#AT THE SAME TIME TOO.... HELP.... COORDINATED SNIPER ATTACK

[unionizedwizard]

help.......

[hanazou]

So um .. I just recently found your blog and even though you haven't written that much but you really have a unique writing style and I'm in love 🥺💞 .

So may I please request fyodor and/or sigma headcanons or scenario (whatever you're feeling comfortable with ) being on a date with their s/o and getting lost somewhere trying to find their way back home ? I mean it's just so adorable and been on my mind for a while.

And thank you 💚

𝐨𝐧 𝐚 𝐝𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐟𝐲𝐨𝐝𝐨𝐫 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐬𝐢𝐠𝐦𝐚 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐠𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐭.

— how did you end up here? getting lost wasn't on the agenda.

Book : Fyodor | Sigma

Genre : Fluff with romance or implied romance

Category: Scenario

Word count : 0.8K | 1K

Bookshelves : Leatherbound

Note : I love this request! Thank you so, SO much for requesting Fyodor and Sigma! Truthfully these are far from being my best works, but I hope you enjoy this, love! It took me a while since I had to make sure these are in-character :") Thank you for the patience!

I hope you enjoy these! 💛

“This is quite the view,” Fyodor smiles to himself, fingers treading around his chin like creeping vines. “Yokohama has a sophistication to it after all.”

“Fyodor,” His name from your mouth rolls out slower compared to the cars on the road near you both to give the impression that your patience is unscathed. “We’re lost.”

Yokohama isn’t too huge of a prefecture for you and Fyodor to get lost in while exploring for the sake of the upcoming Cannibalism scheme, but since you both insist to check out even the smallest of details because one can never be too perfect, exploring took the whole day. Outlining the landmarks on a map would have sufficed, but you and Fyodor agreed that travelling in first-person is more helpful in discovering things that can trick the enemies, and that agreement led you travelling together.

It wasn’t hard for someone to get drunk in this cozy atmosphere and forget why they were here, especially if they’re with someone they trust and are fond of. For you, that person happens to be this pale and sickly genius.

The foreign building structures, the bustling unfamiliar crowd, the compact scent from street food vendors you've never tasted, and the crunch of dry leaves under your feet, they are all different from home, but the striking allure and exoticness are undeniable. Hence, you and Fyodor lost track of time and direction. Not to mention his needy eye for aesthetic slows down the pace.

You don’t want to say this aloud, but this atmosphere and mood, doesn’t it feel like going on a date?

Never mind that—you both were having too much fun brainstorming for ideas, too many alleys to check out, too many manholes to note, too many dead ends to utilize for you to recognize both of you have strayed off the planned route. On the bright side is, Fyodor found the ideal, secluded, dead-end alley for him to station his sniper to attack a certain detective, but the bad side is, while chatting with him about how and where to allocate your pawns, you and Fyodor didn’t pay attention to where you’re going.

Where in Yokohama are you now?

Neither of you planned to walk this far around the prefecture, so you can’t pinpoint your position on the map inside your pocket.

“I have great confidence in my memory,” Fyodor gazes around. “I can find our way back.”

“Then why are we still here after—” you look at your watch. “—half an hour?”

“I thought that while having the opportunity, we should take our time to know this area better. There’s artistry in any form of structure even in those we will decimate soon.” He pivots his head to you. “Wouldn’t you agree?”

He sounds like he’s beating around the bush. He won’t admit he got both of you lost.

You hum. “You still don’t know where we are,” You bring the focus back to your point. “Let me take my turn navigating our way back home,” You reach for the minimap in your pocket. “You’ve had your share of getting us lost.”

You wonder how in the world a prodigy like Fyodor affords to get lost. You consider the possibility of him being distracted by this little trip (that feels like a date) itself since you caught yourself doing that, but you shake off that thought. You ought to stop being delusional.

“As you wish,” He smiles at your proposal. “But only because you insist.”

You make wild guesses of your current position by observing the buildings and shops, try to figure out where you are on the map, and take the lead in guiding yourself and Fyodor back. He follows your headship without any protests, taking the same turn as you elegantly. 

You catch Fyodor also observing the map with you while he matches his legs in coordination with yours. His eyes turn to you and his raised dark brows ask you why you’re staring at him.

“Is it because you’re not confident I can take us back that you’re watching the map with such focus?” You bait, half smiling.

You want him to admit that he trusts you. It’s a pleasant feeling, hearing someone like him value your judgement.

He made a soft chortle from his chest. “Impossible, my dear,”  Fyodor says.

He stops in his tracks.

The sudden halt makes you pause too, and you lower the map to look at his whole face.

You jolt when he takes your hand with his icy pale fingers, guiding your palm to rest on his chest. His coolness mixing with your warmth creates a perfect state of equilibrium that mirrors both your difference yet similarity with him.

“I simply enjoy our mundane little detour.” His voice's vibration from his chest rumbles your hand. His smile is like cotton, but the sharp violet in his eyes holds power over you. “Allow my heartbeat to be the witness of honesty in my words.”

His heartbeat thumps in an orderly calming pattern, his chilly skin still sheathing your hand to press it against his chest.

Ah.

So maybe getting lost isn’t so bad after all.

Your eyebrows quirk when you notice the same scenery outside the car window, forehead matted against the cold glass. “Are you sure this is the right way?”

Sigma’s lips tense down, still staring at the road ahead. “Uhm, yes?” His eyes dart at you for one second.

The two of you, Sigma and yourself, are on your way to visit the last potential location for Sky Casino to expand its branch down below. He demonstrated more than enough faith in your judgement when he invited you to travel to the cities under the sky, offering you a ride in his lavish car. If it were with another person, you wouldn’t see too much into this situation. But with Sigma, it’s a whole different story.

It was the having a luncheon together in a prestigious restaurant of a five star resort with him ordering the best dish for you with a warm smile when he described your order to the waiter. Another being his gentlemanly mannerism, he made a shallow bow when allowing you into his car and opened the door for you, also holding your hand as you got in. The hospitality and elegance from his demeanour excites your heartbeat.

In Sky Casino, he may be your employer and you his employee, but with just the two of you, he makes you feel like the most treasured royalty.

Sigma clears his throat, his fist in front of his mouth while the other around the steering wheel. “I’m certain I’ve memorized every route for the casino’s potential branches.” He glances at the note on the dashboard where the addresses are.

You raise your eyebrows seeing a tower ahead. “And I’m certain we’ve passed that tower in front of us at least twice.”

The expression Sigma makes is made of mild surprise, frustration, and gloom.

"Let's face it," You slouch down your seat. "We're lost."

Sigma repeatedly looks from the scribbled map on the dashboard to the road back and forth, fingers squeezing the wheel in uneasiness. “I could’ve sworn we took the right turn this time…”

Your shoulders deflate at the expression Sigma makes. You feel bad for putting it bluntly. “How about I drive while asking for directions from the locals? You must be tired since we’ve been travelling for hours.”

His head turns swiftly at you, long dual-coloured hair whishing. “You know where we are?” He asks before quickly turning his sight back to the road, stealing glances.

“Not exactly, but I’m familiar with the local dialect and I can ask for directions easily.”

The hesitation and disappointment are still evident on Sigma’s face. You purse your lips, hesitant in how to phrase your next words. “Employers employ people to be assisted with the workload and to have someone to share concerns with. I’m not here just for you to treat me like royalty, I’m also here to assist you.”

Sigma huffs a smile, taking chances to look at your face now and then. “Do you mind the treatment for a royalty?”

“No.” You deny a little too fast. You clear your throat, ignoring the heat in your cheeks. “Absolutely not,” You speak slower. “But even royalties have to give back, right?”

He fails to hide his laughter. He sounds so free, unrestrained, and possibly the most relaxed that day, making your cheeks swell with a prideful smile. As long as he gets to laugh, you don't mind sounding silly. “By asking for directions while talking using a local dialect?” He asks.

Sigma lightly giggles. “Alright, you win.” He slows down the car, eyeing the rear mirror to make a quick stop at the side of the road. “I’m afraid to crash us from feeling exhausted anyways.”

He makes a parallel park and the car comes to a full stop, engine still smoothly running and vibrating the interior.

You ruffle his silky dual-coloured hair as smooth as the leather seat. “Don’t be too hard on yourself,” You say, tinting his cheeks pink. “Allow me to treat you like royalty from now on.”

When you retract your hand, Sigma’s head automatically follows with the yearning to get more touch.

Your eyes enlarge and so does his. He whirls away, hands hiding his face. Loud and uncontrolled laughter erupts from your belly despite you covering your mouth to tone it down. You want to stop—but your chest keeps heaving out the joy, raising your shoulders to your ears.

Sigma shrinks in embarrassment, his long hair curtaining his face as he buries his head to his knees. He looks like a tulip in that driver’s seat. With his fair pale skin, even from your distance you can see the red on his face. “Please don’t tell anyone about it…” His voice can be barely distinguished from your untamed laugh.

“The secret’s safe with me.” You wipe a tear as your laughter slows down. You exhale a wide smile, unbuckling your seatbelt. “Alright, let’s switch now before the sun sets.”

“Wait!” Sigma springs out from his position and hurries his hand to land on yours before you open your door. You tilt your head, and he responds with “Don’t open the door yet.”

He dashes out and jogs to get to your side of the car. He opens your door and stands on the side with a shallow bow, his empty hand offered to you. You stifle a giggle when you accept his hand that gently helps you up until you fully stand outside.

You grin for the umpteenth time at Sigma’s chivalry that reminds you of the demonstration of romance during the regency era. It’s simple things like this that boosts your confidence and comfort around him. You can definitely get used to this.

That is until Sigma’s bow deepens so his lips kiss your hand.

You tense. You expected a normal escort when stepping out. The unforeseen princely kiss and his smile send you on haywire—why are you even there? Why did you go all this way into an unfamiliar city? Just to get kissed? To have him act like your Prince? Why is he even kissing you?

“Even without disembarking a journey I still get lost in your touch and laughter.” He straightens his body, elevating your hand to stay on his lips and chin. You feel his breath on your skin. “Thank you for giving me the honour of getting lost with you.”

Then you remember.

You're there to be with him.

📜 ; like what you read? visit my bookshop!

[thebadbatch]

Hii, I have a request.

Could you, pretty please write reader being to the Bad Batch, during the Bad Batch what Omega is to them (I still don’t know how to define that ksksks), but when order 66 happens and they take Omega she is super jealous and such (and could you please also do your writer magick to include Crosshair with them)? Thank you so so much, you’re a very sweet person

A/N: I really hope that this is okay! If there's anything you want changed or added then DM me! :3 Enjoy!

The Bad Batch x Fem!Reader

Plot: You are apart of Clone Force 99 but had been captured by the Empire and seperated from your brothers who had no idea you existed. Upon escape they find you and it's your goal to get your little sister back too.

Warnings: None, just a little intense with the Empire and a little violence.

---------------

Ad'ika

Rapidly running through the halls you finally shut yourself into a room, panting heavily within an attempt to capture your breath. You were currently stuck on an imperial ship, the plan you had been trying to muster up for months was finally in place but storm troopers were hot on your tail. You were a clone, a young one a part of some experimental unit but you were said to be the first female one. The empire had gotten you when order 66 commenced and nobody cared, everybody watched as they took you to experiment on and nobody was there to help or assist you. Sighing softly you turned toward the hallway you were supposed to go down beginning to pull yourself towards it. 

"Escape pods…" You whispered to nobody in particular, beginning to pull it open and activate it. 

"Halt! Step away from the escape pod, kid." The storm troopers voice muffled out, a blaster pointed in your direction. Staring at him you just ran into the pod, slamming the door shut behind you which thankfully prevented any blaster shots hitting you. What button were you supposed to press? They all looked different and you couldn't mess up, not now at least. You could already hear the footsteps of the reinforcements coming toward your location, so within a final attempt you pressed one of the buttons which thankfully freed you into the space before you - guiding you throughout nowhere. You were free, but at what cost? Nobody was there, no planets were nearby and you were lost in the middle of space. A small child alone, nowhere - this was it. At least you weren't in imperial hands anymore and you were free on your own terms. Gazing around at the newly found controls, you clicked a square button that blinked rapidly. A communications device? You've seen these briefly before, perhaps some other people would find you? 

"Hello?" You spoke softly, voice echoing in the small escape pod as the cold began to finally get to you. "I'm y/n, I'm a part of experimental unit 99 and I'm lost. Please help." You whispered out, praying to the stars somebody could hear you and could save you. If the empire arrived before somebody else could then that would be it. Back to square one. But there was definitely a spark of hope, one in which you were going to dream of as your eyes shut allowing you to fall into a much needed cold slumber. Perhaps when you woke up things would be better? 

"Hello?" The ship's communication device lit up before 5 men who rushed into the cockpit, Tech accepting the signal and listening. "I'm y/n, I'm part of experimental unit 99 and I'm lost. Please help." The men turned to one another questioning the words that were spoken by an unknown user. 

"Experimental unit 99?" Hunter repeated, keeping his eyes trained on Tech who looked equally as confused as his brother. 

"That's our unit!" Wrecker interjected, confused but still rather excited at the message they had received. 

"Don't be stupid, Wrecker." Crosshair grumbled, moving over toward his brothers - a toothpick lingering between his lips. "Are we supposed to actually believe they're a part of our unit?" Echo nodded lightly, gazing at them all as Tech took a soft breath in allowing the confusion to lift. 

"Well, it's still highly possible they could have created others before us and lingered us all a part of the same batch." Hunter sat in the Co pilot's chair, beginning to press certain things on the control panel. "But it could still be a trap, we can't be certain they made others before us-" Hunter's voice soon pushed Techs aside, abruptly stopping him mid sentence. 

"We'll take our chances." The other three brothers strapped themselves into the spare chairs, watching as Hunter set some orders. "Tech, get the coordinates that the signal sent out." He simply nodded, typing in a few things before locking onto the signal. 

"They seem to be situated in the middle of nowhere, but the closest planet seems to be Jakku. I suggest we hurry if we're going to get ourselves into some mess." The others nodded as hyperspace soon commenced, blurring stars filling the window as they travelled toward the lonely signal silently hoping there was another one of them - perhaps even another brother. 

Once the ship pulled out of hyperspace, their eyes fell upon a lonely escape pod floating with no destination and a single person inside. They couldn't make out the person using the escape pod due to the distance. Tech soon moved the attack shuttle closer to allow the escape pod to lock onto their beloved ship. 

"I'm locking on the escape pod, the user seems unconscious." Hunter simply nodded and stood, walking toward the airlock and awaiting the escape pod to lock on. 

"I'll retrieve the person. After this we need to get out of here just in case, prepare hyperspace for Ord Mantell." The others simply nodded as the doors to the escape pod opened, Hunter disappearing momentarily. As he walked in, he noticed a young girl curled up in the seat, hiding her face for any sort of warmth she could muster. He crouched down, gently placing his hand against her shoulder in an attempt to wake her up - she didn't. Hesitantly he picked her up and rushed out of the pod to his brothers, 

"She won't wake up!" He seemed rather panicked as Tech disengaged the escape pod and activated hyperspace before he stood. Once Hunter placed her against the Med table, Tech ran a med scan over her as the others came to see what was going on. 

"She's cold and beyond exhausted, her health is otherwise fine. I suggest she borrow somebody's bunk until she wakes." Echo was the first to step forward, 

"She can borrow mine for now, is she really a part of the experimental unit?" Tech sighed softly as Hunter lifted her back up, carrying her to the bunks. 

"It's possible, we can't know more until she wakes up." Wrecker had followed Hunter as he placed her into bed, ensuring the blankets were wrapped around her and placing Lula into her arms. 

You awoke slowly, blinking rapidly as you took in your surroundings. You felt warm but why? Moving slowly, you felt the blankets soft texture against your hands finally being able to open your eyes fully enough to realize where you were. Was this another imperial ship? Did the empire find you first? Surely it couldn't be them, they had never let you sleep in a bed before. Turning to your side you saw a soft looking plush coloured in black and red, your childlike curiosity took over as you held it in your hands squishing it gently. Who saved you? What was this place? 

"You're up then?" A voice spoke, a large gun against his back - it seemed to be a sniper rifle. You gasped and stood up quickly, preparing to run. "Woah woah there kid, I'm not going to hurt you." He took in a breath as he examined your shocked face, "We saved you from that escape pod." Nodding slowly you backed up instead, realising there wouldn't be anywhere to go. 

"We?" You asked before a different man arrived with a bandanna around his head, nodding softly toward his brother who left the room. 

"Hey kid, you're up. I'm Hunter, we just rescued you from that pod." You sat back against the bed, gazing around the room for whatever you could use as a weapon. "I need to ask, are you actually a part of clone batch 99?" You just nodded slightly at his words, fiddling with your hands in thought. Was this just another group of people who were going to experiment on you? 

"Yes. I'm sick of the experiments - please just leave me alone, I'm sure you can find credits elsewhere." Your hands automatically clung to the plush which made Hunter smile and slowly sit beside you which made you flinch. 

"I'm a part of the same batch, so is everybody else aboard this ship." It took a moment or two to process his words. Your brothers had found you? These were your brothers and they had come back for you? Rescued you? 

"You're my big brother?" You breathed out slowly, eyes meeting his own. He nodded slowly at your words, gently smiling to give you some comfort. 

"All of us are." He slowly stood and offered you his hand, "Would you like to meet them?" Hesitantly you took his hand all whilst clinging to the plush, everything felt scary but you had finally found your brothers, so maybe everything would be alright again. Upon walking into the cockpit, you saw your other four brothers turn toward you, smiles on some of their faces. 

"Hey kid, I'm Echo." He spoke, crouching before you. "These are the others, Wrecker, Crosshair and Tech - you've met Hunter already." You nodded gently and gazed lightly at them all. Wrecker soon stood forward, a big smile against his face.

"You enjoyin' Lulas company?" He asked, gesturing toward the plush held tightly in your arms. "She's always helped me when I start feelin' scared so I thought she'd help you too!" You couldn't help but smile softly at his kind gesture, softly passing her back over to him.

"Thanks for letting me borrow her... She helped." Yeah soon interrupted the conversation, a datapad held tightly in his hands.

"Y/n, I believe that you said you were a part of our clone unit. Is this true?" You simply nodded, recalling the time you had spent on Kamino. It wasn't particularly good or bad, but it was your home nonetheless.

"Yes, I was there when you were all created along with another." Tech paused, typing rapidly into the datapad.

"Another?" Crosshair asked, eyes wide." I thought it was just us five?" Shaking your head you rubbed your hands together, it was a nervous habit of yours.

"Her name is Omega. I was created first then she was, then we watched them create all of you but you all got accelerated healing." Hunter moved forward toward Tech,

"Omega? She's our sister?" He turned toward everybody, "We left her on Kamino!" Echo stood and placed a hand against his shoulder,

"It's safe for her there, we had no choice." He sighed in response to Echos words,

"What about y/n? It's not safe for her here either." You crossed your arms softly and stared at them,

"I'm a clone too you know, I was created with war in mind."

When you had told them that you had been created with war in mind, they decided to make you a permanent part of their team. It had been a year since they saved you from the escape pod and from the Empire. You were now pretty much a fully trained soldier with incredible blasting skills, senses and some skills behind technology. There were many new memories with your brothers and you had all created an unbreakable bond. However, lately things were difficult due to Order 66 being implemented across the galaxy and you only had one goal and that was to rescue your sister Omega from Kamino. You were currently on course for the planet, prepared to try and get away with this rescue mission as quickly as possible.

"How far off are we from landing?" You asked, preparing your blaster and adjusting the custom made armour they had prepared for you. Turning toward Tech who was currently piloting the ship you felt the attack shuttle judder. 

"Any moment now." Hunter moved everybody toward the door, glancing between each sibling.

"Set your blasters to stun, we aren't looking to kill any of our brothers." He grabbed onto the side and placed a hand upon your shoulder as the ship took a rather rough landing. "Y/n, are you certain you know where Omega will be?" Nodding you watched as Tech joined you all, switching his blaster to stun.

"I am, we were always there together - She never left." The ramp opened up which allowed you all to rush down, stunning any and every clone that had their blasters pointed toward you.

"Go and get Omega! We'll keep you covered." Rushing frantically down the hall with Wrecker and Tech following for cover, you reached the lab that you were certain she'd be in. Due to the facility on lockdown, Tech had overridden the systems and managed to get the door open much to your relief.

"Omega?" You called out, gazing around until your eyes fell on her placed upon the medtable. "Come on, we're getting you out of here - I found our brothers!" She recognised you as soon as you removed your helmet, rushing into your arms and allowing you to pick her up. You were young, but old enough to take care of your little sister and shoot a blaster. They had given you certain aspects of accelerated aging but not enough to bring you to your brother's ages.

"Y/n, I wanna go. The clones have chips and-" You hushed her lightly, placing your helmet over her for at least some protection until you reached the Marauder. 

" I know, order 66." She hid against you which allowed you to rush away with your brothers, running into the ship and allowing Tech to fly you all away. A quick in and out with everything going how it needed to go. Omega removed her helmet, passing it back with a mumbled thanks.

"Omega, hey kid." Hunter spoke, crouching down and hugging her. She stayed silent against him though which definitely wasn't the welcome back he hoped he'd get. "What's wrong?" He asked, voice gentle in tone.

"You all left me but took y/n - I was terrified and you had all left me." Her eyes soon filled with tears, voice gentle with hints of anger. Crouching down beside her you pulled her into a gentle hug.

"I never stopped trying to get to you, the Empire took me and our brothers found me after I escaped." You paused for a moment as she clung onto you. "We couldn't come and get you until it was safe to do so, now order 66 has happened, it's safer for you to stay with us." Hunter smiled warmly as she pulled away, smiling lightly. "You never stopped being my Ad'ika." The others soon walked in, greeting Omega with a long awaited hug. In all honesty you couldn't wait to create new memories with your family now you were all together, memories of your own.

[good-rwbyaus]

What about an AU where everyone had somehow been under the mistaken assumption that Ruby was a professor at Beacon? For a laugh, Ozpin rolls with it whenever he's asked about it.

Becoming :: mod lilac :: Part 1 out of 2. 

