#Azure Batch

[netwatch]

Azure Batch: A Comprehensive Guide

Azure Batch: A Comprehensive Guide

Azure Batch is a cloud-based platform offered by Microsoft Azure that enables users to run large-scale parallel and batch computing workloads. With Azure Batch, users can manage, schedule, and run their applications and tasks on a pool of virtual machines. This provides a flexible and scalable solution for businesses and organizations looking to run complex computing tasks in the cloud. Key…

[shygaifu]

You thought I was done? You fool! GVPosting VOL. 4!!!!

[azuremliam]

Rambling and extra drawing underneath the readmore!

Funny story about these drawings is that they're apart of commissions from my pal (besides the first one) that's reaaaaaaaaally into Liam x Scarab (in fact most of the drawings I posted here are almost all commissions from him lol. If you're reading this bro, I'm still surprised you zeroed in on my oc of all things and not Prismo x Scarab), who's request went along the lines of:

"Hey how much would it be for you to design a bug kid for Liam and Scarab?"

"A dollar since you've spent so much already."

"I got tipped 53 bucks so-"

And he did indeed request it because of that Farm World scene lmao

I was just like “bro I think he might be being sarcastic there” and he was “no no- give them lots of kids he'd be ecstatic about it”

Tadaaaaaa lol 53 funky lil bug/lizard grub children, all of which do not have any names. I'll figure something out later 🤷‍♂️

[nullians]

Drew them wearing the hitai ate properly and hmm…

[thirteenducks]

rest for the weary

(neuvillette x fem!reader) [sfw]

༻❁༺ content: fem!reader (reader is referred to as 'girl'), no established relationship

༻❁༺ word count: ~1.9k

༻❁༺ tags: sickfic? sort of?, mild hurt/comfort, gentle and tender Neuvillette, being overworked, fainting, neuvillette is sexy in a paramedic kind of way, crimes against gloves, almost-crimes against pastries, "you will be taken care of So Help Me" neuvillette, very self indulgent, can you tell i'm a college student

༻❁༺ author’s note: blame my mutuals for putting talk about neuvillette being gentlemanly and kind on my twitter feed. this is their fault and also the four glasses of sangria i drank before i wrote this

Neuvillette would like to believe he understands human behavior quite well by now. What he does not understand is their tendency to be self-sacrificial to the point of exhaustion. When your stress reaches a fever pitch, he steps in.

You don’t remember if it was the fatigue or the hunger that you noticed first. Both have been on the fringes of your consciousness since you left your bed early this morning. Right now, they’re kept at bay only by a lingering headache that worsens as you step out into the clear day.

The beautiful azure of the morning sky above. The flocks of pigeons that dapple the steps of the Palais Mermonia like sunlight through leaves. The hum of the Court of Fontaine as coffee sales begin for the morning. All are lost on you as you forge ahead, feet barely clearing the cobblestone below them.

The papers on your desk, stacked high and demanding attention, are all that your bleary eyes register at the moment. Anything else is secondary.

As much as your conscience would contend it, your current predicament isn’t entirely your fault. Sure, you had procrastinated a bit when the pile of records was first assigned to you, and maybe hadn’t chipped away at it the way you could’ve if you planned ahead. 

For a gestionnaire, though, it’s also just that time of year when the clouds pour rain daily and the opera house sees a never-ending rotation of cases.

So if that means some sacrifices on your side are required, you’re willing to make them for the good of the Court. You’re certainly not the only one, either. The circles under the Chief Justice’s eyes always grow darker during the rainy season; you hope he’s taking better care of himself than you are.

Once you’ve gotten rid of this batch of paperwork, you’ll be free to rest for a while, you tell yourself. You can take a break. Maybe you could walk to that cafe down the street with the nice cashier and get yourself breakfast, if the rain isn't too bad by midmorning.

Your knees waver under you as you carry the precarious stack of records to the threshold of your office. On second thought, maybe you should ask if they offer delivery.

The low murmur of a familiar voice, a pleasant bass melody, reaches you as you step out into the plush carpet of the hallway. It floats through your dizzy head like syrup.