What about an AU where everyone had somehow been under the mistaken assumption that Ruby was a professor at Beacon? For a laugh, Ozpin rolls with it whenever he's asked about it. 

Test

“You cannot be serious, Headmaster!” Goodwitch burst into the room just as Headmaster Ozpin made his offer of early entry into Beacon. Ruby couldn’t help but grimace at the Huntress’s words - they hurt, especially since they came from someone she admired so. 

“Oh? But weren’t you singing praises about young Miss Rose earlier?” Ozpin spoke with a hint of joviality. “What was it? Amazing potential, excellent coordination, sharp eyes, animalistic instinc-”

Wait wha-

“All of what I spoke is what she could become in the future,” Goodwitch objected, “She’s still too young. Hasn’t even completed her training back at Signal. If you bring her to Beacon, she’ll just be building on an unstable foundation - who knows when she’ll topple over?”

“There’s too much she’s lacking in, “ the Huntress continued, “She hasn’t developed the muscle mass to fully control her weapon. And her situational awareness is poor, especially when she tunnel visions like what she did tonight.” 

Ozpin nodded his head at Goodwitch’s assessment. The gesture made her feel like a rock settled into her stomach, and the man’s following words didn’t help.

“Excellent points,” Ozpin agreed before he turned his head to her, “What do you have to say Miss Rose?”

Her eyes were like a deer in headlights, open and wide. She couldn’t lose this chance. She wanted to fight against the Grimm. And a day sooner she got into Beacon was a day sooner she’ll become a Huntress. She could stay at Signal, but... 

“I know Professor Goodwitch is right,” Ruby agreed hesitantly, “I’m lacking in a lot, probably so much that I don’t even know what I’m lacking. But Signal... Signal won’t help me.” She closed her eyes and sighed, “I’m tired of watching from the sides because the teachers are afraid I’ll break my fellow students’ confidence.” She trembled before gritting her teeth, “I’m tired of being left alone because the teachers think I’m already in a good place and there’s so many others that need help. They just tell me that everything will come with time and to practice on my own.”

“There’s only so much I can do learning through books and training by myself,” Ruby quietly said, “And my dad and uncle are busy with Hunter business and teaching. I can’t take too much of their time just because I want training.”

She shifted her feet uneasily before repeating, “I know I’m lacking, but Signal will not help me find those things. So please let me into Beacon.”

“All I ever wanted was to fight the Grimm. I want to become a Huntress. I never wanted anything else,” she bowed her head quietly, not able to meet either of them in the eyes, “Please give me a chance.”

The silence in the air was palpable, almost as if it could be sliced. It lingered, and she could feel Professor Goodwitch’s gaze pierce through her. Seconds felt like minutes as time dragged on, and before she could speak to get rid of the unnerving quiet, Goodwitch spoke first. 

“Beacon Academy’s Initiation will start in two months,” Goodwitch sternly stated, rapping the table with her riding crop. The woman looked straight into her eyes. “You will inform your family and then report to Beacon Academy tomorrow. Be forewarned that if you do not have what it takes, I do not want to hear anything more about early entry. Understand?”

Ruby lifted her head, eyes shimmering in excited tears. Professor Ozpin looked both amused and perturbed as he looked over at Professor Goodwitch and then herself. Professor Goodwitch looked every bit the strict disciplinarian waiting for her answer.

“Yes, I’ll do it! I won’t let you down. Thank you Professor Goodwitch. Headmaster Ozpin!”

----

Training

Metal barrels and chunks of asphalt flew swiftly through the fields, trying to tag its red-clad target. Meanwhile, bullets shot through the air trying to pierce into her Psychokinetic assailer. 

A sniper bullet managed to avoid her barrier of floating debris, forcing Glynda to step back to dodge it, the air in its wake stinging her eyes. Clearly, Miss Rose was getting used to this level of attack - the local masonry was no longer adequate. It seems that after three weeks of training this girl in the guise of testing she’ll yet again need to bring another element into play. 

The Disciplinarian - her weapon - swung towards the ground, her Aura channeled deep within the earth. 

“Ah!” 

The red-cloaked girl stumbled half-way from the miniature earthquake that was created. Large chunks of dirt and rock, larger than Miss Rose herself, floated into the air courtesy of her Psychokinesis before rushing to crush the girl in their midst. 

And just as she expected, Miss Rose performed marvelously. 

The girl quickly found her footing and bounced amidst the floating debris. A slice subtly cut through one of the boulders, so fine that she failed to see it at first - followed by a bullet from her blind spot. Glynda had already moved to duck under that follow-up bullet, and she couldn’t help but mentally complement Miss Rose's tactics, which were only inadequate due to not knowing the depths of her opponent. Had she been a student at Beacon instead, that would’ve been a fight-ending blow. 

Miss Rose would’ve been wasted at Signal. This girl was not meant to be a greenhouse flower, safely nurtured until she was ready to be brought out in the world. She was a wild rose, meant to grow in hardship and become all the more beautiful for it. Her presence in Signal - the other teachers must’ve sensed it somehow - was detrimental to the class; to them, she was like a weed that had to be kept in check lest it strangle the rest of the greenhouse. 

She knew this because she was the same way when she came into her Semblance - Psychokinesis - and became all too aware of the differences in capabilities between Hunters. 

Two more years at Signal would’ve ruined this girl. They would’ve dulled the girl’s sharp instincts like when she and Miss Rose first met. 

...Truthfully Beacon might not be the right fit for her either. 

“Argh, shit Glynda. Is beating on me really that fun?” the girl yelled accusingly as she bounced off against a floating rock. 

Oh whoops she was smiling. Glynda shifted her expression to something more neutral, but she couldn’t help but internally grin.

Their relationship had gotten a lot more casual a week in. Politeness tends to go out the window when exploding barrels were involved. 

“I’m only happy that I’ll be sending an inadequate student back to the institution she needs to go back too,” Glynda replied in a deadpan, flinging a volatile-marked barrel into the battlefield. 

“Oh fuck y-”

Boom.

---

Hunt

“What do you think, Peter, Bart?” Glynda said almost proudly as if introducing a prized student to an audience. Peter gazed upon the red-cloaked girl amidst the pack of Beowolves, many of which were turning to smoky wisps from her scythe blade. Even at this distance, she could see the girl’s every move, every strike an efficient take-down. 

“I’m feeling sorry for those Beowolves. Did you teach her how to be so...?” Port said quizzically as he saw the girl flip onto the back of a Beowolf, scythe at its neck - a single click later, and the Beowulf’s head was sailing over her.

“So?” Glynda questioned.

“So vicious. She’s really not scared about close combat” Peter commented, “Bit unusual, given her weapon’s part sniper rifle.” He observed as the girl rolled underneath a Grimm’s legs, only to swing the scythe from underneath. Urk. He squeezed his legs together at the phantom pain brought from that strike - Bartholomew did the same. 

“It wasn’t me. She came like that,” Glynda shrugged her shoulders, snorting briefly at the males’ sympathetic reactions, “Honestly, I didn’t expect this when I let her loose.” 

“...She was born to Hunt,” Bartholomew commented as he sipped from his thermos, “Probably more than me and either of you. Look at her face. She’s smiling. 

“...She’s smiling,” Glynda said quietly.

All three pensively watched as their soon-to-be-charge gleefully tore through the Grimm with a grin on her face, scythe reaping through them like they were wheat on the fields. 

----

Meeting

“How do you feel?” Headmaster Ozpin asked with a smile, “I heard you had an exciting two months.” Ruby and the Headmaster were standing together at the landing hall, observing the other students arrive for orientation. 

“Like coming out of a dream,” Ruby sighed happily as she hugged Crescent Rose’s folded form. “It was everything I wanted and more.” 

“I wouldn’t have thought you would look fondly on what other students call Professor Goodwitch’s Ego-Crushing Disciplinary Course,” he chuckled, “Of course, those students have far less friendly names for it.”

He couldn’t help but feel perturbed though when Ruby stared at him in confusion.

“Why wouldn’t I like it? She pushed me to my limits and more,” Ruby stretched, “Same with the other professors.” Her gaze shifted away from him, a little hesitant and guilty, "But I’m having a feeling that Beacon regularly isn’t that exciting.”

“No, it isn’t,” the Headmaster said, “But you’ll be provided opportunities to go into the field as needed, though you’ll still be required to join a team and interact with them.”

“Those never did go well back when I was at Signal,” she grumpily said.

“You’re speaking as if that were ages ago. You’ve only been in Beacon for two months,” Ozpin chuckled. 

“It felt so much shorter. Guess time flies when you’re having fun,” Ruby laughed before rubbing her hand against a silver badge on her chest.   

“Hmm, what’s that?”

“Bar- I mean, Doctor Oobleck and Professor Port were joking about how I deserved a reward for surviving Professor Goodwitch,” Ruby laughed, “So they gave me a badge that's been defunct for a while, back from when Vale determined the seniority of a Hunter based on Grimm kills. Apparently this is the highest accolade.”

“Oh, should I be worried then about my position, Professor Rose?” Ozpin quirked an amused eyebrow. 

“Maybe~ I don’t know. I’d rather be out in the field. Never did like the classroom, “ Ruby grumbled, “Even more so now...Hopefully, being with the other students won’t be too bad.”

”Looking down on your peers already, Professor Rose?”

”Stop calling me that, Headmaster,” Ruby hopped up and down angrily, “People might get the wrong idea. And it’s not that I’m looking down on them. I’m just not used to competent teammates. Don’t worry though. Professor Goodwitch stressed to me the importance of a team. No good Hunter hunts alone.”

”Wise words. Perhaps you should hold some classes.”

”Stop joking around.”

“Who said I was joking?”

Little did the fuming Ruby know that there were some people that caught bits and parts of their conversation and that they were prepared to take those words very seriously.

------

Rumors

“Holy shit. Did you see that video of that girl decapitating that Nevermore?” 

“Yup. Can’t decide whether the Deathstalker kill by Team JNPR or the Nevermore kill from Team RWBY was better.”

“Probably team JNPR’s kill, since they’re actually a bunch of students. I heard team RWBY’s leader is already a professor here.”

“You’re fucking with me.”

“No joke. They say she just can’t get full professorship because of her age. Apparently she’s a combat prodigy from Signal, and she came to Beacon two years early to fast-track into a professorship. I mean, do you think the team being named after her is a coincidence?” 

“Hey, guys! You’re talking about Professor Rose, right?”

“Yeah.”

“So I personally heard the Headmaster call her Professor Rose before. A lot of people have during orientation actually. It’s just that it’s all supposed to be on the down-low. She’s on first-name basis with all the professors. Heard her call Professor Goodwitch by her first name when they’re in private.”

“She has balls. If I called Professor Goodwitch by her first name, I’d probably end up missing both of mine.”

“I didn’t need that imagery thanks. But if you want any proof, take a look at her badge. That’s an official Vale Hunter’s badge if you search online for it. Bit old and dated, but it exists.”

“Guess I shouldn’t ask to copy her homework then. Can I copy yours?”

“No. Go do your own.”

“Dang it.”

[lightsinthedistancee]

City Midnights, Chapter 2: Poe Dameron x Reader

Pairing: Poe Dameron x Reader 

Word Count: 2.3k

Summary: “There is always something missing in his headspace. Something vaguely shaped like you.”

Poe reflects on past times with Reader while he hopes for their survival.

Warnings: Violence

Read the first chapter here.

A/N: This work is 3 chapters long, and this is the last one in this sort of “group-of-one-shots” format. The last chapter will be super short and sweet. Hope you enjoy!

If you wish to be tagged on future works, just drop a reply/comment.

He cannot sleep. Worry and distress are consuming him, wrenching his insides around, tampering with the portions of his brain that allow him to relax. When he’d heard you’d been taken, he had returned to his quarters, laid on the bed, and unashamedly sobbed. The captured often never returned.

He wakes during the night. Sometimes because he believes that he can hear you. Sometimes because he is missing the familiar weight of you on his chest. Sometimes because he has nightmares, and there are only empty sheets beside him.

It’s a month after your disappearance that he finally gains the courage to enter your quarters. It screams familiarity, and that is the worst part. Your shoes are still casually strewn by the door. The bed is still messed up from when the two of you had woken up, made love, and then gotten ready two weeks past. It feels like a lifetime ago to him.

Your pillow still smells like you. Something subtly sweet and distinctly citrusy.

He ensures that he is the only one to suffer from his grief. Poe Dameron is not one to fail to get the job done. But he goes about the day with a numbness to his actions. In some ways, it’s a good thing. He is hyper-efficient, immune to distractions, for that is what numbness does to him.

But there’s always something missing in his headspace. Something vaguely shaped like you.

He lies in his bed that night, staring at the ceiling, eyes tracing the bright stripes that the light from the moon reflects onto the surface. He replays memories in his head. Good and bad. Hopeful and hopeless. Tragic and beautiful.

He watches you. You’re on your stomach, in the grass, your hands wrapped around a sniper rifle. You mutter numbers under your breath, running them in your head with an extraordinary speed, something he knows he’ll never be able to do.

You handle the rifle with a delicacy, like it’s a work of art that you love dearly. You treat it as such, and he knows that he cannot possibly count the number of times he has seen you polishing it, oiling the trigger.

You’d always loved your job. Why you did, exactly, was revealed to him one night years ago, in the early hours, whispered beneath covers that felt like they could protect the two of you from anything.

You were on the side of the Light. You’d grown up on the side of the Light. And the Light did not believe in death. Death was cruel, unnecessary in many situations. It had the potential to be the ultimate act of barbarism. And the both of you had been raised on that idea like it was religion.

And that night, you’d shamefully admitted that you loved your weapon for the cleanliness in which it got the job done. One shot, and it was over. One shot with the capacity to end someone’s world, someone’s life, someone’s love.

That memory is what he recalls as he listens to you take deep breaths, your figure relaxing. By now, he’s seen you work enough to know that that means you’re about to take the shot. He watched the target through binoculars.

Bang.

A yell. A thud. A burst of red like a blossoming rose.

It is done. Just like that. He grins immediately. “That’s my girl,” he says, too soft for you to hear.

You remove your focus from the scope and meet him with a smile. You stand, slinging the rifle over your shoulder. “Let’s go.”

Another shot in the distance sounds off, and his head is instantly on a swivel, looking for a perpetrator. “What the hell?”

He looks to you, and his eyes widen.

You’re on the ground.

You’re bleeding.

You’re gasping.

That had been a blaster bolt with your name on it.

He’s in shock for a moment. He just stares. But then, he’s at your side, pulling you into his arms, muttering profanities under his breath in distress. He activates the comm in his ear. “I need a medical team to….” He rattles off coordinates, and all he can do is wait.

His world is freezing, leaving just you and him and your agonizing pain that he can seemingly feel too. Your distress sizzles through the air, clutching at his heart, clawing at it, begging for him to help. And he can do nothing. Nothing to aid you clinging to life in his lap.

Your breathing is ragged, your eyes are blank. The only sign that you are still alive is the painful sound coming from your lips. “Stay with me, baby,” he begs, pleading to any higher power that may exist. “Stay with me.”

In short, once everything had run its course, you’d been fine. Fine after hours of surgery and a nasty scar, that is. He supposed that he should’ve been grateful that your attacker had not possessed the same precision that you had. If they had, it would’ve been a shot clean through your skull, and it would’ve truly been over.

But regardless, that did nothing to stop the feeling he’d felt from returning to him every night. He still feels it: in his dreams, in his fears. He feels it right now. It’s not as strong. It’s dull, like something that doesn’t cause him blatant pain, but won’t allow him to relax either.

And as he lies on his bed, unable to sleep, all he wants is you. You by his side, you in his arms, your presence gracing his. You are always there: after particularly long days, after lost battles, after deaths, after hard missions….

He paces down the halls of base, his hair disheveled, bags under his eyes. One pilot down, two damaged ships, three civilian casualties, and no information whatsoever. All under his command.

He pushes open the door to his quarters. The room emanates a soft, warm glow, alighted by lamps and candles, matching the feeling that you give him. You sit at the desk, working away at some logistics for an upcoming mission.

When you catch sight of him, you jump, for he’d been silent coming in. He watches your happy face fade as you see his state.

He almost feels guilty that he has brought his gloom with him upon his return. But you don’t seem to mind, like always.

You walk up to him, simply wrapping your arms around him, burying your face in the crook of his neck. He presses a kiss to your hair and relishes your warmth, breathing you in.

You pull away, fingers twisted in the fabric of his shirt to pull it over his head. A smattering of bruises lines his ribs, your eyes quickly flicking to his. “Don’t worry about it,” he says softly.

He glances at the clock, alarmed at the fact that it is nearly midnight. Wordlessly, you grasp his hand, leading him through the room, into the refresher.

“What happened?” You ask tentatively as your hands run tenderly along his body, soaping him up.

“Can I tell you tomorrow?”

You nod, moments of silence passing.

“Tell me about your day,” he says quietly. The sight of you washes over him, relaxes him in a way only you can achieve.

You raise an eyebrow. “I didn’t really do much—“

“Please,” he pleads, cutting you off, desperation in his voice. “I just want to hear you speak about something…anything…”

“Okay.” You smile warmly, standing on your toes to press a soft kiss to his lips. “Well I got to sleep in this morning actually, till around 9. I worked on some mission logistics—oh, and I watched Leia chew some colonel out…”

As you speak, he zones out, just letting the sound of you comfort him. It is euphoric compared to the sense of failure he’s endured the past two weeks.

When he goes to wash his hair, you stop him, instead turning him around and running your hands through his curls, washing them thoroughly. It is almost sinful how good your hands feel, tenderly running along his scalp, gently working out any knots. The water around the drain circles slightly gray from fallout ash.

When he goes to return the favor, you refuse. “Go to bed,” you insist, able to tell that he is very tired.

“But…,” he objects. There is some arguing back and forth before you practically push him out of the shower.

“Why are you so difficult?” you question, laughing softly.

He smiles, opening up the curtain slightly so that you can see his smirk. “You wouldn’t want me any other way, sweetheart, and you know it.”

You merely roll your eyes, tugging the curtain closed.

He gets in bed, waiting for you before he falls asleep. You walk out when you’re done and dressed, and he watches as you go about turning off lights and blowing out candles. The softness and tranquility that you exude challenges his sadness and desperation that he is sure is rolling about the room in waves, consuming everything. The two of you are opposites when you need to be, the same when it is beneficial, the perfect complement to the other.

Once you’re settled in, he rolls towards you, resting his head on your shoulder. Your fingers calmingly comb through his hair as he breaths softly, savoring the feeling of your warm skin against his.

He is falling prey to sleep quicker and quicker as the seconds pass. When he hears you speak, your voice is barely a whisper. “Good night, love.”

He’s been with you for years. Loved you for years. He’d met you at nineteen. Spent some time together. Then you’d separated to lead different lives. Him to the New Republic, you following your own path.

A reunion had occurred years down the line, leading to the moment right now, where he lies in bed, fingers twisting in the sheets. The future has been in consideration with the two of you. A plan to tie the knot once the war was over, get a place in the city, adopt a few dogs perhaps.

The idea, once bright, currently seems so far out of reach to him. Like a light in the distance that he is so desperately grasping for, his attempts only pushing it further and further away.

He thinks of all his proclamations of love to you, all of his hopeful thoughts he’d infused in you. All of the promises he’d made to you…

It is well past midnight. The two of you lie on his X-Wing, near the back on the thrust engines. It is as far off the ground as the both of you can get for now. You head is on his chest, his jacket around your shoulders as you look up at the stars. Although you don’t notice, he is looking at you, a fondness spreading a warm feeling throughout his body.

Your eyes seem to reflect the light of the stars as you stare off into the abyss of space. A ship streaks by, and a small chuckle escapes your lips.

He raises an eyebrow in confusion. “What?”

“Nothing,” you tell him, drawing your hands into the sleeves of his jacket to keep warm. “Just a memory.”

He pushes a strand of hair from your face, the corners of his lips twitching. “Wanna tell me?”

You pause a moment, tilting your head thoughtfully as if unsure. “Back home,” you begin, “I’d always find buildings with fire escapes so that I could sit on the roof and watch ships.”

He threads his fingers with yours as your attention shifts to another ship.

“I had one of those compasses you could get from the store—maybe a credit or two—and, based on the direction, I’d just imagine where the ships were going….”

You laugh softly, a small smile on your lips. “There was really no logic to it…it was just fun.

“Sometimes I’d bring a holopad and take virtual ‘walks’ down the streets of some old Naboolian city, or some foreign Deep Core metropolis, or some bustling Corellian bazaar.

“And all of that would just turn into long nights of dreaming about leaving home and traveling the galaxy. I could spend hours doing that, just seeing endless visions of fantasies and my wildest dreams, thoughts of wanderlust and yearning to see and feel…to experience…the entire galaxy.”

He finds himself enamored by the way you speak, the way your eyes seem to cloud over as you relive the past.

“Well you get to travel in this job now, right?” he asks.

You hum in agreement, the smallest frown appearing. “Yes, but not everywhere I’d want to go.”

“Where do you want to go?”

You rattle off city and planet names, sometimes entire systems. He smiles at your childlike excitement as mentions of certain places make your entire face light up. The way you jolt slightly as you enthusiastically remember a crucial place you’d forgotten. The way your hands move as you speak.

The list is long, but Maker knows that the both of you have your entire life ahead.

“We’ll go some day,” he tells you as you finish. “Once the war is over. Once we’ve won.”

You smile. “Yeah?”

He nods. “One day, sweetheart. I promise,” he murmurs. “One day.”

Poe is now not so sure that that one day will ever come.

..::::.. ..::::.. ..::::.. ..::::..

He wakes hours later to a frantic banging on his door. He resists the urge to ignore it. He’d miraculously fallen asleep fairly quickly, and getting out of bed would spoil that.

A warbling sounds at the door, followed by a series of beeps. His droid.

He groans, rubbing his eyes and stumbling out of bed before flinging open the entrance to his quarters.

BB-8 is there, already speaking at a million miles per hour. Poe pleads with the droid to slow down as the pilot’s brain slowly comprehends and translates the binary in his sleepy state.

But when Poe is through with his understanding, his eyes widen at the single sentence.

“They’ve found her.”