Good. You won’t have to walk far to give these to Neuvillette, then. You’re not sure your feet would carry you all the way to his office anyway, and you’d rather not field any uncomfortable questions about your health from such an esteemed man. 

Assuming what you hope is a pleasant expression, you approach the Iudex and Sedene as he bends at the waist to inspect a bump on her antler. 

There’s a very becoming look of concern on his face, you notice. It must be nice to be the focus of such care.

The unfazed voice of a Melusine comes from somewhere below you: “I promise it’s just a mosquito bite, Monsieur. I must’ve stood around the docks for too long this morning.” 

“Even so... I would administer some anti-inflammatory soon, Sedene. Please don’t neglect your health,” he chides as he pats her head affectionately.

Neuvillette rises again to his full height, catching your eye as you draw near to him.

A fetching smile upturns the corners of his mouth. He greets you with a stately nod, holding out his right hand for your stack of records. Your gaze flits to his other hand, currently engaged by an apple turnover.

Ah. A gift from a Melusine, no doubt. You hope he enjoys it, even if a part of your brain wants you to snatch it for yourself.

If Neuvillette catches the way your eyes linger on his breakfast, he doesn’t mention it. What he does is quirk his head to the left in a silent question as he continues to stand with his hand outstretched.

Oh, archons. How long have you been standing in front of him with a blank look on your face? Too long to be appropriate, certainly.

Clearing your throat and forcing a smile, you take a step forward to hand off your pile of papers to him. Only, instead of making contact with the floor of the hallway, your shoe falls into thin air as your other knee buckles and your back falls towards the carpet.

As your consciousness slips, you feel a cool hand snake around your waist.

Your head goes limp, bouncing a bit with the impact until the pastry drops to the carpet and Neuvillette’s other gloved hand comes to cradle the back of your neck.

He’s caught you. He wishes you were awake to instruct him what to do next.

He lowers you to the ground softly, brow creased with worry. Sedene stands next to him with a similar expression, holding the turnover she saved as it fell. 

“Sedene. Bring me a pillow from the sofa in my office, please. Quickly.”

The Melusine salutes and she darts off. His eyes never leave your face as he kneels, large frame bent over you protectively.

Releasing your waist, he brings a hand up to his teeth and tugs off the glove in a smooth motion before resting his bare fingers against your forehead. A curse in a tongue unknown to all but him breaks the quiet air and his brows knit together. Humans and their damned self-sacrificial nature.

Sedene returns holding a cushion. He eases it under your head with care, ensuring your neck is supported before he retracts the hand underneath.

There in the Palais hallway, the Iudex of Fontaine strips himself of his judge’s coat, uncaring of decorum at the moment. Gentle hands graze your bare skin as he wraps the garment around your shoulders. Were you conscious, you would feel the softness of the silk lining against your cheek and the scent of the ocean it carries with it.

He knows from his extensive observations of human behavior that you’ve probably only collapsed from fatigue, not sickness. And yet… and yet he cannot keep himself from stroking your forehead, cool fingertips resting there as he meditates.

Another moment passes before he makes up his mind. Your body rises from the carpeted hallway floor into strong arms, seldom-seen muscles flexing under his white undershirt. 

The change in altitude brings you halfway out of your daze. Through hazy vision, you catch the sight of pale skin moving above you. His slit eyes meet yours and you don't manage more than a small sound of confusion before you’re pulled back under by sleep.

With a brief nod to Sedene, Neuvillette carries you to his office in a few quick strides. The door slides shut behind him.

Your hands unconsciously tug on his lapels and you curl your body closer to the warmth of his chest, making his ears burn.

Every time he thinks he understands your species, something like this happens. 

He had certainly noticed your energy waning over the last few days, but he worried about the propriety of mentioning such a thing to you. Would you resent him for asking about something so personal? Should he send someone closer to you to step in before you hurt yourself?

In the end, he had settled for bringing you breakfast from a nearby cafe. He glances at the turnover, now sitting innocently on his coffee table courtesy of Sedene. It taunts him.

The silence in his office is deafening as Neuvillette lays you carefully on the sofa next to his desk. He runs through the list of human vitals in his head.

You’re breathing quite deeply. Your pulse is healthy and strong as his fingers press against the side of your throat. The color in your face is returning to its normal shade. Surely all you lack is a good meal, which he can certainly provide, and some rest. 

Then why do his hands shake as he pours tea into a cup on the table before you?

Why can he not keep his eyes from you as you sleep, chest rising and falling in a gentle rhythm? 

Why does he find it impossible to return to the paperwork that calls his name just a few feet away?

A clap of thunder shakes the building.

He doesn’t realize how long his eyes have been trained on yours until you’re staring back at him through lowered lids, awakened by the noise.

It takes about a half second for you to remember the circumstances of a few minutes prior and gasp, sitting up with a speed that makes Neuvillette reach towards you in concern. His coat falls from where it was draped across you and you stare at it, unblinking. 

Your gaze flits to Neuvillette, bare to the wrist. He watches silently as you register the sofa you’re laid upon and the lavish office around you.

The Chief Justice makes a strangled sound in the back of his throat when you rush to stand up, face burning. Your head spins - whether from fatigue or embarrassment, you’re not sure. A million apologies threaten to spill from your mouth at once.

With your head bowed and your feet unsteady below you, you don’t see the hand rising to your face until a cool sensation spreads over your flushed forehead. The surprise of it shuts you up immediately. When you do dare to raise your eyes, you hardly trust what you see in front of you.

There is no anger in the face of the Iudex, in the downturned curve of his mouth or the crease of his brow. Only tender concern presents itself as he addresses you.

“You appear to be feverish. Please, sit back down. I won’t have you fainting again if I can help it.” He removes his hand from your skin, leaving behind a burning sensation that you can't attribute to a fever.

“Mon- Monsieur?”

He tuts, raising the cup of tea to your hand and folding it into your grasp. “Drink, please,” he murmurs, face etched with care. 

You blink a few times, sipping the drink as if compelled by magic. It's sweeter than you’re expecting.

“Good girl.” 

You nearly choke on it.

If possible, Neuvillette looks even more distressed by your sudden coughing fit. “You’re far redder than when you awoke. The fever reducer in this blend should help with that, but in the meantime, please take some of this…”

The minutes pass quietly. Periodically, Neuvillette instructs you in a gentle tone to drink your tea or eat a bit of pastry. He absolutely forbids you to stand after the second time you attempt to excuse yourself.

When he's been assured that you're comfortable, he speaks again.

“May I ask why you believe those papers you were attempting to bring me were worth working yourself to exhaustion over?” 

His words are authoritative, but his voice carries such softness that you can’t help but be honest with him.

“I’m so very sorry, Monsieur. It won’t happen again. I’ve just had a lot on my plate this week.”

Neuvillette's violet eyes are melancholy as they meet yours. “Of course. It’s a busy time of year for us all,” he says, shifting his gaze to the steady rain outside. “I do hope you know, however, that I would far rather your work be late than your health to fail on my account.”

You duck your head. “...I understand, Monsieur.”

The man’s stately expression fades into something unreadable at that.

“...Please, call me Neuvillette.”

You were unaware that his voice, so commanding in the courtroom, could sound so tender directed at you.

Your gaze darts up from the floor. The Iudex is not meeting your eyes. His are fixed instead on the light drizzle pattering the windowpane. A faint swathe of color decorates his lofty cheekbones.

As you smile and nod your head, pronouncing his name with a few words of thanks, the morning sun streams into the room behind you.

It’s getting to be quite the lovely day outside.