..::::.. ..::::.. ..::::.. ..::::..

Taglist: @paper-in-ashes-fanfiction​ @imaginecrushes​ @no-shit-sherl0ck​ @castiel-barnes​ @starryeyedstories​

“City Midnights” Chapter 2 originally posted on AO3 on 12/11/20.

[newstfionline]

Sunday, July 11, 2021

Crushing heat wave in Pacific Northwest and Canada cooked shellfish (Washington Post) Amid the crushing summer heat wave that has slammed the Pacific Northwest and parts of Canada, Alyssa Gehman, a marine ecologist who lives by the sea in Vancouver, B.C., walked down to the shore to go for a swim. As expected, the beach was packed with others looking to beat the heat. She made her way to the edge of the water. It smelled like putrid shellfish—cooking. All around her, beds of mussels had popped open, dead. The heat beating down on the rocks had killed them, and she could see dead tissue between their shells. A dead crab floated in the water, she said. Gehman studies marine community ecology, but this was the first time she had seen anything of this “magnitude of mortality.” An estimated 1 billion small sea creatures—including mussels, clams and snails—died during the heat wave in the Salish Sea, off more than 4,000 miles of linear shore, according to marine biologist Chris Harley.

School boards become battle zones (AP) Local school boards around the country are increasingly becoming cauldrons of anger and political division, boiling with disputes over such issues as COVID-19 mask rules, the treatment of transgender students and how to teach the history of racism and slavery in America. Meetings that were once orderly, even boring, have turned ugly. School board elections that were once uncontested have drawn slates of candidates galvanized by one issue or another. A June school board meeting in Loudoun County, Virginia, that dealt with transgender students and the teaching of “critical race theory” became so unruly that one person was arrested for disorderly conduct and another was cited for trespassing. In Rapid City, South Dakota, and Kalispell, Montana, nonpartisan school board races devolved into political warfare as conservative candidates, angered over requirements to wear masks in schools, sought to seize control. “We’re in a culture war,” said Jeff Holbrook, head of Rapid City’s Pennington County GOP.

Heat, wind spur California fire; evacuation hits Nevada area (AP) A California wildfire that closed nearly 200 square miles of forest forced evacuations across state lines into Nevada on Friday as winds and scorching, dry weather drove flames forward through trees and brush. The Beckwourth Complex—which began as two lightning-caused fires in Plumas National Forest—showed “extreme behavior,” fire information officer Lisa Cox said Friday evening. Hot rising air formed a gigantic, smoky pyrocumulus cloud that reached thousands of feet high and created its own lightning, Cox said. Spot fires caused by embers leapt up to a mile (1.6 kilometers) ahead of the northeastern flank—too far for firefighters to safely battle, Cox said. Winds up to about 20 mph (32 kph) on ridgetops were funneling flames up draws and canyons full of dry fuel, where “it can actually pick up speed,” Cox said.

‘We need help’: Haiti’s interim leader requests US troops (AP) Haiti’s interim government said it asked the U.S. to deploy troops to protect key infrastructure as it tries to stabilize the country and prepare the way for elections in the aftermath of President Jovenel Moïse’s assassination. The stunning request for U.S. military support recalled the tumult following Haiti’s last presidential assassination, in 1915, when an angry mob dragged President Vilbrun Guillaume Sam out of the French Embassy and beat him to death. In response, President Woodrow Wilson sent the Marines into Haiti, justifying the American military occupation—which lasted nearly two decades—as a way to avert anarchy. But the Biden administration has so far given no indication it will provide military assistance. For now, it only plans to send FBI officials to assist with the ongoing investigation into a crime that has plunged Haiti, a country already wracked by gaping poverty and gang violence, into a destabilizing battle for power and constitutional standoff.

Venezuela: Battles rage between police and gangs in Caracas (BBC) Street battles have been raging between security forces and armed gangs in the Venezuelan capital Caracas. No official death toll has been given but local media reports say more than 10 people have been killed since the fighting began on Wednesday. Hundreds of officers have been deployed to seize weapons and search for gang leaders, who have been seeking to expand their territory. One local resident said the recent violence was “like a war”. Images shared on social media showed bullet castings littering the ground in the Cota 905 neighbourhood on Friday. One officer told AFP news agency that authorities were now in control, but said “there may still be a few snipers”. The operation marks the first time in years that authorities have launched a major offensive against the gangs, AFP reports.

Queen Elizabeth II opens her lawn to picnics for the first time (Washington Post) For the first time in her nearly 70-year reign, Queen Elizabeth II is allowing the people to picnic on her lawn. It is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, courtiers say. And the grass? It really is a little greener on the other side. “The boss,” as staff members call the monarch, thinks the people need this bit of fresh air after a wretched year. And so, starting Friday and for the rest of the summer, the paying public may sprawl upon the main lawn behind the high walls of Buckingham Palace.

Biden presses Putin to act on ransomware attacks, hints at retaliation (NYT) President Biden warned President Vladimir V. Putin of Russia on Friday that time was running out for him to rein in the ransomware groups striking the United States, telegraphing that this could be Mr. Putin’s final chance to take action on Russia’s harboring of cybercriminals before the United States moved to dismantle the threat. In Mr. Biden’s starkest warning yet, he conveyed in a phone call to Mr. Putin that the attacks would no longer be treated only as criminal acts, but as national security threats—and thus may provoke a far more severe response, administration officials said. It is a rationale that has echoes of the legal justification used by the United States and other nations when they cross inside another country’s borders to rout terrorist groups or drug cartels. Asked if it might attack the servers Russian cybercriminals have used to hijack American networks—meaning knock them offline—Mr. Biden responded, “Yes,” according to a pool report.

Taliban Enter Kandahar City and Seize Border Posts (NYT) Taliban forces on Friday penetrated Kandahar, Afghanistan’s second-largest city, in a new phase of a sweeping insurgent offensive that has captured territory across the country since May 1, when U.S. forces began withdrawing. The insurgents had been encroaching on Kandahar city, the capital of the province of the same name, for several weeks, capturing surrounding districts, before entering the city for the first time Friday. Taliban fighters entered Kandahar’s Seventh Police District Friday, seizing houses and engaging with security forces in the area, said Bahir Ahmadi, the spokesman for the Kandahar governor. Commandos and other special forces units were battling the insurgents well into the evening. Afghan security forces have struggled to defend themselves against the Taliban, who in the span of just over two months have managed to seize at least 150 of Afghanistan’s roughly 400 districts.

Russia votes to keep crucial Syrian border crossing open to humanitarian aid (CNN) The Biden administration scored a key diplomatic victory Friday after Russia agreed to keep a crucial border crossing open in Syria for another year, allowing the United Nations to continue delivering crucial humanitarian aid to millions of Syrians who have been displaced by the decade-long civil war. Friday’s vote at the U.N. Security Council took some US officials by surprise given Russia’s longtime opposition to the humanitarian corridor that has been used by the United Nations to deliver aid to millions of Syrians every month. Officials said it was evidence that the possibility of future US-Russia cooperation is better than was expected. “Syria is the biggest humanitarian crisis in the world today,” said Mark Cutts, the U.N. deputy regional humanitarian coordinator for the Syria crisis. “The people in these camps are mostly women, children, and the elderly. They are totally dependent on the aid that has been coming across the border from Turkey. That aid corridor has proven to be the only safe and reliable way of getting aid to these people. This is one of the most vulnerable populations in the world.” He called Friday’s vote “very encouraging.”

Lockdowns in Asia as some nations see 1st major virus surges (AP) Several countries around Asia and the Pacific that are experiencing their first major surges of the coronavirus rushed to impose tough restrictions, a year and a half into a pandemic that many initially weathered well. Faced with rapidly rising numbers of infections in recent months, authorities in such countries as Thailand, South Korea and Vietnam announced or imposed measures Friday that they hope can slow the spread before health care systems are overwhelmed. It’s a rhythm familiar in much of the world, where repeated surges deluged hospitals and led to high numbers of deaths. But many Asian countries avoided that cycle by imposing stiff travel restrictions combined with tough measures at home.

52 dead in Bangladesh factory fire as workers locked inside (AP) A fire engulfed a food and beverage factory outside Bangladesh’s capital, killing at least 52 people, many of whom were trapped inside by an illegally locked door, fire officials said Friday. The blaze began Thursday night at the five-story Hashem Foods Ltd. factory in Rupganj, just outside Dhaka, sending huge clouds of black smoke billowing into the sky. Police initially gave a toll of three dead, but then discovered piles of bodies on Friday afternoon after the fire was extinguished. So far 52 bodies have been recovered, but the top two floors of the factory have yet to be searched, said Debasish Bardhan, deputy director of the Fire Service and Civil Defense. He said the main exit of the factory was locked from the inside and many of those who died were trapped.

Violence erupts over jailing of South Africa’s ex-president (AP) Supporters of former South African president Jacob Zuma are protesting his imprisonment, burning trucks, commercial property, and blocking major roads in KwaZulu-Natal province. They are demanding that he be released from prison. Zuma started serving a 15-month sentence for contempt of court earlier this week. His bid to be released from the Estcourt Correctional Center was rejected by a regional court on Friday and he is set to make another attempt with the country’s apex court on Monday. His supporters in KwaZulu-Natal, his home area, have been blocking roads, setting trucks alight and damaging and looting shops in various spots in the province. At Mooi River, near Pietermaritzburg, about 20 trucks were stopped and set on fire early Saturday, according to witnesses.

[hellocutepanda]

Dead End

There was a whisper of movement as guns were pulled and pointed before anyone could blink. The don’t move or we’ll blow your fucking brains out was implied with a barrel to the head. 

“MI-6? What the fucking are you guys doing here?”

“Bloody CIA. Jesus Christ. Don’t you guys have anything better to do?” 

Caroline glared behind her aviators at the peanut gallery as she pulled her gun back from Klaus’ forehead and reholstered it with a smooth and easy movement. 

Klaus does the same, pulling his gun back from her temple and tucking it into the back of his cargo pants, pulling his sweat soaked shirt over the weapon, hiding it from view.

Their teams doing the same as they mutter expletives and glare eachother down. The blazing desert heat not doing anything to reign in their tempers.

“Omar?” Caroline asks as she pulls a bottle of water from her pack, taking a few gulps before offering it Klaus.

Klaus nods as he takes the bottle of water from her. Taking a long blissful drink that clears the dry desert sand from his throat. 

Caroline sighs as she looks over the ancient tomb that they had been investigating just outside of some poor rundown city in the Middle East.

“The World Bank said they were trying to keep this as quiet as possible.” Caroline says as she adjusts her pony tail under her ballcap that is doing a shit job of keeping the sun out of her face.

“More concerned with making sure he was caught than keeping it quiet so it seems.” Klaus says as he takes one more drink before handing the bottle of water back to Caroline.

Caroline screws the cap back onto the bottle and tucking it back into her pack as she releases an annoyed breath. “Could have covered more ground by now if they had told us they were pulling MI-6 into this. You would think they would know by now that we work better as a team than pitting us against each other.”

“Ah, there is that bright optimism and go team attitude that I do so enjoy.” Klaus teased. 

“Shut up!” Caroline said with a roll of her eyes, although couldn’t keep a small smile off her face as she bumped her shoulder against his, causing his mouth to kick up slightly. 

Glancing at Caroline and then back at the rest of her team, Klaus asked “Security force?” Referring to what looks to be her cover. Most of her team was dressed in cargo pants, polo shirts with Kevlar vests and guns on their hip save for two of their team that looked like a rich socialite couple. 

“Too many metal detectors.” She complains with a frown. “I’m surprised you guys went the tourist route.” 

Klaus’ team looked like your typical British tourists, except she knew under their loose clothing they were armed to the teeth.

“Our leads have been fairly low end.” 

“And both have led us here. False trails?”

“False trails and a dead end.” 

“Trails for whoever was going to look for them.” Caroline sighed with frustration. 

Klaus let out a commiserating breath and rubbed the back of his neck. 

“Since we are after the same target, we should work together, share intel.” 

Klaus gave her a suggestive smirk. “I’ll show you mine if you show me yours, sweetheart.”

Caroline rolled her eyes as she bumped her shoulder with this again. “Perv.”

“That he is, gorgeous.” Enzo said as he came up to the two commanders using a rag to wipe the sweat off of his face.

“Right?” Caroline says to Klaus’ second in command, giving him a quick glance before her eyes return to Klaus. 

Klaus opened his mouth to snap out a comment to his second in command when a gunshot rang out and the dirt at their feet kicking up. Caroline, Klaus and Enzo dived for the small wall that encircled the property, their guns pulled out and in their hands before they even hit the ground.

“Ok, maybe not so dead end.” Caroline said before she pressed the com at her ear. “Anyone see where that came from?”

We cleared the perimeter, commander. Most likely a sniper. Looks like the shot came from the north west.

Klaus was listening to his own com as Caroline peeked over the edge of the wall towards the direction of the shot and ducked back down as another shot was fired, ricocheting off the rock wall. 

“What was the intel you got?” Caroline asked Klaus as his hand fell away from his ear.

“Meeting at noon to make the exchange.” Klaus says as his eyes search the area behind him. Before looking forward, trusting his and her team to hold their ground.

Caroline nods as she glances at Enzo who is keeping an eye on the perimeter. “That’s what we got as well.” 

“It’s 12:20. Too late to be an advance team or a set up.” Klaus says, searching the area around them. 

“But why attack us? There is no point. This is a dead end for us.” Caroline asks. 

“I don’t know if you know this, love, but America happens to be on quite a few shit lists.”

Enzo leaned back a bit. “He’s right, gorgeous.”

“Thanks guys. I totally didn’t know that.” Caroline bit out sarcastically before pushing her com. “Circle round and see if you can pick up the sniper. I’ll keep their fire centered on me.” 

Caroline waited for the acknowledgment before dropping her hand from her com and looking at Klaus. Klaus gave a nod as he touched his own com. “Coordinate with CIA - go after the sniper. Their commander and I will draw their fire.” 

“Cover our six.” Klaus motioned to Enzo who kept crouched down as he ran towards the cover of the tomb that gave him a better vantage point to watch the commanders back.

Caroline peeked over the wall again, the sunlight glinting off her aviators and drawing another shot. 

“I am going to be seriously mad if this does turn out to be a anti-American yahoo.” Caroline said with a grimace. 

“Yahoo? I do so enjoy your American colloquialisms.” Klaus said unable to keep the teasing grin off his face.

“And here I thought your max vocabulary was only two syllable words.” 

Klaus had a pleased smile on his face as he sat up a bit to draw another shot from the sniper. 

Caroline recognized that smile. It was the smile he first gave her when she punched him in the face. Isn’t she stunning? He had asked Enzo as he fingered his split lip, looking absolutely enchanted with the beautiful woman who gave it to him.

“Now is not the time to fall in love with me, Klaus. You are going to get yourself shot.”

“Absolutely worth it, sweetheart.” 

Before Caroline could roll her eyes at that her com beeped. We have the shooter commander. Caroline looked up at Klaus and saw he was listening to his com, probably getting the exact same relay.

“Shall we find out if the shooter is indeed an anti-American yahoo?” Klaus said as he stood up, offering his hand to Caroline. 

Caroline took his hand, giving him a nod of thanks as he helped her to her feet and both of them holster their guns. 

“My place or yours, sweetheart.” Caroline rolls her eyes at him behind her sunglasses causing Klaus to grin.

“You’re the expert in interrogation.” Caroline said with a tinge of a grudge in her tone.

Klaus’ hackles rose as he defended himself. “All I said was that your prisoner would bleed out faster if you hung him upside down.”

“I didn’t need your constructive criticism, Klaus, on my interrogation techniques.”

Before Klaus could respond a black Range Rover pulled up next to them, the tinted driver side window rolling down as Enzo leaned out of the window. 

“Get in losers we’re going interrogating.”

Klaus moved forward to open the back door for Caroline but she bypassed the open door and went around to the front passenger side door, opening it up and getting in. “You are so stupid.” Caroline said to Enzo as she slammed the door closed and buckled herself in.

Klaus smiled ruefully as he got into the back seat and closed the door. Absolutely stunning. He thought to himself. 

Review 

[mad-unit-alive]

Roleplay with @l7814-tp

(Part 4)

*He connected his antenna real quick. To try to understand something. And, of course, froze up again*

"Of course" they chuckled "We're both claptrap units aren't we?"

"..."

*L7814-tp thought to himself again. Actually seeing what this monster looks like made him confused. But, then again, humans are very bright... So anything could happen*

"Well..."

*He then disconnects his antenna again. He was programmed to want to know other claptrap units better. He just can't look at this one because it frightens the ever hell out of him, and he doesn't like to stay in one spot for a long time*

"G-good to know... Well, um, since you already know my name... What's yours? It's always great to meet a comrade... Even if they're a giant scary monster!"

"I was never given a complete name when I was created, so due to my behavior and what I am made from, I'm called by Insanity." They replied.

"Ah"

*Was all L7814-tp could say. It is fitting. But just has his gun on his mind. Not to attack Insanity, mind you, but because apparently his semi-assult-sniper-rifle is his comfort item. Probably because it's big, green, able to shoot multiple times per reload, and has a nice scope. But, he doesn't know where he dropped it, and he is blind so he'll have to feel for it*

"Looking for something?" Insanity asked with a smirk in her voice.

The sound of clicking sounded, like someone flipping a rod of some kind. She twirled it in her claw like arms and inspected the gun.

"I see you're into sniper rifles as well, not a bad choice may I add. They are best for safe distance and making the kill almost anonymous." She continued. "Wonder how long you had this for."

"I just got it a few weeks ago actually. A human of mine (and my only human friend) friend that shows up on Concordia once and awhile gave it to me out of the blue."

*He said turning to face Insanity. Crossing his arms*

"Can I have my gun back please?"

Although he couldn't see her, Insanity made a playful mischievous smile and hand one arm hold it just about above her head and playfully laughed.

"Oh I don't know..." she said sarcastically. "Try to get it from me then?"

"How dare you."

*He said sternly. Even though he couldn't see, he could understand what's going on in context. He's had this happen to him so many times, it's not funny. And with the fact that he can't look at her without freezing and that he's shorter than her. It's almost practically impossible to get it back. He was thinking to himself as he explored the room (all while feeling the floor to know where he's going) to see if he can find anything to get him into the high ground*

She just chuckled at L7814-tp stumbling around and knew all too well that he wouldn't fix his eye and why.

"Kid, you haven't even much of seen what I look like. You have only seen my one claw and that was it." She corrected

"And I'd rather keep it that way! Do you know how long it takes for me to boot back up after shutting down? 3 days! And that's if someone happens to leave a cooling fan with me. Too much stress overheats my system!"

*He tripped on himself as he said that. But he got himself back up*

She bursts out laughing when he tripped. Before taking a deep breath and replying.

"Okay, let's try this." Was all she said before a sound of a flame burst emitted from where she was standing. Then she rolled up to him and without saying a word somehow reactivated his vision for a moment.

She looked like a normal claptrap unit, near his height with a navy blue paint job, eye was a slight pink and nothing appeared out of the ordinary when facing any other normal unit, no blood stains, no scars, no claws.... nothing.... they looked completely average.

"How's that?" The unit asked

"How- Much better actually..."

*{How the heck did she do that!?} He thought to himself. But then the thought got overruled*

"Now give me back my gun!!"

*He then reached for his gun furiously*

A red light flashes in front of him and L7814-tp falls straight to the floor. Did he just warp through her!?

A giggle was heard from a few feet away and the unit was standing

"Ok, ok I'm done playing!" She laughs.

Going over to help him up and handed the gun over.

Still unable to contain her laughter.

*he grabbed his gun and hugged it tightly before putting it away. But he was mad though. He couldn't believe he got fooled by a comrade so easily. But then again, Insanity is different than an average comrade*

"Thank you... But damn you..."

*He said angrily*

Insanity only laughed before have a hologram wink emoji appear in front of her.

"Hey, it's better than killing you slow like how the manager here died. Believe his death was slow and cruel." She remarked.

"Consider yourself lucky that you are even a comrade. Or else fate could have dragged you the same way as that guy." She pointed to a man's corpse, which appeared that his insides were ripped out and his intestines were wrapped around his neck tightly, choked and hung there.

"He was awake for the whole thing, in case you were wondering."

*{Cheese and rice!}*

"You're right on that..."

*And that's when he remembered something*

"Oh wait, the mission! I got a mission to do!"

*And for the next few seconds, he tried to pick up the coordinates, but nothing showed up. He adjusted his atenna a bit. Still nothing*

"What's the mission about?" She asked

"If it's after some crystal heart found from the Helios crash, then I can help in a way" insanity continued. "But sadly you can't have it."

"It was very vague... But it didn't say anything about a crystal..."

*After slapping the side of him a couple time he picked up the signal*

"Ah! I got a sig-"

[duhragonball]

[FIC] Luffa: The Legendary Super Saiyan (124/?)

Disclaimer: This story features characters and concepts based on Dragon Ball, which is a trademark of Bird Studio/Shueisha and Toei Animation.   This is an unauthorized work, and no profit is being made on this work by me. This story is copyright of me. Download if you like, but please don’t archive it without my permission. Don’t be shy.

Continuity Note: About 1000 years before the events of Dragon Ball Z.

[15 June, 233 Before Age. Planet Yars.]

The Jindan Cult's war against the Federation was essentially a coordinated series of raids. Small groups of Saiyan cultists would attempt to invade a planet, usually along the Federation's frontier, and the defenders would be forced to respond before they could entrench themselves. The Saiyan Free Company, led by Princess Seltiss, could be counted on to handle one or two Jindan cultists, and the Federation fleet could intercept the cult's ships and destroy them before their crews could bring their powers to bear. But when six or more of the cultists landed on a planet together, it was a job for Luffa. Only the Super Saiyan had the power to cope with so many of the alchemically-enhanced warriors. And even then, they managed to wear her down, battle by battle, to the point where she needed time to recover.

During Luffa's convalescence, the cult managed to conquer Yars and without Luffa available to stop them, they went to work on fortifying the planet to serve as a base of operations. All the Federation and its allies could do was to intercept any Jindan reinforcements before they could reach the occupied planet.

But the cult had other ways to strengthen its position. Later, Yartian witnesses would tell stories of a gruesome ritual they performed, where one of their priestesses vomited red liquid onto the ground, and then an enormous earthen figure emerged from below. Then they worshiped this walking idol with cheers, songs, and sacrifices. The Federation's defenders knew this creature was an avatar of the cult's leader, Trismegistus, also known as the Saiyan King Rehval III. These avatars were immensely powerful, and now that the occupiers had one of them on the planet, there would be no way of removing them without Luffa's help.

"I would have thought she'd have been here by now," the rock-Rehval said. He was seated upon a giant stone throne that his followers had built for him in what used to be the planet's capital city. "Fifteen of my followers would be tempting enough bait by themselves, but I was sure she'd jump at the chance to destroy another one of my bodies."

One of his flock stood on the armrest of his stone chair. His job was officially to oversee construction projects in the area and to see to his master's needs, but the rock creature needed nothing, as the real Rehval was controlling it from many light years away. He was mostly there to let the avatar know when it was time to fight.

"I'm sorry to disappoint you, Thrice Blessed One," the man said.

"Well, it can't be helped," Rehval said with a mighty shrug. "I'll just go dormant for a while and check in again. It's not like she can get close to the planet without one of you sensing her approach or detecting her ship."

And so the great stone form of Rehval grew still. And just as the attendant turned to consider his other duties, he was decapitated by a beam of red light. Had he survived this, or if his master had not withdrawn his presence from the earthen figure, one of them might have recognized this as Luffa's signature technique, the Vengeance Cannon. Instead, his headless body tumbled to the idol's feet, while the idol itself remained motionless. Luffa approached it a few seconds later, and waited patiently for the other fourteen cultists to sense her power and find her. Civilian witnesses would describe the yellow glow of her hair and tail, and a sense of unease. Most Federation citizens appreciated Luffa as a benevolent protector, but many had seconds thoughts after seeing her in action. The news media tended to edit footage of her battles for the sake of decorum, but those who saw her fight in person had no such filter.

"You fools make it so easy," she gloated when they finally arrived. "You thought I'd rush in on a battleship, full power, give you plenty of warning. It never occurred to you that I'd do it all sneaky-like, did it? Suppress my power, coast my way into the system, reconnoiter for a few days."

"We still should have detected your ship!" one of the cultists protested. They all surrounded her as she floated above their earthen idol, daring them to chase her away from it.

Luffa laughed. "You call yourselves Saiyans?" she scoffed. "You must have forgotten everything you know about warfare when you went for this magical nonsense. You took this planet, sure, but you're still behind enemy lines. All the defense systems are enemy tech, aren't they? Including the early-warning outpost on the twelfth planet in this system. You didn't think those guys were much of a threat, but they've been scrambling your sensors since before I got here. So if you didn't detect my ship, blame those guys. I'm surprised your 'all-knowing' leader didn't mention it to you earlier."

"You're still outmatched, infidel!" one of the cultists cried as she brandished her spear at Luffa. "Even if you could defeat all of us, we only have to touch Trismegistus' form to summon him back to aid us!"

"Yeah," Luffa said. "I'm counting on it. Should make things really interesting. How long would it take for him to get here? A minute? Two minutes? And how many of you will be alive to help him once he's ready? And that's assuming you can get past me long enough to touch this thing. So many variables. I'm getting excited just thinking about it."

Without warning, she suddenly pounced onto one of the Jindan Saiyans and wrapped her legs around his before any of them could react. As she locked in the hold, he cried out in agony.

None of then had expected her to do this. It was folly to use a jointlock on a single opponent during a battle with so many enemies. And yet Luffa had done it anyway, leaving herself wide open for an attack. Only the attack never came, because her foes were too confused to seize their chance.

When one of them finally did react, he got as far as crying "For the Glory of Trismegistus!" before Luffa flew into the air to dodge his blast. Then she slammed into him, dragging her captive behind her as she continued to torture him with her hold.

"She's mad!" one of the Saiyans said in a panicked voice.

Luffa's raucous laughter did little to dissuade them from this opinion. She flew around her enemies like a hornet weaving through a group of frightened picnickers. When they finally gained the sense to try to intercept her and box her in, she used her arms to fire back on them. A Saiyan tried to cone up from behind her, but she flipped around as he approached, and swung her captive into him like a club.

His now constant wailing had taken a severe toll on their morale. Only a short while ago, they had been confident about their mission, but now, they all felt they were in a battle for survival, and they were losing. None of them dared to go for the earthen giant below. As powerful as the avatar could be, they each feared that Luffa would pick them off unless they all fought together.

As Luffa dodged their attacks, one of them stood still, struggling to prepare an energy technique. A ball of light coalesced above his right hand, and he growled and gritted his teeth as he willed it into existence. When the moment was right, he would unleash the power, and then--!

Before he could finish, a plasma bolt struck him on the side of his head, and he collapsed. He was dead before he hit the ground. Six hundred yards away, Zatte smiled as she looked at his dead body in the scope of her rifle, then shifted her aim to pick out a new target.

On the battlefield, the Jindan Saiyans saw one of their own fall, and believed it was Luffa's doing. They began to fear that her attacks could come without warning, and their panic forced them to go on the defensive. Luffa had killed the man she had caught in her leglock, and now she was seeking out a fresh victim. No one wanted to volunteer. In this way, the Jindan Saiyans gave up their sole advantage over Luffa. Their numbers could only overwhelm her if they attacked her together. Now, as thy scattered and kept their distance, they were unable to coordinate anything. One of them went for the avatar on the throne. Luffa fired a ki blast that got there first, reducing Rehval's graven image into a cloud of dust.

Luffa grabbed a Saiyan woman and broke her neck with a single kick. Another Jindan Saiyan tried to fight back, but he was cut down by Zatte's sniper fire before he could act. Luffa spared a backward glance to where the plasma bolt had come from, but quickly turned around in time to block an elbow strike and reverse it into a hammerlock. She used the man as a shield for a moment, then fired a ki blast through his torso, killing him and one of his comrades in the same shot.

That left just six of the original fifteen. With the power of Jindan running through their veins, six Saiyans were more than a match for nearly any force in the galaxy. Against Luffa, six were nothing at all. Under different circumstances, Luffa might have toyed with them, but she felt that they had held this planet long enough, and deemed that their occupation would not last a moment longer than necessary.

Civilian witnesses would later speak of the brutal efficiency of those final moments of the battle, but also that Luffa was laughing with joy the entire time.

*******

[15 June, 233 Before Age. Nagaoka.]

The Federation had managed to thwart or repel every Jindan invasion into their territory. The casualty rate on the cultist's side was 100%. They continued to send warriors anyway. The prevailing attitude among the Federation's military leaders was that if they could easily win this war, if only they could take the fight to the enemy. But the cultists' home base was its most carefully guarded secret. Here, on Nagaoka, if King Rehval knew or cared that Yars had been liberated, his fifteen warriors slaughtered, and his earthen idol destroyed, he did not show it. Instead, he spent his day poring over scrolls he had gathered over the years, choosing which would offer the best education for his new student.

For her part, Treekul had no interest in learning anything from him. She had only come to this planet because three Saiyans wanted to find the Jindan Cult, and she had been intrigued enough by the opportunity to join their quest. She was an archaeologist, one specializing in ancient alchemical texts and artifacts. She joined the Saiyans for the challenge, and because she knew that Saiyans tended to find a handsome profit whenever they wanted to do something. But the Jindan Cult was no ancient puzzle to be excavated and studied. There was no payday at the end of their search. Instead they were stolen away to a secret lair. Her Saiyan partners had been indoctrinated into the cult, while their leader, Rehval, or "Trismegistus" as they called him, decided to make her his apprentice in the alchemical arts.

It could have been much worse, she told herself. The cult only accepted Saiyans, so it stood to reason that an alien like herself would have been executed on the spot. Her only advantage in this predicament was that Rehval seemed to enjoy keeping her around. He often told her that he found her attractive, but he also seemed impressed with her alchemical knowledge, and maybe he found it refreshing to have someone to talk to who wasn't brainwashed into worshiping the ground he walked on.

And so, her best chance of escape lay in exploiting his fancy. He made her a priestess in his mad religion, and commanded her to wear a sort of dress made of torn robes, and so she did. He wanted to teach her his secrets, and so she played the eager student. He flirted with her constantly, and she did everything she could to hide her disgust. Because she knew that if she did this long enough, he would eventually come to trust her, and that would be when her opportunity would present itself.

That was her greatest strength on a planet full of mighty Saiyans. They all spoke highly of their pride, but Treekul didn't have much use for it herself. "Pride" was just another word for "stubborn" in her book, and she knew far too many stubborn, brittle people who broke because they refused to bend. A little flexibility went a long way. For one thing, stubborn, brittle people had a nasty habit of mistaking compromise with surrender, which made them careless. She didn't like wearing red rags, or being forbidden to cut her own hair, or having to listen to Rehval's lectures, but she could tolerate it if she had to, and Rehval would assume she had already submitted to his will.

As she sat in the underground cavern that served as his laboratory, he went on and on about his discoveries and achievements. She knew the type well. He wanted a woman to hang on his every word, to nod in fascination, and tell him how brilliant he was.

"What is Jindan?" he asked aloud. "The word 'jindan' is easily defined. It's simply another name for mercuric sulfide, commonly known as the mineral cinnabar, or the pigment vermilion. Common chemists would say that it's a toxic substance, and they're... mainly correct. Most carbon-based life forms are poisoned by mercury salts. However, alchemical thought sees beyond the mere physical nature of mercuric sulfide, and explores the deeper truth that the salt represents.

"In alchemy, the element mercury is considered an important symbol. Unlike most metals, it is liquid at room temperature. It flows like molten silver, which is how it came to be known as "quicksilver". It is rather slow to react with most chemical reagents, although it has a number of interesting interactions with other metals. Gold is soluble in mercury, which made it very useful for the ancient mining industries of many planets. With enough heat, a gold/mercury amalgam can be separated. The mercury boils away, leaving purified gold behind. Mercury also dissolves aluminum. It almost seems to devour these metals, which may have been what has fascinated ancient alchemists since the dawn of time.

"Then there's cinnabar. The deep scarlet color of mercuric sulfide is also of great importance to alchemical philosophy. Red, the color of blood, the color of fire. The color of change and life itself. The earliest practitioners of alchemy knew that it held the secret of the great mystery, the mystery that governed all changes in nature. Copper and tin could be refined from mineral ores. Nature provides the minerals, but the metals must be taken through artificial means. The process must be sped up to a time scale that is practical for mortals. That is the power of alchemy. To accelerate or manipulate the natural processes. Mercuric sulfide represents that power in its most basic form. Mix metal mercury with hydrogen sulfide, and they form red mercuric sulfide quite readily. Distill the mercuric sulfide, and the elements can be separated, and the mercury recovered once more. Just like with copper and tin and iron, only mercury can be refined much more easily."

Treekul had heard much of this before, as a college freshman. The professor who taught that course only offered one class every other semester, and only on two days a week in the middle of the day, which had been extremely inconvenient to her schedule. What struck her was how passionate Rehval was about it, as though he wanted to make love to a mercury atom. She had to suppress the urge to laugh at that image.

"The dream of alchemy," he said, finally coming to the point, "is to reduce all natural processes to the same simplicity of refining mercury from cinnabar."

That got Treekul's attention. Simplicity. The core tenet of alchemy was that every process was a natural reaction that could be sped up, slowed down, or even reversed. It was just a matter of knowing how, of discovering the "cheat codes" that made such miracles possible. Know the right shortcuts, and one could do the impossible.

Treekul began to wonder if there was an alchemical shortcut for escaping a Saiyan cult.

"Let us consider the other component of cinnabar, which is sulfur," Rehval continued. "It is native to fire, earth, air, and water. Volcanoes spew fire and air and geysers spew water, all rich in sulfur, which eventually deposits as a waxy yellow material resembling earth. From within the earth, sulfur is born, and to earth again it returns. Molten sulfur turns blood red, hinting at its ties to cinnabar. When sulfur is set aflame, it produces a blue color. Colloidal sulfur is white. The colors illustrate sulfur's connection to the sun. It is the principle of the sun.

"Likewise, mercury is the principle of the moon. Take a bottle of mercury and spill it across a surface. It scatters into droplets, both large and small, like the many moons of different sizes throughout the countless worlds of the universe. These droplets can be bound to sulfur, just as the moons of the universe are bound to their respective suns. However, the moons are defined by their connection with the planets they orbit. Just as the planets exist as the intermediaries of the suns and moons, so does life exist as an interface between the Principles of Mercury and Sulfur. Those with wisdom can recognize this sacred relationship, and thus study the nature of cinnabar, or jindan, in the search for the power over life. For what is life but a natural process, no different from the refining of metal from ore, or the burning of wood into smoke and ash? By manipulating the Principles of Mercury and Sulfur, an elixir can be prepared, one that reacts with the reagents of life itself, accelerating some processes, while slowing others. The ideal elixir would grant a being immortality, but the wise know that this is not a thing to be pursued for material gain, or as an escape from death. No, the elixir of life is an end unto itself. Discover that ultimate secret, and all other secrets, the Whole of the Great Mystery, will be laid bare. What is immortality, when weighed against that perfect and total knowledge?

"Though sulfur represents an equal portion of Jindan, we must consider mercury to be the superior portion. Mercury has the greater density, and its atoms are larger and more massive than those of sulfur. Every planet has a sun, but only some are blessed with the moonlight, of which mercury is a symbol. For this reason, the alchemical notation for mercury is depicted as an arc atop a ring atop a cross. The arc is the crescent moon, the ring is the sun, an the cross is the life on the planet sustained by them both. The cross represents the veins that carry blood through the body, sustaining life with the same color as jindan. Mercury is the moon, placed above the sun, which is Sulfur, placed above the planets, which are Life.

He paused here to write the symbol on a handheld electronic tablet: "☿". It was the only modern technology Treekul recognized in this laboratory. Everything else looked either archaic or unfamiliar, or both. She had seen the symbol before, of course, and the one for sulfur as well, which was a triangle atop a cross. But something about Rehval's fervor in describing it made her uneasy. To her it was a piece of trivia, but it was clearly something deep and meaningful to him.

"All of this," Rehval said, "Is a very elaborate way of saying that Jindan, my Jindan, is a way of harnessing planetary energy as a supplement to ones own ki. Cinnabar represents the connection between the Principles and living beings, but it's also just a mineral you dig up from the ground. Ancient scholars would drink potions of cinnabar and die, or go mad from mercury poisoning, because they took the connection too literally, too directly. The truth is more sublime, more complex.

"You see, there are three types of ki in the universe. The ki of living things is what makes the Saiyan race mighty. We Saiyans have more of this energy than most beings, which makes us stronger, better. Then there's the ki of the heavens. The sun and the moon. The stars themselves possess a ki which is inaccessible to us. Oh, the moonlight allows Saiyans to transform into giant apes, but the moonlight is only a catalyst for releasing latent ki we already possess. That's why I cut off my tail a long time ago, because I learned to harness that latent power without transforming. It's why I ask my followers to do the same. We don't need the moon. We don't need tails.

He pointed at the cavern floor. "What we need is the third ki, which is found in the ground beneath our feet. This is the interface where life and the heavens meet. Mercuric sulfide. The moon and the sun combine to form a mineral, which resembles lifeblood but can kill the uninitiated. My Jindan is the ki equivalent of that elixir. My technique is to draw power from within a planet. Done properly, it can magnify your strength many times over. But if the power is harnessed recklessly, it can destroy the user completely. Do you understand, Treekul?"

"Not entirely, but I get the general idea, I think. How'd you figure all of this out?" she asked.

"Alchemy has long been one of my passions," he said. "I wasn't blessed with great ki like other members of my family, and I sought an explanation for that injustice. Alchemy teaches us that the universe is governed by rules, but those rules can be manipulated by those who know how. Thus I was able to become as strong as I wished, as powerful as I wished to become. I turned lead into gold by transforming my base self into the golden King of the Saiyans. Soon to become King of the Universe. There remains only one obstacle, one stubborn impurity to be purged."

"Luffa," Treekul said.

"I've seen enough divinations to know that our destinies are intertwined, hers and mine. She is the Sun, bright and yellow and powerful. I am the Moon, lurking in the shadows, sublime and contemplative. The key is that our genders don't line up to that analogy. In alchemical thought, the Sun-Sulfur Principle is male, while the Moon-Mercury Principle is considered female."

"Cool, but what's that got to do with it?" she asked.

"It means that I must join with her, to complete the intermingling of our essences," Rehval said. "Well, that sounds a bit esoteric, doesn't it? The simpler explanation is that I need her, or some part of her, to complete my legacy. If she won't join me, then I'll have to take from her what I need. The Golden King must have the Super Saiyan power along with everything else. As a Saiyan myself, it stands to reason that if I defeat the Super Saiyan, that would mean I become the Super Saiyan."

"Wait, you think killing her would suddenly cause you to absorb her transformation into yourself?" Treekul asked.

He chuckled at that suggestion. "No, not really, though it is an interesting possibility. Perhaps the Super Saiyan only emerges once every thousand years because there must be one and only one. If the one that emerges were to die, would the power automatically go to another? Another natural process in the universe, one that I can study and master, but only when Luffa has been neutralized once and for all. I don't need to become a Super Saiyan literally, Treekul. Not when I can learn what the power is and how it works. If I find a way to make Super Saiyans at will, then I would be more powerful than any Super Saiyan before or after. That's the power I want. If my descendants can benefit from it, then the Saiyan race will have surely triumphed over all."

Treekul wasn't sure what to say. "You're a hell of a guy, King Rehval," was all she could manage.

"Thank you, my dear," he said. "And I think you'll make an excellent courtesan. It'll be nice to have someone to discuss spagyric theory with."

She made an audible gulp.

*******

[15 June, 233 Before Age. Planet Yars.]

Luffa's star-yacht, the Emerald Eye, had fifty cabins, most of which rarely ever saw use since Luffa took ownership of the vessel. She had occasionally used the extra living space for guests, though the only time it had approached the maximum capacity was when she had hosted strategic conferences between the Wist-Extraliga Wars. Among the many aliens on board during that time, there was once a Solarian monk who had left a letter on the bed during his stay. He had sensed great turmoil in Luffa's spirit, even by the standard of most warriors he had encountered, and his intention was that she would discover the letter at some later date, and perhaps find a measure of comfort in the words he had written. Also on the bed were a pair of the monk's headphones, which had no special significance. He had left those behind purely by accident.

When Luffa finally entered the cabin, she only noticed the letter and headphones long enough to sweep them aside as she laid her wife on the bed. The monk's letter fell to the floor, where it would never be seen again. They were too preoccupied with each other to worry about it.

"You... never... should have... got...gotten... so close to the....mmph... battlefield," Luffa said as she started pulling off whatever articles of clothing she could manage. She had some trouble speaking, as Zatte kept kissing her between each word.

"You're right," Zatte said. "But you were there, so I went in anyway."

"I almost didn't make it," Luffa whispered into her ear. "One of them was all set to blast half the city. The half you were in. He would have killed you--"

"But he hesitated," Zatte replied. She grabbed the front of Luffa's sleeveless shirt and pulled on it until it ripped apart. "They always hesitate, because they don't know who I am or what I'm doing there. More than enough time for my golden girl to come to my rescue."

"I was fighting twelve of them," Luffa panted.

"Eleven, after the one I shot," Zatte said. "Ten, if one of them managed to run off looking for the shooter. And they never find me until I want to be found."

"That's still too close, young lady," Luffa said. "You took a big gamble..."

"It felt like it," Zatte said. "But I wasn't really in any danger. Or are you saying those twelve Saiyans were too much for you?"

"You... ah!... you want the truth?" Luffa asked.

"I wouldn't be asking if I didn't," Zatte asked.

She inhaled sharply and gripped Zatte's shoulders tightly. "I have no idea," she said.

"Say that again," Zatte said.

"I don't know for sure if I could have beaten all twelve of them or not," Luffa said, an octave higher than she usually spoke. "Not if one of them managed to bring that rock creature back to life. Dammit, your hair smells amazing."

"Thanks, but don't... wow... don't change the subject."

"I thought I was in a pinch," Luffa said. Her voice began to tremble as she went on. "I was actually... glad when you shot one of those guys... but then I wasn't sure I could hold them off and help you at the same time."

"But you did," Zatte said. "You won, just like always."

"Thanks to you," Luffa said. "Without your courage I... I..."

For some time after that, they each found they had little else to say, so they used their bodies instead. There was a great deal of theatrics to their intimacy. Luffa alternated between her transformed and normal states depending on the mood. Occasionally, Zatte would become invisible, or alter her own body temperature using her ability to manipulate energy, mostly for the novelty of it. Telepathic communion had proven corrosive to their relationship, though Luffa had recently discovered a way to work around that. Instead of opening their minds to one another completely, she could establish a connection very briefly, allowing only a very small exchange of their thoughts. Mostly these mental quanta were too small and random to be of any meaning. It was for fun, more than anything else. A way for each of them to hear the other's voice in her head, even if it was gibberish like "laundry", "perpendicular", "beloved", or "leftovers".

There was no clock in the room, and neither of them had any interest in asking the computer to tell them the time. The battle of Yars was won, and until there was any word on another attack, there was nothing to do but wait. At some point, Zatte stood by the cabin window and admired the view of the planet's dayside.

"Was this how you thought it would be?" she asked Luffa without looking away from the window.

"What do you mean?" Luffa asked.

"I mean, was this how you wanted your life to turn out?" Zatte asked.

"Well, the last couple of hours have gone great," Luffa said with a satisfied smile.

"I mean, the whole thing, dummy," Zatte said. "When I was a kid, this was pretty much how I thought it would be. I had this old book my uncle gave me before he died. It was all about space battles and all the characters in the illustrations weren't really dressed for it. There was this one picture of a princess staring out a window on a ship. I guess that's why I'm standing here right now."

"Yeah, but you don't really like to fight," Luffa said.

Zatte nodded. "I guess it's not exactly what I had in mind, but most of it worked out for me. You and me, together, roaming the stars in our ship." She turned from the window, and gestured to the ocular implant where her right eye used to be. "I guess I pictured myself having two eyes and a lot fewer scars, but I think it's worth it. I may not like to fight the way you do, but I take a lot of satisfaction in the results. I have a holy cause. Someone to belong to. That's worth a few injuries, I think."

She sat down on the bed and patted Luffa's shoulder. "So was this anything like what you expected?" Zatte asked.

"I don't want this to come out the wrong way," Luffa said. "But when I was a kid, I figured you'd be a Saiyan man, and I'd have six or seven brats underfoot."

"Oh, right," Zatte said. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have asked--"

"No, it's all right, Zattie," Luffa said. "It's just... I had no idea what I'd become. I still don't know what I am. I wasn't kidding before when I said I didn't know if I could beat those Saiyans. It was like, one minute I wasn't strong enough to take them, and the next minute I was. Maybe knowing you might be in trouble was what did it. It pushed me over the edge, like when I first transformed."

"That's wonderful," Zatte said. "If I helped you get stronger, then I'm honored..."

"Before, I would have died before accepting help from anyone in a fight," Luffa went on. "Now... well it doesn't bother me as much. I just sort of shrug and keep going. I've fought battles and won victories that would keep most Saiyans satisfied for a lifetime. But I see all the people who suffer on the sidelines, and that bugs me more than I thought it would."

"You're helping those people," Zatte said. "You should take pride in that."

"Maybe. It's just hard for me to say it's worth it, when I don't really know what 'it' is. Seems like it keeps changing on me. But one thing I do know..."

She took Zatte's hand and drew her closer. "There's a lot I'm not sure about, but hearing you say this is how you hoped it would be... well, that puts my mind at ease. People tell me I'm doing the right thing, and it's hard for me to know if that's true, but at least they're saying it. You guys can't all be wrong."

Zatte lay down beside her and put her head on her shoulder. "You'll see," she said. "One day, you'll understand what you've become. Until then, well, it's kind of cool that you don't get it, but you keep plugging away at it anyway."

*******

[15 June, 233 Before Age. Nagaoka.]

The acolytes waited on her hand and foot, as they always did. Rehval had arranged for Treekul to be a priestess in the cult, which granted her considerable freedom and privilege. Rank-and-file cultists had almost every aspect of their lives micromanaged. Their diet, exercise, sleep patterns, even their sex lives were strictly regulated by Rehval's priests. In turn, the priesthood answered to Rehval, though she had found that they were so thoroughly indoctrinated that they needed little direct guidance from him. Treekul was the only exception. She was mostly exempt from priestly duties, which was fortunate, since she had little understanding of what those duties were. Even so, the cultists treated her with the utmost devotion, if only out of respect for the office.

Rehval had multiple reasons for arranging this. First, it kept his followers off-balance. They had been taught to view outsiders as inferior or even wicked, and yet he had allowed an alien in their midst and given her a place of honor. Contradiction was one of many tools he used to control them all. Second, it suited his ego to work his "apprentice and/or consort" into his private religious order. Third, it kept Treekul off-balance. She was a prisoner here, and the "apprenticeship" made her feel more like a slave than a student. And yet, when she was dismissed from her lessons, she was treated like a queen, and free to do whatever she liked... except leave.

"Is there anything else we can do for you, mistress?" one of her attendants asked. The anxiety in his voice was depressingly typical for this place. It was the sound of a man who was constantly terrified of displeasing his superiors. Like all of the Saiyans here, he had come seeking power, only to find that it would be taken away if he displeased his benefactor.

Treekul finished her meal--a bland stew made with artificial proteins-- and shook her head. "Not unless you know where I can get a haircut," she said. "I could use my ki for that," the other Saiyan volunteered. He raised his hand and the tips of his fingers glowed with blue light.

"S-so could I!" the other man quickly added. Treekul was too tired to look at him, but she could tell from his voice that he was worried that he hadn't thought of the idea himself.

"I may have to take you up on that," Treekul said, "but I'd much rather do it myself. There's something pleasant about using a hair trimmer, you know? Too bad I don't have it..."

She was about to mention that her hair trimmer had been confiscated when she was brought to the planet, but then Treekul had an idea. "I mean... it's too bad that it broke down on me the other day," she said. "I haven't slept well since it stopped working."

She ran her hand over the shallow field of green hair on her scalp. "It relaxes me, is all. I know it's not that long, but there's a certain length where it's just right. Too short, and it's rough, like sandpaper. Too long, and it feels too soft. So I trim it constantly, or I used to, anyway."

"Perhaps the technicians could fix it," one of the Saiyan men suggested.

"Technicians?" Treekul asked. "Oh, I'm sure they're much too busy maintaining Trismegistus's more important equipment. It'd be selfish of me to impose."

"Not at all," he said. "I know one of the technicians, and she would be honored to serve you, mistress. She's my... well, she used to be my wife."

Treekul tried not to react to the barely-repressed emotion in his voice. Rehval had very strange notions about breeding practices. She wasn't entirely sure how he ran things as King of the Saiyans, but as Trismegistus, he dissolved all family ties and commanded his followers to participate in communal sex rituals. And yet, Treekul had never seen any children or pregnant women on this planet. Rehval seemed to want a new generation of Saiyans, but she had no idea where he was keeping them. Maybe he had a second underground facility for that.

"I'd like to meet her," Treekul said. "You know, just to see some of Trismegistus' followers working for his greater glory. Yeah, that kind of thing."

What Treekul really wanted was to get as much sleep as she could before reporting to Rehval for another lesson. But this was too good an opportunity to pass up. It had taken days for her to learn enough about the cult's inner workings to confirm that spaceships were routinely moving to and from whatever planet this was. Ships required regular maintenance, and if Treekul could find the maintenance crews, she could find a docking bay, or perhaps a flight schedule or cargo manifest. Even if all she found was a star chart to tell her where in the universe she was, Treekul believed it was worth losing a few more hours of sleep.

"At once!" he blurted out. Then the other Saiyan nudged him with his elbow, and he thought better of it. "Er, I mean... after we've finished our duty shift, that is," he said.

"With your permission," the other man offered, "we could take the device to her and bring it back once it's repaired."

"Nah, that's all right," Treekul said. "I'd really like to meet her in person, and I'm in no big hurry. We can work something out later."

They exchanged awkward pleasantries, the two men apologizing for any inconvenience, and she halfheartedly assuring them that she wasn't displeased with their work. Then she withdrew to her quarters, a space roughly the size of a studio apartment that had been hewn out of solid rock.

It wasn't a total loss, she thought to herself as she lay in her bed. At least she had learned that the technicians weren't off-limits to her. She just had to wait a little longer before seeing them. And once she knew where to go, she could return whenever she pleased

And there were other possibilities. She had hoped Endive might help her once she learned the truth about Trismegistus being Rehval, but so far nothing had come of that. If anything, her devotion to the man seemed to be even stronger for some reason. But maybe Endive just needed time to let the truth sink in. And there was still Lesseri, and Guwar, although she hardly ever saw him anymore.

And there was always the chance that Rehval's enemies might somehow track him down and invade the planet. Treekul wasn't sure she would survive a battle like that, but at least it was one more chance. She was building quite a collection of chances. One of them was bound to pan out.

An hour later, she fell asleep, in spite of the uncomfortable length of her hair.

NEXT: Fytpall.

[bluthundr-will-slatra]

Miragehound Week - Day 1

It’s 5 minutes from midnight so it’s getting queued but it’s here! My writing debut and first entry for Miragehound Week! I really like how this one turned out. Let me know what you think!

Day 1 - First Meeting Title: Beaten Word Count: 1,123 Warnings: Mild blood and violence, temporary character death

Thump Thump Thump

One by one they land. Heart pounding, adrenaline pumping, it’s a mad dash to scavenge supplies before the bloodbath begins. Bullets and frags fly as the explosions throw grit and dust in their wake. Too many people, his team says. This shouldn’t be happening. Screams and fire echo throughout the town, the dash becomes a dance, deadly to those in its wake. Duck, dive, dodge, fire, retreat, repeat. Twisting and turning their way around the enemy, they need to retreat. A sudden blast and smoke fill the area, the town is quieter now. How long had it been? Eyes stinging, lungs burning, Mirage hacks his way through the cloud. Not fast enough. The end is in sight but another blast and this time followed by an unearthly howl. Red. Red and glowing growling light coming straight for him. The dance begins anew but this time he doesn’t lead. A hand forces him back, buckshot grazing where he once stood. Run. They run and don’t look back. Who was that? This wasn’t how his first game was supposed to be. Never should have landed in Skull Town.

Thump Thump Thump

Footfalls echo throughout the caves. Steps light and heavy, chests heaving, not a word spoken. They don’t dare look back. Minutes pass and nothing follows, he’s crying in relief. Battered but not beaten they take the time to recover, get to know one another before the trial ahead. Tears gone and face streaked with grime he must look mad as he showboats, replacing insecurity with cockiness. Zion has a wife and kids. Kilimanjaro lost hers. The games pave their way to a better future, the more they survive the higher the payout. How could his reasons ever compete? Suddenly a streak of orange, a growl in the distance. They’ve been found. Panic unlike he’s ever seen contorts his teams face. The Bloodhound, they say. The Bloodhound comes for them.

Thump Thump Thump It feels great to perform in front of an audience yet beating the life out of a man leaves a sour taste in his mouth. A team in an unfortunate situation, it felt almost wrong to take advantage of their spoils. He laughs as he punches, what more could a lone person do? He enjoys the game, smiles for whatever crowd may be watching. A sick satisfaction settles upon him at his enemy’s confusion, which clone is the real one? He’s having too much fun, doesn’t realize his team soldiers on. KRAK Kraber. Zion goes down, Kilimanjaro screams, his heart turns to ice. A sniper but from where? Ice turns to molasses, time slows down and he hides. One more shot and he’s out, he himself doesn’t have the armor to help. A hiss erupts as Kilimanjaro’s armor covers her and she rushes into the open. KRAK One hit, she’s crouched on the ground, a mountain of a woman shielding her teammate from harm. Why couldn’t he get up faster? Where is that sniper? KRAK A second hit, already her armor is crumbling. She can’t take another. A croak from above, since when to birds stick around? A crow, a raven? Now isn’t the time to worry, his teammates don’t have much time. He sends out a decoy and hopes. It’s running at a leisurely jog, he really needs to fix that. He’s shaking, time couldn’t be moving slower. KRAK A third hit. Kilimanjaro gets up and the decoy goes down, they make a break for the Wetlands. He’s still pressed against the mountain, he needs to cross that valley. The sniper must have reloaded by now. He missed his chance, they know his game. A steady breath. Another. He sends out a decoy and he follows. It’s a gamble, he’s put himself in front. Sweat races down his temple, his breath comes in short bursts, vision tunnels as he approaches his team. KRAK The decoy disappears. They’ve made it. He laughs and sprints ahead, the area untouched and theirs for the taking. Well earned loot after the trouble they went though. Yet something is wrong, he feels. His hair stands on end. A croak. A raven. He realizes. They aren’t safe. It’s too late. Thump Thump Thump Artillery rains from the sky. It strikes closer and closer still. A heavy thunk and the platform turns to smoke once more. Thunder almost drowns out the inhuman roar and the hunt begins anew. He didn’t make it in time, dazed and confused from the shell shock. They have no choice but to fight. They stand ready, thanking each other for a good match. The pain never comes. Rapid fire shots ring in the distance. They’ve been intercepted. A quick discussion, do they fight the champion? It’s only an exhibition match. The fight grows closer as do the heavy growls. A decision, they flee down the hill and zipline away. Safety at the swamps. Their true final stand. Thump Thump Thump One by one the bodies fall. How did so many make it to the end? Their coordination falls apart, every man for themselves. Screaming, smoke, explosions, and muck. It’s the beginning all over again. The scent of blood hangs heavy in the air. Zion goes first, his traps only doing so much to slow the enemy down. Kilimanjaro fares better, mowing down those she can and outliving the more exposed targets. Too many too confined, they shred through her armor like paper. He’s filled with desperation, why did they run only to fall like this? He ducks inside, sending out a spray of bullets into the back of his opponent. Someone covered head to toe in seemingly homemade armor, a mask hooked to something else. They growl. He freezes in fear. It’s them. He’s caught off guard from the side, pain blooms throughout his body as he pulls a vanishing act in desperation. His decoys fall, sure he’s fooled them he drops to the ground, he shivers as mud seeps into his boots. Mind racing, head spinning, he needs to recover fast. Wait. The sounds stopped from above.

Thump Thump Th-

Pain. Pain unlike any other. A sickening squelch is all that reaches his ears as the dagger pierces his heart. He coughs up blood. He can’t feel his body as he falls, lowered to the ground almost gently by his attacker. His killer. It’s them. He reaches out in desperation, hand falling sluggishly onto their mask. The raven croaks, they tilt their head. His vision begins to fade. They reach for his weapon and lay it upon him, taking the hand on their mask and laying it back down. Coward he thinks he hears. No. Brave but no coward. Then a prayer. His vision goes dark.

“I hope to meet you again, Refur.” As he loses all sensation he can’t help but to think, he hopes for the same.

[gamelpar]

It’s All About Fakes (100 sentence prompts fanfic)

Because I suck a writing even short stories or drabbles, I write 100 sentences prompts for the Fake AH Crew instead.

Some of them are inspired by moments in Let’s Play videos, headcanons, social media posts, or just comes straight out of the blue.

Feel free to take inspiration from the prompts or use them.

Prompts are written from a non-shippy perspective, but each prompt can be intercepted in whatever way pleases.

Also my first work, so let’s see how this goes.

Hey, why don’t you read it on AO3 instead?https://archiveofourown.org/works/24787825

1. How the Fake AH Crew got this far is a hell of story, and you can bet it’s one damn worth telling. (Fake it Til’ You Make it)

2. Ray was a sniper; he could spot bullshit a mile away, so how come he ended up in the Fake AH Crew? (On the Spot)

3. Sitting by the wheel of the red minivan Geoff sighed for the 67th time that day, still disbelieving the fact that they were not on their way to carry through a well-planned heist but rather enroute to the beach for some “splashing and slacking”, as Jack had called it. (Sunday Driving - To the Beach)

4. “The Vagabond says: it’s all gonna be murder.” (What the Vagabond Says)

5. Whether it was the Golden Boy or Gavin; Mogar or Michael; they wouldn’t leave each other behind. (Bois Forever)

6. Lindsay---being an absolute goddess as always---supports Jack in her telling for Fiona, and Jack couldn’t have been more grateful. (Women’s League)

7. Matt screws something up; Trevor is there to help him fix it; then Gavin and Alfredo is there to screw it up even more. (Nice Job Breaking It)

8. It’s Bake a Cake Day (according to Gavin) and it’s Gents vs. Lads (insisted by Gavin) and it will also be known as the day when Geoff’s kitchen met its undeniable demise (because of Gavin). (Bake a Cake Day)

9. Long story short: Michael breaks into an animal adoption center for a cat because Lindsay, and Gavin and Ray tags along because why the fuck not. (No Animal Came To Any Harm Except For Gavin)

10. A heavily tattooed man walks into a bar; later, a mad man and a lady in a Hawaii-shirt joins him. (It’s Not a Joke but the Punchline is Fluff)

11. Lindsay and Jeremy have dealt with shit going sideways longer than most people so they know how to make the best of it. (Failure is an Old Friend of Mine)

12. “I hereby announce that the official Prank Wars Week is in session!” (Oh No)

13. The Vagabond might be ready to die, but Ryan knows he’s not. (Ready as I’ll Ever Be)

14. The Lads---and Geoff---gets drunk as hell one night and starts a sock company. (Socks, There’s Socks Everywhere)

15. A boring Fake AH Crew means a dangerous Fake AH Crew and the residents of Los Santos better prepare for chaos. (Boredom Can be a Health Hazard)

16. Ryan gets hiccups and Ray thinks it’s funny until he gets hiccups, too, and soon everyone is stuck with hiccups and everyone blames Ray for some reason. (The Hiccup Disease)

17. When dawn arrives the Fake AH Crew will never be the same again. (Dawn After Battle)

18. Shopping weekends was nothing Lindsay used to do regularly, until Ryan one time decided to come along; then it became a thing. (Stuff We Do Together)

19. Even after leaving the crew, Ray would still have a home to return to. (Home is Wherever You Make it Be)

20. “No---we’re not twins, we’re not brothers, we’re not related in any way, so please for god’s sake, stop asking that.” (Stop the Questions Goddamnit)

21. Jeremy tried to apply more pressure to the wound but as the time on the bomb was running out, so did the blood. (A Mistake You Won’t Live to Learn From)

22. Someone knocks---no, pounds on the door to Ryan’s apartment at 3AM in the morning and Ryan’s still not that happy to being woken up in the middle of the night even if it is Meg waiting behind the door. (Late Night Visitor   or   Expect the Unexpected)

23. “Hey, guys, Fiona here---you’ll never believe this---but I’m stuck in jail and I need one of you to come and bail me out.” (Let’s Bail)

24. Matt is found alone sitting on top of the roof, watching the sunset, but what Geoff finds is someone who needs to talk and so he decides to be that other someone who listens. (Everyone Needs Someone Sometimes)

25. Gavin gets into trouble, which drags Michael and Jeremy into more trouble, and Geoff just wants to have a fucking drink. (Prepare for Trouble)

26. Gavin makes a statement, and Ryan feat. Alfredo makes it a hundred times worse. (Disturbance of Your Own Making)

27. Being welcomed by the sight of a bloodied and battered Gavin through the open door eliminates any tiredness and annoyance Geoff had worked up to having been woken up by a loud pounding on the door at 2AM. (Bloody Brit)

28. That was the way of the Battle Buddies; if one went down, the other had to keep on going, no matter what. (Broken Promise)

29. Nothing lasts forever, and Ray knows that better than anyone. (Never Say Forever)

30. The remaining Gents as well the rest of the Fakes would always be missing a part of themselves from now on. (Parts & Pieces   or   Next Step is to Move On)

31. The alphabet wasn’t enough to cover every brilliant plan the Fake AH Crew had in store, but they never settled for a single letter anyways. (Seven Ridiculous Plans and One That Actually Made Sense)

32. To the Lads, brighter days ahead is just an illusion they can only dream of in the aftermath of a heist gone wrong which claimed the lives of the Gents. (Miserable Lads)

33. It’s a story from being refused of coffee, to wanting to commit suicide briefly, to Trevor having made room for tea-parties with Jeremy, Gavin and Lindsay in his schedule every now and then. (Shut Up and Have Some Tea)

34. Really, it all started when Ray wouldn’t leave Geoff’s house one night. (A Place for Everyone)

35. Usually things doesn’t escalate this far by playing a simple Xbox-game but having ended up in jail, Michael and Matt doesn’t have much of a say about it and Geoff’s pissed. (Hate the Players)

36. Waking up in a dark room tied to a chair with no slightest idea of what the hell’s going on tends to lead to some anxiety-ridden experiences, especially when it is Gavin who finds himself in that situation. (Blackout)

37. No one wants to be the only sober one left to take care of a drunk crew, but with Ray gone Ryan just has to accept that this is his life now. (Trust   or   Sober One)

38. To think it all started that day when Jack saved a drunk man from being robbed in a dark alley. (Mind Your Manners)

39. Neither Lindsay or Michael would force Gavin to put on a brave face after a nightmare; everyone had fears and it was okay to be scared sometimes. (Sharing is Caring)

40. Matt’s life was just another pile of broken pieces until he met Jeremy, and suddenly he had some glue to put the pieces back together. (Glue   or   Glue My Life Back Together)

41. In the temporary apartment Ray was living in at the moment there was a vase by the kitchen window, always holding five red roses. (A Vase Full of Roses)

42. Geoff’s mood could easily be improved a 100 times better with some nice and warm socks. (Can Never Have Enough of Socks)

43. The crew quickly learned that pairing up Ryan and Trevor together would leave a traumatic amount of battered bodies and large pools of blood behind. (Madness In Me)

44. Michael’s life was like a puzzle; bits and pieces all over the place, some fitting, some not, some missing or broken, some didn’t even belong---and Jack standing there in the middle of it all being the only one who seemed to sense some kind of pattern. (Puzzles)

45. The Fake AH Crew weren’t good guys---they never would be---but that didn’t mean they were incapable of doing good, and they were by far the most decent team of criminals that had ever set foot in Los Santos. (Bad Guys Do Good)

46. Tears kept falling, slowly soaking the photo Jack held in her hand of her and the crew---not wanting to forget, yet not wanting to remember. (Remember to Forget)

47. The pink sniper rifle that hung on the wall would always serve as a reminder for the members of the Fake AH Crew that they were not immortal after all. (We Could Be Immortals)

48. Ryan’s an evil mastermind and that frightens Gavin a little, but the Golden Boy reckon it’s time to beat the Vagabond at his own game. (The Reckoning)

49. Kerry Shawcross crosses paths with the infamous Fake AH Crew completely by accident, and all hell breaks loose. (Welcome to Fake Hell)

50. The blood on his hands belonged to someone he knew---someone he cared about---and Ryan had never been more afraid of himself. (There’s Someone There But it’s Not Me)

51. It’s Pride Month and Jeremy really takes it up a notch when coloring his hair this time. (Rainbows)

52. Watching them Lindsay realized that while each of them all had lost so much, they had found even more. (Less is More)

53. Trevor would be better than Geoff ever’d been at scheduling heists and leading the crew, but he still gets to handle all the complaining from the crew so he isn’t as satisfied as he would like to be. (Point of No Return)

54. When the realization strikes him that he’s the only one left remaining, Jeremy falls to his knees in defeat and can’t stop screaming. (What Remains)

55. Fiona can never seem to stop messing with Gavin in any way possible. (A Step Too Far)

56. “Yeah, they’re all idiots---but they’re my idiots, so don’t you fucking dare lay your hand on them.” (A Bunch of Savage Animal Idiots)

57. Times have never been darker for the Gents as each of them struggles to cope with the deaths of the Lads in the aftermath of an coordinated attack. (Falling Inside the Black)

58. The day he met the Wildcard, Michael’s whole world finally started to make some sense. (Wild World)

59. Geoff’s constant drinking worried Gavin sometimes. (Drunk Concern)

60. Matt didn’t believe anyone would care enough for him to consider him family, nor did he believe he would end up in becoming a part of one. (Lost and Found)

61. Alfredo always wondered who Trevor really was underneath his iron suit of armor. (Armor)

62. Even when stuck in a seemingly never-ending coma, Geoff was never alone. (Not Alone)

63. Alfredo joins the Fake AH Crew with more blood on his hands than most people---including himself---would’ve expected. (Red Sea)

64. There’s a perfectly valid reason why Lindsay, despite not being his roommate anymore, is the only one who has a key to Ryan’s apartment. (Key to the Door)

65. Four times Jeremy and Trevor talked their way out of jail and one time they didn’t. (Another Approach to the Problem)

66. Lindsay tried, and that’s why she was still alive, even though everyone else that mattered to her weren’t anymore. (The Fake Among the True)

67. Fiona was her own knight in shining armor and no tower could ever hold her captive for long. (Green Knight)

68. There were days when Jeremy saw a way out, yet the light would always fade at the end of the tunnel, leaving him in the dark. (No Way In, No Way Out)

69. The others would never come back, and Gavin, walking in the wake of that horrifying truth, felt like an empty shell with nothing left to give. (Empty)

70. Trevor would give his life for the crew just like Geoff and Lindsay had. (Third Time Counts)

71. One time for when each of the Fake AH Crew members showed strength and one time when they didn’t. (No Shame)

72. Jack and Geoff shared a special responsibility for every member of the crew, and Michael was no exception. (Nightmare Terrors)

73. ‘Who’s the creepiest motherfucker?’ is a question rather avoided and unanswered. (Creep Contest)

74. All Michael felt now was a burning anger that refused to flicker and fade, and thirst for revenge than could never be quenched. (Road Rage)

75. The last time they all saw each other the city was burning, wounds were bleeding---figuratively and literally---and they never expected to see each other again. (One Last Time)

76. Jack liked to be up in the early, quiet mornings while everyone was still asleep, but she was seriously going to tackle Ryan into bed if she found out he was still awake at 5AM again. (Go the Fuck to Sleep)

77. He’d said he was going to visit, but Ray always pushed the promise further to its limits every time. (Liar Liar)

78. Five times a heist went to hell and one time when it actually didn’t. (Heisting Hell)

79. Not every backstory of the Fake AH Crew’s members is full of shattered dreams and points of no return. (Wanted)

80. Gavin missed home sometimes, but the Golden Boy didn’t. (Two Sides of a Coin)

81. Jeremy’s admiration of monster trucks stretches way back to when he was only a child, walking past a toy store. (Monster Car)

82. “You can leave if you want”, Geoff said, “No one’s going to stop you.” (Freedom)

83. The Vagabond was almost always in control after the Fall of the Fakes, mostly because Ryan let him. (Dead by Daylight)

84. Perhaps the next mishap won’t be so embarrassing for Alfredo, but life didn’t seem to like him much at all. (It’s Life, What Can You Do About It)

85. Four times Geoff said no to either Gavin, Ryan or Lindsay bringing an animal home, and one time he actually said yes. (Animal Addition)

86. So the members of the Fake AH Crew decides to steal their boss’ yacht again and Geoff’s as usual late to the party. (Yacht Party)

87. The crew goes to get some tattoos, and Lindsay is very sure of which one she wants to get. (Tattoos)

88. When Jack falls sick and can’t make her awesome lunch for the whole crew, the crew makes one for her instead (and Jack appreciates it even if it’s a little burned). (Faking the Chef)

89. The day Fiona joined the Fake AH Crew is a day Gavin will very well remember. (Bully)

90. The B-Team is usually there to clean up the messes, except for this time. (Don’t Leave Your Messes Here)

91. The whiskey burned his throat when he guzzled it, and Geoff wished that the liquor could burn away the pain and memories the same. (Burning Bridges)

92. The Fake AH Crew may look like they’re having the time of their lives, but the outside is designed to hide the struggles and issues that lingers underneath. (Inside Out)

93. With the Gents missing, the Lads stuck in a burning building, and the B-team cornered in a firefight, things does not look good. (Already Over)

94. The Fake AH Crew never failed to be impressed by Michael’s colorful vocabulary of swear words. (Words of Color)

95. Jeremy tries to cover up some traces of his past life from the rest of the crew; it does not go the way he wants. (Known to the World)

96. The Ring had been like home, but he wasn’t earning any money being beaten up every round in familiar surroundings, so Michael left---and ended up in Los Santos. (Ring of Fire)

97. The different paths that every member of the crew took for themselves led each of them to end up somewhere they never intended to be, but somewhere they were meant to be. (Pathfinders)

98. It was safe to say that every member of the Fake AH Crew had at least one weird obsession; some had way too many, and some obsessions were just what the fuck. (Obsessions)

99. The Fake AH Crew heists in style, or they do not heist at all. (Do it with Style)

100. The Fake AH Crew is made up of a selected (un)worthy and unique individuals---each one with their own story of whens, ifs, whats, whos, and hows. (Now That We’ve Come So Far)

[holdyourfire]

taylir gar Tracyn

hold your Fire (Mando’a)

Fic rating: General with a couple Mature chapter in the middle

Fic Tags: Poe x OFC, hurt/comfort, angst, massive slow burn, pining, eventual fluff, Mandalorians, enemies to friends to...,

Fic warnings: mild sexual content, panic attacks, minor character death

Chapter 1 Chapter 3

No warnings for this chapter.

***

Chapter 4 - Ember

2.5k words

***

      When Poe caught sight of Snap waiting near his black and orange X-Wing, he dropped his bag and darted to it, running his hands affectionately along its hull.

       “I figured you’d stop by her to say goodbye,” said Snap.

      “I couldn’t not,” mumbled Poe, leaning against his bird, suddenly downcast.

      “Oh, buddy.” 

      Snap stepped in and gathered Poe up in a hug.

      Poe’s eyes began to sting as he felt Snap rub his back, so he pushed his face into Snap’s orange fly-suit.

       They were silent as they continued to the ship. As they approached, Poe picked out Leia, Kaydel and his remaining friends in the distance. 

      BB-8 was already there, looking up at Leia. They seemed to be having a conversation. 

       Deccol parted from Snap and Poe, walking to circle the ship, inspecting it, and Poe drifted over to Leia.

      “Hey, General. Come to wave goodbye to your knight in shining armour?” he teased lightly.

      “You’re not the one in shining armour here, Poe,” she retorted deftly. “Kaydel? Would you brief Poe on the arrangements?”

      “Yes, General. The ship has been stored with a fake ship’s manifest that should be enough to dispel any local suspicion on reasons for landing. It’s also been stripped of any identifying marks and its record has been cleaned off the holonet system. If you run into trouble, it won’t be caused by the ship.” 

       Nice way of saying if anything goes wrong, it was solely their fault.

       The General then handed over the altered holoprojector that she’d had shown them the previous day. 

      Deccol, having finished her inspection, was walking up to join them.

       “You will receive a message including a target or an objective with a location on this. Don’t lose it.” The two commanders nodded, glancing at each other, understanding the importance.

      “Avara, with your history of bounty hunting, I’m sure locating targets won’t be especially hard.”

       He shouldn’t have been surprised. Mandalorians did have a strong reputation in the bounty hunting business.

       “Also,” said Kaydel, “Enough rations are aboard for three weeks. It's an old ship but everything is in working order. Resistance standard-issue blaster rifles have already been placed on board but they’re not exactly conspicuous so I suggest not openly using them everywhere.”

       Obviously. 

       “Yep, noted.”

      “On the topic of being conspicuous, Avara, that sniper rifle of yours. Weapons that atomise are rare and will draw eyes,” Leia cautioned. “If you can alter it to shoot less powerful blaster shots, that may be wise for some missions.”

       Learning that Deccol’s rifle could atomise made Poe shift nervously.

       “Yes, General,” Deccol replied, dipping her head.

      “And one more thing. Come back safe. That's the most important thing to me,” the General stressed, an anxious glint in her eyes.

      “Of course, General.”

      “Good luck.”

       She was worried. That was never a good sign. It took a lot for Leia to get worried.

       “Safe travels,” said Kaydel. “It’ll be weird not having to chase you down because you’ve forgotten something.”

      Poe grinned at her sheepishly, then turned to face his friends.

       Without any words, they all wrapped their arms around him in a big group hug. 

      Someone was sniffling. Karé.

      Then all together, they loosened their arms and let him shuffle away towards the ramp. 

      Deccol walked over to say goodbye to the pilots, gripping their hands and sharing words. Karé, naturally, leaned in for a hug.

       “Bring us presents!” called Jessika as the two partners walked up the ship ramp. 

      Poe grinned and nodded as Karé slapped Jess’ arm. Iolo laughed with Snap, whose arms were around his girlfriend. 

       He still couldn’t believe they’re dating.

       “Commander Deccol?” Leia spoke. “Ret’urcye mhi.”

      Deccol straightened and nodded with a small smile on her face. 

      She turned and walked past Poe, up the lowered ramp. 

      He followed, clenching his jaw as his chest panged unhappily. 

       ***

       Their freighter had two decks, an upper and lower. The lowered ramp they entered the ship through, was directly under the cockpit and led to the lower deck where a second ramp led to the upper. 

       The moment the ramp shut behind them on D’Qar, Poe darted into the crew berth on the right and dropped his bag down, claiming the room as his.

      BB-8 beeped at him before rolling off to explore the rest of the lower deck while Poe clambered up the steeper second ramp to begin takeoff procedures in the cockpit.

       The ship was old. Scratches, scrapes and dents littered the floor and walls.

       He wondered who this ship had belonged to before. They certainly hadn’t taken much care of it.  

       Just as he’d thought it, something on the wall next to the pilot’s chair caught his eye. An inscription had been scratched into the metal surface. He leaned in closer to take a look, brushing his fingers over the scratches. 

       Aurebesh lettering. The Fifth Ember. 

      There was also a circular symbol engraved there too, but Poe didn’t recognise it. It had spikes around it, like a sun.

       There was a thump behind him and he jumped, startled, whipping around to see Deccol lounging in the co-pilot’s chair behind him.

      “You’re quite jumpy,” she drawled, amused. 

      Her boot was against the wall.

       She really kicked the wall just to startle him.

       Poe scowled. 

      “It’s not my fault you’re so quiet.”

      “No, it’s not,” she said, smirking. “But I think I’ll keep it up.”

      Poe just gave her a withering glance. 

       The light of the setting sun through the viewport caught on her armour, setting her alight in a fiery glow, forcing him to squint and look away from the brightness.

       “What were you looking at?”

      “Someone has scratched something in there. It says ‘The Fifth Ember’. The ship’s name maybe?”

       She got up to take a closer look, nudging him aside with her elbow.

      “Do you recognise that symbol?” Poe asked, slipping into the pilot’s chair to start the take-off.

      “You don’t? I’ve seen it before. It’s a crime syndicate,” she replied, looking over at him. “The Black Sun. They used to be a huge issue for the New Republic many years ago, but they’ve disappeared a bit recently. I think they even operated during the time of the Old Republic.”

      “Huh. You reckon it’ll be a problem that we’re using their ship?”

      The Ember lurched upwards and Deccol moved back to the chair on his right and stretched out comfortably.

       “Doubt it. If anything, we’ll be a bit less conspicuous. I think the First Order and the Black Sun were allies at some point. And if so, this would be a familiar ship model to the Order.”

      “That’ll certainly be a help.”

 ***

       They had barely left D’Qar’s atmosphere when the holoprojector began beeping. 

      Deccol, sitting in the co-pilot seat next to him, pulled it out to observe. 

      Poe glanced over.

      “Well?”

      “It’s a human on Naboo, the city of Theed. Luc Shinn. Possible First Order connections.”

      “Ok, let’s go. Beebs? Coordinates for Naboo?” Poe asked his little droid.

      BB-8 beeped methodically and Poe punched in each number into the ship interface.

      He reached up, flicking a couple of switches before leaning in and gripping the largest lever on the dashboard. 

      “Good luck to us. I guess,” he said to Deccol, who just flicked her eyebrows in reply, a gritty glint in her eyes.

       Pushing the lever forward to ease the Ember into hyperspace, they watched as the stars turned to white smears.

       “It’ll be about five hours. If you want to sleep, now is a good time.”

      She turned to look at him with a scoff. 

      “I was sleeping barely six hours ago. I’m not tired. You can go to sleep. I can wake you up in three hours.”

      He rolled his eyes to himself as he turned away.

      “BeeBee-Eight can wake me up, thanks.” 

      The droid whirred, agreeing. 

      “I’m never one to turn down extra rest. See you in three hours, Deccol.”

      “Dameron.”

       ***

       His berth wasn’t very big, but it wasn't as small as it could've been.

      An armchair, a bunk, a wardrobe and a desk. Deccol’s room was right across from his, probably with the same amenities.

      The refresher was just a few paces away, and the ship’s kitchen was right next to their cabins. 

      Poe sighed and sat down on his bunk heavily. 

      This ship was dreary. So grey and dull. 

       He glared at the bag he’d dumped on the floor. 

       Packing and unpacking was just the worst.

      He groaned silently as he dragged himself to his feet to dump the contents of his bag into the wardrobe. 

      A small holoprojector tumbled out and he smiled at the sight of it. Picking it up, he placed it on the small ledge next to his bunk and switched it on. 

      A hologram of his best friends flickered on. 

      Wide smiles, bright faces, all with their arms around each other, wearing their New Republic uniforms. 

      Before they’d joined the Resistance. Before their eyes had been opened. They had been so naive back then.

       Karé, Jess, Iolo, Poe and… and Muran.

       A lump grew in Poe’s throat at the sight of Muran. 

       What would he say if he saw Poe now? 

      Probably something like ‘you deserted the New Republic? What were you thinking!?’  

       Poe could almost hear Muran’s shriek in his head and a grin had begun to spread on his face before it disappeared with another thought. 

      He had been thinking of Muran.

       He kicked off his boots, shrugged off his jacket and slid onto his bed, disappearing into sleep.

       ***

       It was a repeated thumping against his bunk that woke him up.

      “Beebs? How long have I been out?” he moaned, blinking blearily, rolling over to face his astromech. 

      He got a warble from the little ball in reply. 

      “Four and a half? I told you to wake me up in three!” He drew himself up. “Why didn’t you wake me up earlier?”

      BB-8 just hummed as he rolled himself out of Poe’s room.

      “Of course she told you to let me sleep longer,” he snarled out loud, standing up to stretch before grumpily stomping over to the ‘fresher.

      “She would go over my head like that, wouldn’t she-”

      He froze, words cutting off abruptly. 

       Deccol was sitting at the kitchen table. Right outside. 

      Her weird rifle was in pieces in front of her, her hands frozen in some action. She'd obviously heard his outburst. 

       Just his luck.  

       They glared at each other. 

      Deccol’s eyes were glinting dangerously, so Poe decided to silently continue to the refresher, the hairs on the back of his neck prickling.

       She was going to kill him in his sleep, he just knew it.  

       When Poe was done in the ‘fresher, he came out feeling a bit foolish. He ambled to the kitchen pantry, next to the table Deccol was at. 

      She didn’t look up at him, continuing to fiddle with her rifle.

       Unable to bear the silence, Poe forced himself to speak.

       “Have you eaten?” he asked, grabbing a ration bar from the cooler.

      “Yep.”

       More silence. 

       He hesitated, then plonked himself down, directly opposite her, shifting around to get comfortable. 

      She paused in her work, her hands stilling as she drew in a frustrated breath.

      “Do you have to sit there?” she snapped, clearly annoyed.

      “You ever been to Naboo?” he replied, swiftly ignoring her question.

      She looked up at him furiously, but he held her sharp gaze, trying not to look away.

      “Well, have you? I’m not trying to start anything, I’m actually curious,” he said, trying to sound sincere. 

       It must’ve worked because after a few seconds she sighed and continued working on her rifle.

       “No, never been. Heard it’s nice though.”

      “It is. It’s real pretty.”

      Deccol glanced up. 

      “You’ve been?”

      “No, not me. My mother. She was Leia’s- I mean General Organa’s pilot for a mission to Naboo, not long after the Battle of Endor.”

      Deccol raised her head from her work, surprised.

      “Your mother was a Rebel pilot?” She frowned as he nodded. 

      “I don’t know why I’m surprised. Should’ve expected it.”

      “My father was a Rebel fighter too,” he said, trying to contain his pride. “Not a pilot though.”

      She met his gaze, curiously fascinated. “And now you are too.”

      He smiled and began to rip his ration bar packet.

      “Yep,” he quipped, tossing a piece of the tasteless bar into his mouth, then grimacing as he chewed. 

      “Maker, I forgot how shitty these things are.”

      “They’re not too bad. You’re just fussy.”

      “Am not. I just appreciate good food.”

      “Well, on the topic of good food, we Mandalorians have the best.”

      “Nope, Yavin Four has the best cuisine.”

      “Doubt it,” she said disbelievingly. 

      Before he could leap to defend his small moon, she continued.

      “Yavin Four? That’s where you’re from?”

      “Yeah. I was born there.”

      She nodded thoughtfully. 

      “It is a nice moon. Very green. I like green places.”

      “You’ve been to Yavin Four?”

      “I’ve been to a lot of planets,” she answered amicably.

      “What’s your least favourite?”

      “Coruscant,” she muttered, her nose wrinkling slightly in disgust

      He laughed and took another bite of his bar. 

      “Of all the places to hate, you hate the galaxy’s capital?”

      “It’s a terrible place,” she said, suddenly intense. “Dirty, polluted, filled with chakaare - criminals, and the people they exploit. It’s a sad planet.”

      “That’s fair I guess. That word, is it Mandalorian for criminals?”

      “Yeah, sort of. Mando’a is the language.”

      “Can you speak it fluently?”

      She shrugged. 

      “Well enough.”

      She shifted her focus back to her work as Poe finished the last few mouthfuls, still grimacing at its dull taste.

      “BeeBee-Eight,” she said, turning to look at the droid, “do you think there would be any blaster solvent on board?” 

      BB-8 beeped, happy she asked him for help and zoomed off.

       “He’s sweet,” she commented, nodding in the direction the droid had disappeared in.

      Poe smiled proudly to himself as BB-8 spun back in with a container and a dirty looking rag extended in his claw.

       “Thank you, Bee.”

      BB-8 hummed, thrilled.

       He was never gonna tell her that Beebs idolised her.

       “What are you doing with it?” he asked, gesturing at the weapon.

      “The Xciter needed checking, and I reduced its power as the General suggested. But now I’m just cleaning it,” she said, dabbing the rag into the container before rubbing it onto one of the rifle parts.

      “It’s an old weapon and powerful. If it’s not looked after well, it could get risky to use.”

      “Leia said it can atomise? Aren’t weapons like that banned?”

      Some amusement sparked in her eyes as she glanced up at him, confirming his thoughts.

      “It was my father’s. He’d had it for a long time before I came along. One of his favourite weapons.”

      “And he gave it to you?”

      She hesitated, a sly grin slipping onto her face.

      “I took it.”

      Poe huffed, smirking as BB-8 suddenly trilled loudly.

      He nodded and translated for Deccol. 

      “He’s saying we’ll be out of hyperspace in five minutes. I should go up.”

      “Right. I’ll be up soon.”

      He scooted off the bench and strolled up the ramp to the cockpit.

      ***

E/N: 

Mando'a Translations: Ret’urcye mhi - Goodbye (literally means 'Maybe we'll meet again') Chakaar(e) - petty criminal(s)

I’m sorry I haven’t been updating very regularly!! I’ll try to be better :)

Chapter 5 is up!

[red-butler]

Sapphic Sutcliff - Ribbon

This was absolutely the last thing they needed right now! Mey Rin raced down the corridors, glasses pushed up onto her forehead as she scanned the area for the signs of any possible threat. The young Master wasn’t even here! He was down in London with Sebastian, leaving her, Bardroy, Finny and Tanaka to protect the mansion.

They hadn’t been expecting trouble, but Finny had raised the alarm in the garden, always the first to spot trouble and the servants had moved like a well oiled machine, Mey Rin up to the roof where her rifles were, Bard to the main hall to coordinate their attacks, Tanaka to the back area, where he could raise an alarm if they tried to break in there, he could fight, but it exhausted him so Bard tried his best to keep him away from the worst of the fighting, and Finny stayed out in the courtyard area, ready to be their front line of attack. But the men had come from the side unexpectedly and now Mey Rin was racing through the halls to reach her other stash of weapons so she could actually provide effective cover as Bard and Finny converged on the intruders.

She rounded a corner, speeding up as the first gunshots began echoing around the nearby area and slammed straight into another figure. She was moving so fast she nearly bounced backwards and fell over, but the figure grabbed her arm before she could actually fall and she recognised them with a fresh jolt of worry. She’d completely forgotten Grell was here, the butler was supposed to be learning how to be an effective servant, but so far she seemed to be more drifting dreamily after Sebastian and accidently breaking the tea sets. Oh, and kissing Mey Rin with a skill that absolutely took her breath away and was the greatest thing Mey Rin thought she’d ever experienced, but it was probably not an overly useful skill right now.

“Grell!” She exclaimed, righting herself and taking the taller woman’s arm, pulling her along as she restarted her run down the corridor, worry hitting her hard in the chest. Grell was a liability here, she could get hurt! It wasn’t as though she had any experience of the battlefield or death and pain! She could so easily get hurt just from being in the wrong place, she didn’t know what was going on, she didn’t know how to protect herself. The safest place was probably with Mey Rin…away from the direct fighting and where Mey Rin could protect her if she needed to.

Grell let out a gasp, but followed Mey Rin swiftly enough, not asking any questions, seeming to recognise that this situation was serious, and that the maid needed to concentrate as they clattered up the staircase towards the roof where the guns were set out neatly.

And that was the other worry too…the guns. Mey Rin was about to reveal to Grell that she wasn’t just a simple, sweet maid who loved romance novels and her job, but a cold hearted killer who could shoot men from almost a mile away with pin point precision. She just knew that this would break off the wonderful, fantastic relationship that the two of them were building, Grell would be terrified of her, disgusted by her, she’d call her a monster and a killer and want nothing more to do with her. But…she’d be safe here. Mey Rin would sacrifice their relationship to keep Grell alive and safe, she wasn’t that selfish. She would look after the woman she loved.

“Stay here, don’t move.” She said brusquely, pushing Grell down by the doorway, where she wouldn’t be in any danger of a stray bullet catching her. The butler obeyed willingly, eyes wide as she crouched down against the wall and Mey Rin briefly wondered if she should give her a weapon, but the risk of the butler accidently shooting either herself or Mey Rin seemed slightly too likely; so instead Mey Rin forced the terrified looking woman from her thoughts, and the cold sick feeling as she contemplated losing her trust and love and lifted a rifle, sighting down it and seeking out the attackers running through the woods. Her mind slipped into the usual calm she always felt when she focussed like this, there was just her, the gun and the target. She was protecting her home and her Master, she was doing her duty and she would not fail!

The gun cracked in her hands, one of the men falling in a haphazard heap of limbs and Mey Rin moved automatically, snatching up the next rifle, aiming, shooting, not even waiting for the body to fall before she was taking up the next gun and aiming once more.

Time had no meaning while she was like this, there was only the work. But there were just so many of them this time, she knew that there were people getting through her defence, she could hear the smashing of statues as Finny fought, and the screaming as the attackers met Bard and his trusty flamethrower, Tanaka was probably hovering around somewhere, katana and gun in hand, doing his bit to pick off the stragglers, she had to trust they would do their work. She sighted down the rifle, scanning for her next target, and saw Finny busy hefting a statue towards a small group of men making a break for it across the driveway, and the gunman behind him, coldly raising the weapon up to the back of Finny’s unprotected head. Her heart twisted inside her and she swung her gun around, determined to protect the boy she’d thought of as a younger brother ever since she met him.

Even as she swung the gun around to protect Finny though, she heard footsteps on the stairs behind her, and the door crashing open. It seemed as though the men had realised where the covering fire was coming from and had managed to break through the others in order to put a stop to it. Mey Rin knew in that instant she had two choices, she could shoot the man bursting through the door to kill her, or she could kill the man about to shoot Finny. Her or Finny. The choice was obvious. She stayed exactly where she was, finger tightening on the trigger as she prepared to save the young gardener and expecting to feel a bullet ripping into her body any moment.

Her gun barked and jumped in her hands, the threat to Finny falling into a boneless heap and Mey Rin spun around, surprised she wasn’t already dead. There had been time to shoot her, she knew it. She should be dead, why wasn’t she?

Her eyes met a sight she would never, not in a million years, have expected to see. Grell, the hopeless, hapless, clumsy butler who panicked if anyone sent her so much as a disapproving look was standing behind the intruder, eyes as hard and cold as Mey Rin had ever seen them, pose strong and confident. She’d pulled off the ribbon that she wore around her neck, and the red and white striped fabric was wrapped tightly around the man’s neck, throttling him with ruthless efficiency. The ribbon was taut and stretched and the man’s panicked reddening face, bulging eyes and scrabbling hands at his neck spoke as to the skill and strength applied to the makeshift noose. He fell limp and Grell released him, pulling the ribbon back into her hands as she turned back to the door, clearly prepared to defend Mey Rin against any more attackers while she worked. Almost numb with shock Mey Rin turned back to her own defences, the manor was still under attack, there would be an opportunity to reel and process what she’d just seen later, right now she needed to focus.

But her mind almost seemed stuck on the same image, Grell’s long hands, capable and sure as they throttled a man to protect her, the timid, helpless young butler, transforming into a cold, ruthless attacker in a heartbeat. The unexpected power and grace as she’d moved to protect her. Mey Rin spared a glance at the fallen body. He wasn’t dead, she hadn’t killed him, but he would undoubtedly be out of commission for a while, judging by the deep bruising around his neck. Her gun cracked again, figures falling to the ground, but Mey Rin almost wasn’t paying attention; who knew that Grell had that in her and…her stomach swooped a little, how could it possibly have looked so attractive? The sight of Grell, an implacable queen of death standing above the body of her attacker, it shouldn’t be making Mey Rin feel flushed and hot and bothered, right? So why was her heartbeat thudding loudly in her ears, and her stomach filled with butterflies every time she pictured how bright and determined Grell’s eyes had been, the tautness of her body as she’d leaned back, cutting off the attacker’s air supply, the sharp smile as he’d fallen to the floor and Grell had regained her unusual weapon and immediately turned to continue her defence…Mey Rin swallowed and forced her mind back to her sniper’s position.

The attackers gave up soon after and all that was left was the clean up, Bard staring ruefully at the crater’s he’d blown in the driveway while Finny began dragging bodies into the woods to dig another mass grave, Tanaka sorting out food while Mey Rin restocked the weapons supplies and searched the manor for anyone who might have concealed themselves there during the fight. As she mounted the staircase again with her apron pocket full of bullets to begin reloading all of her rifles again, she noticed a familiar striped ribbon abandoned on the floor. She lifted it, tucking it away in her sleeve and, once she’d finished reloading and checking all her guns, she set off to find her lover. She needed to thank her after all anyway, she could return the ribbon at the same time.

She found Grell busy sweeping up some broken glass, watching something out the window with a strange expression on her face. Mey Rin looked too, but she couldn’t see anything there, just a few of the dead bodies lying in neat rows. Surely Grell wasn’t put off by those was she? Not after she’d helped put one there, even if she hadn’t killed him; Mey Rin had once the fighting was over, they couldn’t allow a single escaping survivor to take the secrets of Phantomhive manor away so that others could use them against the household.

“Grell?”

“Oh! Mey Rin!” Grell turned and gave her a slightly wobbly smile and Mey Rin re-evaluated her previous thoughts, perhaps she was bothered by it, after all, fighting in the heat of the moment to protect someone you cared about was one thing, living with it afterwards was another. So instead of gushing about how amazingly well Grell had done, and how impressed  she was with it, Mey Rin simply stepped across the space separating them and pulled Grell into a hug, trying to be as reassuring and warm as she possibly could. After a heartbeat’s hesitation, Grell hugged her back, tight and fierce and perfect.

“I got you Grell…you’re safe now.”

“It wasn’t my safety I was worried about.” Grell admitted, and Mey Rin felt a rush of warm happiness, it always took her off guard when Grell revealed how much she valued her, that Mey Rin was important to her.

“We’re all safe. You protected me. Thank you.” She said simply.

“I would always protect you.”

“Oh!” Mey Rin said, blushing even more deeply and burying her face in Grell’s chest, how could the other manage to be so sweet and lovely all the time, it was a crime, it really was! “I…brought your ribbon back?” She said, pulling back a little and holding up the strip of fabric. Now that she looked at it though, she could see where the material had been stretched and creased, a slight bloodstain on one corner. Grell frowned at it, before giving a rueful smile.

“I think it’s rather ruined now, but it fell to a good cause…I’ve got another in my things, but thank you Mey Rin.” She said, just as the sound of the carriage pulling up warned them that Sebastian and Ciel were returning and they both turned away, Grell to continue tidying, Mey Rin to the front to greet the Master and Sebastian and help explain what had happened this time. As she hurried across the hallways though she tucked the ribbon back into her pocket, if Grell didn’t want it, then she certainly did, to remind her of the time Grell had transformed into a beautiful deadly fighter just to save Mey Rin.

[bus-stop-to-kpop]

Your New Padawan (Part 1) (Oh Sehun x Reader)

Pairing: Jedi!Sehun x Reader

Genre: Science Fiction, Star Wars!AU

Summary: Your life changes when three Jedi Knights save you from death

Word Count: 2,798

A/N: Hey, it’s me, Admin A, and I’m back with a new fanfiction. I decided to make at least two parts of this fanfiction, because it would have been too long I thought, so stay tuned for updates ^^ This story takes place around the Clone Wars, I don’t know if you need much Star Wars knowledge to read this, but I think it should also work well without. Have fun!

~ Admin A

You’ve been living on Mandalore since you’ve been a child. And you had never left the planet in your whole life. Your daily schedule always looks the same: waking up, helping your parents on the farm and going to bed. The days come and go, it’s always the same and it’s boring.

Your parents hope that one day you will take over the farm and keep the family business going. But you don’t feel like it’s what you’re meant to do, meant to be. Something is always missing. If you would just know what it is…

~*~

Jedi Knight Oh Sehun and Jedi Master Kim Jongin are currently on Mandalore’s moon Concordia, searching for the hideouts of the Death Watch in the abandoned mines. They have been trying to track down the group of former Mandalorian warriors for a few days now. But there is no sign of them, they seem to have just disappeared.

“Master, we just got an emergency call from Mandalore. The Death Watch are out there, destroying defenseless villages and farms.” Master Kim’s Padawan Do Kyungsoo runs up to them, sharing the news he just received from his position in their space ship.

“We have to be quick, let’s go! Do you have the coordinates, Kyungsoo?” Master Kim asks his Padawan, who answers with a nod and all three of them run back to the ship.

~*~

You are currently out on the fields when you hear shots and screaming from the village. The Death Watch has arrived. Everyone knows them and fears them, the group of former Mandalorian warriors who are now spreading death and fear, trying to take over Mandalore.

At first you try to hide in the fields, afraid what might happen to you if the Death Watch would find you. But then you remember: your parents. They are still at the farm.

You don’t care about hiding anymore and run towards your home. What you don’t see are, that two of the Death Watch see you and follow you.

“Watch out!” A stranger suddenly shouts and pulls you away when one of the two Death Watch members fires a shot.

The stranger takes out a lightsaber and attacks them, two more strangers with a lightsaber join him a few seconds later.

But that’s impossible, you think. Only a Jedi owns such a weapon and what would three Jedi do in the Outer Rim Territories? No one ever comes to this planet.

The two who attacked you are soon struck down by the three Jedi. One of them comes up to you, he is one of them who joined your savior earlier.

“Are you okay? Or are you hurt?” he asks concerned and you shake your head. You aren’t hurt, only shocked.

“I’m okay, thank you for saving me. But there are more of them in the village, I think they need your help more than I do for now.” You answer him.

“We are on our way. Kyungsoo, can you accompany our new friend home to assure that she is save? Sehun and I can manage them alone for now.”

“Yes, Master Kim” the smallest of the three says and joins you on your way home.

You want to turn back and thank your savior, but you see that he and the other one already left, so you and the small Jedi keep on walking.

“Can I ask you some questions?” you ask curiously. Even though you almost died a few moments ago you are longing to know what three Jedi Knights are doing on this abandoned side of the galaxy.

“Sure” he answers shortly.

“Okay first: What is your name and are you a Jedi?”

“My name is Do Kyungsoo and I’m not yet a Jedi. I’m a Padawan, Jedi Master Kim Jongin trains me. He was the one who talked to you a few moments ago. And the other one is Jedi Knight Oh Sehun.” Kyungsoo tells you without hesitation. It’s nice to see how much trust he is already showing you even though you just met.

“Oh no, I haven’t introduced myself yet. My name is Y/N and I live with my parents outside of the village at a farm.” You say, recognizing your mistake.

“That’s okay, you still must be a bit shocked from the attack.” Kyungsoo smiles.

“And what exactly are you doing here? Mandalore usually doesn’t host many Jedi” you laugh awkwardly.

“Actually we are here to hunt down the Death Watch. We got an emergency call from the village and we came”

“Oh, that’s actually very nice of you that you came.” You say.

“We are hunting the Death Watch and protecting the victims, it was obvious that we would help” Kyungsoo says with a raised eyebrow.

“Okay, that was kind of stupid of me. But the Death Watch hasn’t been there since yesterday. They’ve been performing attacks like this over the whole planet for months and years. It was only a matter of time until they would come here.” You state, with a silent question in the air. Why not sooner?

“To be honest, no one knew about the attacks until a few days. The government did their best to hide it and your planet isn’t exactly close to any other planets of the republic. About a week ago someone from the planet arrived and told us about how his village was destroyed. The Jedi High Council then sent us to help.” Kyungsoo explains patiently to you.

“Our government really is crap. Sorry for my choice of words. But again, thank you.”

“As I said, it was only natural for us to help. Wait, something is wrong. Run, Y/N!” Kyungsoo activates his lightsaber and turns around to see that another member of the Death Watch just fired a shot from his blaster pistol.

You raise your hands over your head as a weak sign of defense, close your eyes and wait for it to hit you. You know that it’s hopeless, a sniper like him would never miss his target.

But the pain never comes. Slowly, you start to open your eyes again. You can’t believe what you see. The shot which was fired from the blaster pistol seems to be frozen in the air right before you.

You fall down stumble backwards, looking over to Kyungsoo, who is taking down your attacker.

The Padawan turns around when he’s finished and it seems like his eyes are about to fall out when he sees the shot.

“Is this you?” you ask him with similarly wide eyes and he shakes his head.

“Y/N, this is you. You are strong with the Force. You are qualified to be a Jedi.”

~*~

“Breathe Kyungsoo, breathe. Now tell me again, what happened?” Master Kim asks his apprentice.

“A member of the Death Watch attacked us and Y/N blocked his shot. It simply froze in the air and later it hit a tree after Y/N was safe” Kyungsoo explains, struggling to speak slowly.

“I also thought that there was something special about Y/N. We can say more after a midichlorian test.” Sehun throws in. That’s the first time you hear him speak, actually. It’s a nice voice, you think.

You are sitting in your house with your parents, the three Jedi just arrived.

“Listen, Y/N. There is a chance that we can take you with us and train you to become a Jedi if you want to. But first, we need to take a bit of your blood to test it. Is this okay?” Master Kim asks you.

The only answer you give is a nod and you uncover your arm for them to take a sample of your blood. Sehun walk towards you and kneels down, he takes out a little device and lays it gently on your arm.

The little sting almost goes unnoticed by you, because you are too busy to calm down your heart rate as Sehun holds your arm in place.

You have known the man for a few hours and you are already falling for him. It’s hopeless with you, he spoke one time, and not even to you, and you are whipped for him. His sharp eyebrows and jawline, even his resting bitch face make your heart flutter.

“Everything alright? We will send the sample to the Jedi Temple on Coruscant and they will send us the results soon.”

That’s it. He just spoke to you. You are going to scream, you think. But instead of screaming, you answer with a hoarse voice “Yes, it’s okay, you can go send it”

The Jedi Knight leaves the room to call the Temple, the other two Jedi sit down across you and your parents.

“Mr. and Mrs. Y/L/N, I know this must be very confusing for you. Your child, Y/N, seems to be strong with the Force and we want to give her the opportunity to be trained as one. Usually training starts at a very young age, but there are always exceptions. We understand it, if you want to think about it and discuss it with your child. This isn’t a decision you can make without thinking about it.” Master Kim explains to your parents.

“We would never prevent our child from being happy. And it is indeed a rare opportunity. If this is your dream, what you really want to do, we won’t have anything getting in your way. Of course we will miss you so much, but we will manage. We love you and want you to be the best person you can be.” Your mom says, with tears in her eyes.

“But mom, dad, don’t you need me here? Who will help you if I’m not around?” you stutter, close to crying, too.

“It’s fine, Y/N, we can hire someone. We will manage, as your mother said. We will miss you, but it would make us so happy and proud to know that you did better than us. That you managed to get out of this village, this planet. Go and make us proud, Y/N” your father says and hugs you.

Now the tears start to fall. You hold your father tight and let your mother join the hug.

“Sorry to interrupt, but I managed to inform the Jedi High Council. We can take Y/N with us, they will find a Master to train her.” Sehun suddenly entered the room again.

Slowly you unclasp your tight grip on your parents and turn around.

“Okay, I will go and pack my things. Mom, Dad, I love you so much. I will never forget you and what you did for me. But I always knew that something was missing, something was not right here. Now I know my destiny and I already feel so much better. I will go and make you proud.” You say and leave the room to pack your necessities.

A few minutes later you come in again and give your parents a last hug which seems to last for ages. At least you want it to last for ages, but it will never be enough to show your love and appreciation for your parents.

“Goodbye. I will make you proud, Mom and Dad.”

~*~

You and Sehun are sitting in the space ship to Coruscant. Master Kim and Kyungsoo decided to stay on Mandalore to finish their mission to track down the Death Watch and the Jedi High Council already sent new Jedi as support.

Sehun is flying the ship together with a cute droid, a R4-series droid he called “Vivi”. You are sitting next to him, feeling both too shy and awkward to start a conversation.

What are topics you can talk about with a Jedi? Hey, how is the Force doing? Still strong?

No, that’s definitely not something you want to say to Sehun.

“Relax, I’m not going to kidnap you” You almost jump when Sehun suddenly speaks up.

“I- I didn’t think that you would kidnap me” you say with a nervous laughter as you feel your cheeks heating up.

“To be honest, you looked like something scared the shit out of you. Are you sure that you’re okay?” Sehun asks with raised eyebrows.

Dammit, how can someone be this hot?

“Um yeah, I’m okay, don’t worry. Only a bit nervous” you try to not chew on your bottom lip from anxiousness.

What will it be, training to become a Jedi? Will the other Jedi like me? Will I find friends? How will my Master be like?

So many questions and no answers within the next hours….

~*~

“Sehun! It’s so good to see you again! How are you? Oh, is this the new potential Padawan?” an excited, young and tall man calls as he sees Sehun.

“Hey Chanyeol, it’s good to see you, too. I’m fine, only tired from the journey. This is Y/N, I will bring her to the Jedi High Council and we can talk afterwards.” Sehun says with a smile.

The smile suits him so well, way better than his resting bitch face (which already is beautiful), you think.

And that is also the first time you hear him say so many sentences at once.

“Hey Y/N, nice to meet you. I’m Chanyeol, also a Jedi Knight like Sehun is.” The tall Jedi shoots you a smile.

His smile must be contagious, you find yourself smiling back after merely a second. This man doesn’t seem to be able to be unhappy and that is something fascinating.

“I really love talking to you, you know, but now I need to bring Y/N to the Council. See you later” Sehun apologizes and mentions you to follow him.

And who are you to deny him, being in a strange and new building on your own isn’t something you want to experience just now.

It’s not much later that you arrive at the council room. There are many new faces, some are smiling encouragingly when others seem to be deep into their thoughts.

“Welcome back, Sehun. I hope your journey wasn’t too exhausting?” A man with a kind face says as he stands up from his seat in the middle.

“Master Suho, thank you for responding to our message so fast. The journey was okay, I guess. No major problems on the route.” Sehun answers as he bows before the man called Suho.

You quickly join Sehun with the bow, not exactly sure what else to do.

“You must be Y/N. Do you mind going with Master Xiumin so that he can test you again?” Suho asks with a small smile and points to a slightly small Jedi Master with a cute face.

The only thing you can think of doing now is to nod and follow the Jedi out of the room.

“And could you Sehun please stay here? We have to talk to you for a second” is the last thing you hear before the door closes again.

~*~

“Congratulations, Y/N. We will let you start your training as a Padawan to become a Jedi. Your new Master will be introduced to you soon” the Jedi Master who tested you, Master Xiumin, tells you and shakes your hand with a proud smile.

It feels like a weight just got lift off your shoulders. “Thank you so much, Master. I feel so honored, I won’t disappoint the High Jedi Council.”

“I know you won’t, you are more than qualified to be a Jedi and we all will watch your training with interest. But now, let’s go back to the Council so that they can tell you who will train you in the future. Usually, you start to train as a child in a group and later get your own Master, but I don’t think this will be necessary now. You don’t seem like you want to train with our eight-year-olds.” Xiumin explains with a small laugh.

He guides you back to the room, where the Jedi High Council is waiting for you.

Everyone seems to be so kind and positive here, it almost overwhelms you. Back in your village, there had always been a depressed and hurried mood. The whole village was afraid that one day they won’t be alive anymore, killed by the Death Watch.

Now, everything seems so surreal, children playing instead of hiding and adults having a casual talk on their way to a meeting.

You arrive at the room and greet the Jedi Masters, as well as Sehun, with a bow.

“Master Xiumin, which decision did you make for the council? Is Y/N qualified for the Jedi training?” Master Suho asks.

“Yes, I find Y/N qualified for the Jedi training. She will be a good Padawan, I think.” Xiumin replies.

“Then it’s decided. Y/N, you will be trained to be a Jedi and your Master will be Oh Sehun.”

[wesker20]

Fallen Hero 1.5 Episode 15 Revenge: Collision Course

Episode 14 Revenge: The Voice

Night – Rooftop of abandoned building.

           After one month, you are once again about to face off against Zeta. And this time you’ll have the Rangers at your side. Or at the least more interested in taking Zeta down than in you.

Getting a bad sense of Déjà vu.

           You lost count of how many times the rangers came to your rescue or you to theirs in the past. Or when they came to help you out when you were in trouble with a particular villain. And vice versa. Now here you are again, in the same situation, heading in a collision course with a rival and them coming to help you out. You are glad to have a mask to cover your smirk.

           “They are here,” Pelayo announces. You look down to see Steel and Argent. No sign of either Herald or Ortega.

           “Any sign of the other two?” you ask.

           Pelayo shakes his head. “Negative, sir.”

           You gruff. You can’t sense Herald anywhere. Which means he is not here. But Ortega? That’s another story. You can’t read her nor track her. She is perfectly blocked from you. You turn to your crew. “I’ll jump down and talk to them. You stay here and watch out for any activity. If you see something, let me know. If you see me being attacked, prepare cover fire.” All four nod and Pelayo begins relaying orders, putting Zaza on sniper position, Ward on the rear, and Nehal right beside him, covering you.

           You jump down, shooting your jets to slow down the fall and land right in front of them.

           “The Marshal and the wild car. Has anyone ever told you you make a cute couple,” you begin, covering most of your body with your cape.

           “Say that again and I’m going to eviscerate you,” Argent groans, showing her clawed fingers but not elongating them.

           “And who would you have left to entertain you?”

           “Point taken.”

           You turn to Steel. He’s glaring, but also observing, as if trying to piece together something. Maybe you. Maybe your suit. Better pull him out of his sightseeing before he finds something to use against you. “What’s the matter? Still grumpy about the affair with Marconi?” He only glares more. “If it’s any consolation, he is still alive.”

           “That’s not what we are here for.”

           “Indeed. Where’s the other two?”

           “Not cleared for active duty yet. Thanks to you,” Argent spits.

           “That’s too bad. Could have used the flying boy as a cannon ball.” You turn, looking at a building in the distance. Not the same building, but close to the area where it was. The building where everything changed. Where you changed. “The Voice is inside that building. Recruiting.” You don’t even have to turn to know that Steel tensed up a bit. Not enough for Argent to notice, but enough for you. Mostly because you were already expecting it. You tensed when you saw the location too. Seven years ago, that building, and this entire area were caught in the radius.

           Heartbreak.

           You glare. Zeta could not have chosen this place by accident, it must have been planned. Another structure connected to your past, like Bloodmoon. Which means one of two things: either he is more obsessed with you and your life than you first thought, or he is expecting you. Expecting an attack. Never make the same mistake twice. First thing you taught him in your sparring matches.

           “Everyone, come down,” you order through your mic. In a coordinated move your crew swings down the building using cables and grappling hooks. Pelayo stands beside you, Ward next to him, and Nehal and Zaza right behind you. You turn back to Steel. “We are ready.”

           Minutes later – outside apartment building.

           Steel checks another corner. “Clear.” You’ve let him give the orders. Steel is a military man and has a lot of experience. Even when you two did not get along, you could always trust him as a leader. So you made the choice to let him lead. For now. Once you were in the building, however, you have to get to Zeta first. In fact neither Steel nor Argent can get to Zeta at all. If they do, who knows what Zeta will do. Or say.

           Pelayo and Ward accepted the arrangement rather quickly and in fact you find them working very well with Steel. Nehal and Zaza though, they are a bit more hesitant, and always look at you first before obeying an order from him. Not that you blame them. Or disapprove. The last thing you want them to do is forget who is in charge.

           You stare in awe at the building. Not because it is impressing, but because you can feel the multitude of minds inside. At least thirty in the third floor. Nothing major. Nothing You or Steel or Argent have not dealt with before.

           Argent turns to you. “Make sure not to run away this time.”

           You chuckle. “I make no promises. The second the party starts, it’s the second The Voice learns that we are here.” You turn to her. “And I’m not about to let them escape again.”

           Argent eyes you for a moment, as if she now understands something about you. She turns back to the building. “As long as you don’t turn it into another massacre.”

           “An accident. One I do not intend to repeat.” You turn back to the building. You reach out with your mind again, letting it flow.

           There’s twenty more in the fourth floor. Theses ones feel a bit more different. Their thoughts betray a sense of confidence, security. One mind in particular has more confidence than anybody else’s. And an ego the size of a continent if you may say so yourself. That floor might be a bit of a problem. These kind of confident mind sets tend to reside on mods. Even Ward has them to a certain extent.

           “Find anything?” You turn to Steel.

           “What do you mean?”

           “You are using your telepathy to scan the building. I can tell.”

           You chuckle and turn back to the building. “Have experience working with a telepath Marshal?” at that you notice a swerve of emotion. From both Steel and Argent. Seems neither of them wanted Mastermind to realize that. Glad to know they care about you. Somewhat. They may just care more about what Ortega will do if anything happens to you.

           Again.

           You shake those thoughts away from the moment. Now is not the time for that sort of thing. “Thirty on the third floor. Most of them normal goons. Some may be modded but nothing heavy. The fourth floor on the other hand.” You tilt your head a bit. “Well, there’s ten less. But I’m pretty sure most of them are either modded. Or boosted. Or both. And the fifth floor is blocked. I dare say that’s where the Voice is.”

           Argent chuckles and grins. “At least it will be fun.”

           “That it will.” You turn to your crew. “Take the team inside. Quietly. Take out as many as you can on the way. Again, quietly. I don’t want to listen anything until I start it.” All of them nod and move into the building. “Ready Marshall?”

           “After you.”

           You chuckle a bit. “Of course.”

           Inside – Third floor

           You are going to have to raise your crew’s salary after this. Out of the thirty goons inside, fifteen are down. All done in silence. “Pelayo, remind me to throw a party for you guys when we are back,” you say through your mic.

           “Can’t afford to disappoint, sir. Just imagine what it would do to our reputation.”

           You hold back a chuckle and relay the information to Steel. “Give me a minute I can shut down six of them.” Steel stares at you with a look that has him dreading what that means. “Relax, I’m not killing them. Just sending them to sleep for a couple of hours.” He looks no more assured than he was before.

           You reach out, an ocean filled with small minds. Incapable of understanding. Of grasping what yours is. The Rat King squeals, both of your minds working in tandem. Like a snake you slither into each and every mind, leaving a small print, something that will react to a simple signal. A blast. A telepathic blast to be precise. Weak telepathic blasts like this will stun an opponent for several seconds. But by leaving these prints, you weaken their minds further. So much that a weak blast will knock them out. Why use portion of your power when you can weaken them and knock them out with virtually no effort.

           You can end them. Here and now. Those little minds are nothing but cattle. Made to be killed. Get them, grab them by the throat. Send their minds into disarray. Make them wish for that simple release. That release that will end all of their problems. Make them leave. Make them gone.

           The Rat King wraps itself around your mind and you wake up. You drifted off, your mind wandered into something else. But what? That voice, it was Jane’s. Or not. It was the Jane specter that’s been bothering you ever since your first fight with Zeta. But you don’t hear her now. You hear nothing else but the worried squeals of your partner. You assure the Rat King you are fine and continue, leaving the final print of your mind on the goons.

           You crack your neck as if waking up. “Alright. At my signal, six will go down, you take care of the rest.”

           “And you?” Argent questions.

           “I’ll say hello to the other guys upstairs. See if I can get them to leave.”

           “And if you don’t?” Steel bust in.

           “Then the party will begin.” You prepare now, focusing your mind, the blast building up until…

           “Now!” Steel and Argent bust into the room. You feel the six minds shutting down, left to dream for some time. Well not dreaming. Just out cold. Anyway, time to move. You rush through the stairs as the sounds of fighting echo. Most of the screams and grunts coming from people other than Argent and Steel, in fact, you don’t think there’s any grunts coming from them at all. Guess that’s what happens when you bring in two tanks to fight a bunch of weaklings.

           The walk to the room filled with twenty goons is much more uncomfortable. You can feel variety of minds in there, not all of them easy to sneak in and shut down. But you try all the same. Better to shut down a couple of them and fight the rest than fight all of them. They all seem to be suspecting that something is going on but are not alerted yet. Good. Worry makes them more open, pliable to your powers. You take a deep breath and step in.

           “Ladies and gentlemen. I am Mastermind. A pleasure to meet all of you.” you bow in an exaggerated manner as they all step back. As you expected many of them are heavily modded. Mechanical arms, legs, eyes, shoulder cannons, you name it. Not all of them military grade but they probably still pack a punch. Others do not seem to be modded. But they could be boosted. That said the majority are modded and only a few seem to be either boosted or have something up their sleeves.

           You wondered earlier why Zeta ordered them in such a manner. The non-boosted and non-modded in the third floor and these guys on the fourth. It seems his priority is to recruit boosts and mods over normal folk. So the unmodded here, if not boosted, must be pretty important.

           “In case you don’t know yet. I’m here for the Voice. So step aside and let me get to them.” Some of them obey but others stand their ground. “Unless you want me to do to you what I did to his previous army.”

           “Really?” a gravy voice echoes in the room. Next thing you know the ground shakes lightly under you as a giant figure makes way towards you. Eight? Probably nine feet tall? Maybe bigger? You don’t know because right now what has your attention is the… mods? Suit? Seriously you can’t tell. It looks like a suit but then again the guy has tubes and gears puncturing into his neck. Whatever they are those are definitely military grade.

           “Who are you? Cheap Psychopathor knock off?” you joke, trying to keep your cool and not show how lost you are on how to deal with this guy.

           “Hah you compare me to that loser? Give me a break.” So this is the guy with the planet size ego you felt earlier. “I am Boxer, The Unstoppable!” He clashes his metal fists. You can feel everyone else’s confidence growing.

           “The unstoppable, huh? Yeah I can think of one person who that title would fit a lot better.” You tilt your head. “And I fight her pretty much regularly by this point.”

           “Indeed. That is why I am Lady Argent’s biggest rival. I am her nemesis.” You hold your breath at this, otherwise you would burst out laughing and never stop. Ever.

           “I’m sorry I was under the impression that was me.”

           “You,” he says with a mixture of disbelieve and mockery. “A little thing like you?” and he burst out laughing.

           “Has anyone ever told you it’s not the size, but what you do with it?” Why don’t you let me show you?”

           He stops laughing. “What do you think I am?”

           “Someone with more brawns than brain, that’s for sure.”

           He glares. “Are you calling me an idiot?”

           “My point exactly.” You feel the thought before he moves. So you prepare and dodge the incoming attack. The punch breaks through the ground. “Nice blow. Here’s a cookie.” You extend your hand. He roars and charges at you but shoot your jets and fly over him. He bursts through the wall and leaves you with the rest of the goons. “Any takers?” Some prepare and others charge. You shoot a telepathic blast that stuns most of them and knocks out the ones you prepared earlier.

           You let an electric bomb fall to the ground and shoot your jets again, taking to the air as the first row of goons fall down unconscious. “Anybody els-” you don’t get to finish as you feel a hand wrap around your foot and slam you on the ground.

“Now you’ll see who’s the idiot,” Boxer yells as he shoots a punch. You roll to the side, the punch landing right next to you and leaving a hole where your head used to be. You shoot your jets again and fly from under him.

“Ok time out big guy.”

“NO TIME OUT!” He charges and you barely have time to dodge. What he lacks in brains he definitely more than makes up for it in stubbornness and how dangerous that can be. You have to think. But you don’t get the time as an explosion pushes you to the ground and the crowd swarms you. You are still strong enough to shrugs off some of them but too many of them, all of them with different mods. Some slash you, others punch you, and others try to electrocute you. They may not all be that powerful but they distract you long enough that you don’t even process the fact that Boxer is right in front of you, grinning. He punches you and sends you flying to the other side of the room.

Ok, maybe coming alone here was not such a good idea. You thought you could scare them away with what you did at Bloodmoon. You did not expected to find an idiot with a planet size ego and not have him not being afraid of you, which in turn inspires other not to be afraid. You have to think, fast. An escape route, something that will get you away from this idiot. Wait, the ground. You can use the nanovores to make a hole and land on the floor below. It would hinder your pursuit for a bit, but you have not felt any activity up. Once again, it probably means that Zeta is expecting you. Great. Another thing to worry about.

As Boxer closes in you prepare, putting your palm on the floor below and trusting the Rat King to guide them. The nanovores get to work, and you feel the floor beneath you giving away. Immediately you call them back to your glove. The floor gives away and you fall, landing on your back. Not the most graceful of landings but whatever. You find yourself staring at Steel’s and Argent’s bewildered faces. “Oh hi there. How’s your day? Mine’s being pathetic.”

“What happened?” Steel asks.

“Big guy. Modded to hell. Shit for brain. Gotta give him credit though, guy has a mean right.”

Argent stares in disbelief. “Please tell me you don’t mean-” she does not get to finish as the ceiling breaks down. “Boxer,” she says with an exasperated sigh.

“Argent! Finally. I’m ready for our rematch! This time I’m much stronger than before. I have modified my mods lift heavier objects, hit harder, and tonight will be the night when I finally beat yo-” he flies off and clashes against a wall. Argent stands where he was, arm extended, fist closed.

“So you two do know each other.”

“Unfortunately.”

“And here I thought I was the only one.” You stand up, finally.

“Aahhh, don’t worry. You’re the only one that matters.” She gives you a teasing smile.

“So, anything you can tell me about this guy?”

“Highly armored and strong. He used to be a soldier before he stole several mods and went rogue,” Steel reports.

“So those are military grade mods.”

“For whatever good they do to him,” Argent says, cracking her knuckles. “He also has knack for escaping. This is the… I don’t know, fifth time he escapes?” She looks at Steel. He nods and readies his weapons as the other mods jump through the hole in the ceiling Boxer just made. The three of you jump into it. Argent handles the brunt of them, taking and slashing anyone dumb enough to stand in front of her. Steel uses his weapons to disable and knock out anyone that slips past her. And you handle the stragglers that are left after all of it is done. In less time than you expected most of them are either injured or out cold.

“That was easy,” Argent remarks. You and Steel look at one another. Why did she have to say that? Suddenly, Steel takes a missile. The explosion sends him back, separating him from the two of you.

“I told you. I upgraded my mods. Now I can take anything you throw at me.”

“Does he have an off switch?” you ask her.

“I’ll let you know when I find it.”

You groan. This guy was becoming more trouble than he was worth. End him. You can do it. Just let go. You are much stronger. Argent’s yell brings you back to reality.

“Hey! What are you, sleeping?” You shake your head. “Good. Then help me with this idiot.”

“I didn’t thought you required help.”

She laughs. “I don’t. But he’s boring. With you I can beat him faster. The faster I beat him the less I have to hear him speak.”

“Understood,” you pause. “My Lady.” She groans.

“Hah, need help from your little friend now? Hah I knew it. You can’t beat me. I am the biggest thing you have ever faced. There is not a single thing you can do to stop me now.”

“Shut up and fight already shit for brains!” you both yell. Instantly he charges. You both dodge to either side. He stops and turns back to Argent. He shoots a fist, but Argent dodges it with grace. She slashes his suit a bit, but nothing major.

“Hah! Even your claws can’t get me!” He’s wrong. Argent could have gone in much deeper than that. So why didn’t she?

“Seriously, are you in love with your own voice or something?” you ask.

He turns to you. “What!”

“I asked if you are in love with your own voice. Because you speak more than a preacher on Sundays.” You glue your hand to a column left of you, without his notice.

“I wouldn’t have to if your tiny brains recognized my superiority.” He smiles.

“Right, right. Is it because you are stupid?” that sets him faster than you thought. This guy has some anger issues to work through. He charges you and you step out of the way as the column disintegrates and the ceiling falls on him. That does not stop him and he powers through the debris. He tries to punch you but you shoot your jets just in time. Just then you see Argent’s silver form right behind him and she slashes. Again a superficial strike as far as you can tell. Was his armor really too much for her? That’s impossible. He turns fast, hitting Argent in the face and sending her flying.

You shoot your jets at max power, turn midflight, and land a kick straight into his exposed face. Even burning it with your jet. He screams and stumbles back, covering his face. Once again Argent appears almost out of nowhere and slashes again. Another superficial strike. Or so you thought.

In an instant you hear Boxer’s armor powering down, the lights on his chest and back turn off, and he falls on his knees. You land, wondering what just happened.

“What?” Boxer and you say at the same time.

“Same thing I always do when fighting him. Cut off the tubes leading up to his power source.” She smirks at you.

“How! I changed it. I made sure they were hidden. How did you know where they were!? How!” He yells. Argent punches him out cold.

“Finally, some peace and quiet.” You say. But he was right. How did she saw it? You didn’t saw anything. It’s that vision of hers. The way she can just see the insides of technology. She can probably see the weaknesses of your suit too. A worry for another time. Right now, Zeta is the priority. Steel shows himself finally. Seems he was hindered a bit with Boxer’s missile. “You missed all the fun.”

“He’s seen three of these fights by now. He knows how it goes,” she chimes in.

“Let’s hope he doesn’t escape again,” he says.

“Yeah sure. Whatever. Let’s move on.” But just as you turn… shit. You have no idea where they came from but currently you have dozens of goons standing in front of you. “I didn’t felt those.”

“You said the fifth floor was blocked,” Steel says as he takes a stance.

“Yeah, probably should have guessed there were more there.” You take your stance and so does Argents.

“Boss!” you hear Pelayo yell. He and the others stand beside you.

“You can handle these?” You turn to Argent and Steel. Steel nods without looking at you. Argent rolls her eyes but nods too. You turn to your crew. All nod. Good. You are done fighting goons. Even if it’s a trap, you have to get there now. These goons will keep Argent and Steel busy long enough that you can deal with Zeta before they get to him. You run a diagnostic of your suit. Some damage from your fight with Boxer. But you can still work with this. Your weapons are all untouched as well. “Good. I’ll say hello to the Voice from your part.” You prepare your jets.

“Take them alive,” Steel orders.

“I make no promises.” You shoot your jets fly over the goons and through the hole in the ceiling. Time to find Zeta…

And end this.

Episode 16 Revenge: The Rules of Pain.

[theliberaltony]

via Politics – FiveThirtyEight

The nightmare is easy enough to imagine. Nefarious baddies sit in a dark room, illuminated by the green glow of a computer screen. Meanwhile, technicians watch in horror from somewhere in the Midwest as they lose control of their electrical systems. And, suddenly, hundreds of thousands, even millions of Americans are plunged into darkness.

That scene was evoked in recent weeks as federal security experts at the Department of Homeland Security warned that state-sponsored hackers have targeted more than American elections — they’re after the electric grid, too. They’ve gotten “to the point where they could have thrown switches,” a DHS official told The Wall Street Journal. Both DHS and the FBI have linked these attacks to Russia — which was already pinned as the culprit in two attacks that shut down power to hundreds of thousands of people in Ukraine two Decembers in a row, in 2015 and 2016. It’s all very urgent — a high-risk crisis that must be solved immediately.

But, surprisingly, some electrical system experts are thinking about it in a different way. Cyberattacks on the grid are a real risk, they told me. But the worst-case scenarios we’re imagining aren’t that likely. Nor is this a short-term crisis, with risks that can be permanently solved. Bringing down the grid is a lot harder than just flicking a switch, but the danger is real — and it may never go away.

Representatives from two nonprofit organizations — both of which play large roles in how the electric grid is regulated and maintained — said it is easier to imagine disaster scenarios than create one. “There’ve been some very sensational books out there about the grid going dark because someone’s got their finger ready over a mouse and everything is going to turn off at the same time,” said Bill Lawrence, vice president and chief security officer at the North American Electric Reliability Corporation, the regulatory authority that sets and enforces technological standards for utility companies across the continent. “The grid does not work that way.” Our electric infrastructure is chock-full of both redundancies and regional variations — two things that impede widespread sabotage.

That’s not to say that the grid isn’t under attack. Lawrence acknowledged that there is interest in “trying to hurt us from a distance.” But he emphasized there have not yet been any successful attacks — meaning hackers haven’t caused any blackouts.

Hackers keep targeting energy infrastructure

Reported attacks on electric grids and gas and oil infrastructure

Year Reported attacks 2016 59

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2015 46

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2014 79

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2013 145

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The division of Homeland Security that collects reports of cyberattacks on critical infrastructure has not yet published its incident report numbers for 2017. Organizations report incidents on a voluntary basis, so these numbers may not reflect all incidents.

Source: Industrial Control Systems Cyber Emergency Response Team

They’ve been poking at our critical infrastructure for a long while. Incident reports published by the Industrial Control Systems Cyber Emergency Response Team — a division of Homeland Security that does training and responds to cyberattacks on critical infrastructure — suggest that electricity, oil and natural gas infrastructure have been routinely targeted for years.1 There are dozens of these attacks reported to ICS-CERTS annually.

However, it would be difficult for these attacks to lead to wide-scale blackouts, according to Lawrence and Candace Suh-Lee, who leads a cybersecurity research team at the Electric Power Research Institute, a nonprofit research and development lab. And that’s true even if hackers do eventually succeed in taking control of some electric systems.

It helps that the North American electric grid is both diverse in its engineering and redundant in its design. For instance, the Ukrainian attacks are often cited as evidence that hundreds of thousands of Americans could suddenly find themselves in the dark because of hackers. But Lawrence considers the Ukrainian grid a lot easier to infiltrate than the North American one. That’s because Ukraine’s infrastructure is more homogeneous, the result of electrification happening under the standardizing eye of the former Soviet Union, he told me. The North American grid, in contrast, began as a patchwork of unconnected electric islands, each designed and built by companies that weren’t coordinating with one another. Even today, he said, the enforceable standards set by NERC don’t tell you exactly what to buy or how to build. “So taking down one utility and going right next door and doing the same thing to that neighboring utility would be an extremely difficult challenge,” he said.

Meanwhile, the electric grid already contains a lot of redundancies that are built in to prevent blackouts caused by common problems like broken tree limbs or heat waves — and those redundancies would also help to prevent a successful cyberattack from affecting a large number of people. Suh-Lee pointed to an August 2003 blackout that turned the lights off on 50 million people on the east coast of the U.S. and Canada. “When we analyzed it, there was about 17 different things lined up that went wrong. Then it happened,” she said. Hackers wouldn’t necessarily have control over all the things that would have to go wrong to create a blackout like that.

In contrast, Suh-Lee said, scenarios that sound like they should lead to major blackouts … haven’t. Take the 2013 Metcalf incident, where snipers physically attacked 17 electric transformers in Silicon Valley. Surrounding neighborhoods temporarily lost power, but despite huge energy demand in the region, “the big users weren’t even aware Metcalf had happened,” she said.

Difficult isn’t the same as impossible, Suh-Lee told me. Depending on where an attack happened and how people responded, you could get the stuff of our nightmares. Lawrence repeatedly invoked the phrase “knock on wood” as he talked about the possibility of infiltrations of electric infrastructure turning into real-world blackouts. That’s why there’s a lot of effort going into research, monitoring and preparation for cyberattacks. Lawrence’s team, for instance, is gearing up for an event that’s held every other year and is sort of like war games for the electric grid. And the Department of Energy is planning a similar event, focused on figuring out what it takes to reboot after a hacker-caused blackout.

But that preparation doesn’t mean we’ll eventually solve this problem, either, Suh-Lee said. If the chances of a cinematic disaster are low, the chances of a theatrical hero on a white horse riding in to save the day are even lower. Making the grid stronger and more resilient also means making it more digital — the work that’s being done to improve the infrastructure has also created new opportunities for hackers to break in. And the risk of attack is here to stay. Security improvements are “never going to completely eliminate the risk,” she said. “The risk is out there and people will find a new way to attack.” We’ll be living with cyber threats to the grid for the rest of our lives.