[literaryvein-reblogs]

Guide to IPA Symbols

Vowels

æ ask bat glad ɑ: cot bomb caught paw ɛ bet fed ə about banana collide i very any thirty i: eat bead bee ɪ id bid pit ʊ foot should put u: boot two coo ʌ under putt bud ɚ merge bird further eɪ eight wade bay aɪ ice bite tie aʊ out gown plow oɪ oyster coil boy oʊ oat own zone blow ɑɚ car heart bizarre eɚ bare fair wear iɚ near deer mere pier oɚ boar port door shore uɚ boor tour insure ɒ British cot bomb ɔ: British caught paw port ə: British merge bird əʊ British oat own zone blow ɪə British near deer ɛə British bare fair ʊə British boor tour

Consonants

b baby labor cab d day kid ʤ just badger fudge ð then either bathe f foe tough buff g go dagger bag h hot ahead j yes vineyard k lacquer flock skin l law hollow l̟ pedal battle final m mat hemp hammer rim n new tent tenor run n̩ button satin kitten ŋ rung hang swinger p lapse top lip speed r rope arrive s sad mist kiss ʃ shoe mission slush t mat stick late tʰ toe attack ɾ later catty riddle tʃ batch nature tʃʰ choose chin achieve θ thin ether bath v vat never cave w wet software z zoo easy buzz ʒ vision azure beige

Other Symbols

' penmanship ˌ penmanship British indicates British pronunciation variant

Source

[nekohime19]

Mini Mac # 40 : fireball bath time

Savage doens't like baths, 😔

Macaque was cleaning Savage, or perhaps it would be more accurate to say he was trying to clean her. The lil wiggling worm wouldn't stop squirming around. She twisted herself in every way to escape his claws, sometimes even pawing at his hands in the vain of hope of deterring him. Macaque wasn't deterred. She was covered in mud and it would dry if he didn't clean her soon. How did she get this dirty? He honestly didn't know. He turned away for one minute and the next thing he knew his daughter's bright fur was covered in mud. She was always quite difficult when it was bath time. She preferred grooming. But grooming could only get you so far when your whole body was covered in mud. 

“Come on, firecracker. Be nice to dad, okay?” Cooed Macaque as he tried to lower his daughter into the bowl filled with fresh water drawn from a nearby river. Savage pouted (her expression very similar to Rumble's) and splashed Macaque. The black-furred monkey brushed his wet air away and frowned at his giggling fireball. “Yes, this is so funny, splashing dad is funny isn't it?” Savage chuckled, her laughter echoing all around them like the sound of a chime. 

“Adaaaa, aaal et.” Babbled Savage as she reached towards Macaque with her chubby lil paws. Recently, she started to babble a lot. Macaque was hoping she would say her first word soon. The black-furred monkey nodded, acting like he understood his daughter langage perfectly. 

“Ada al et, indeed.” Nodded Macaque. He battled with his daughter for a few more hours. Once she was finally clean, he put her in the crib with her slumbering brother. Rumble was curled around his doll, his face pressed against the silk blanket. Macaque brushed away the fur falling on the cub's forehead and kissed his head. Savage crawled towards her brother and curled around him. She liked to do that to latch on his warmth. Macaque found the sight unbearably cute. 

“You managed to clean the lil monster?” Asked Bajie as he sat near the fire camp. Macaque hummed and looked up from the crib. 

“Yeah, she's finally mudless. And all her fights made her tired.” Sighed Macaque as he rubbed his shoulders, being bent all the time to clean Savage made his back wince a little. 

“I swear your brat can teleport. That or she's very fast.” Snorted the pig, Macaque couldn’ t agree more. 

“What are you stirring tonight?” Asked the black-furred monkey, it smelled quite good, Bajie definitely improved since his first try. 

“Plums stew and Ao Lie stop eating grass before dinner!” The dragon-horse looked up from the batch of grass he was munching on, he did that a lot in his horse form. 

“But I'm hungry.” Sighed the dragon-horse. 

“You wait a few minutes, you glutton.” Huffed Bajie. 

“Put something warm on your back, it helps a lot.” Advised Sanzang as he turned towards Macaque. 

“Yeah, thanks kiddo. Any news of Wujing and Wukong?”Asked Macaque. 

“They're still patrolling for demons ahead. They'll come back after a bit.” Answered the monk, he then added more nervously : “I hope…”

Macaque snorted at the monk's nervosity, some things never changed. He then turned towards the crib at the sound of a sleepy mrrps. Rumble eyes were half-open, he was trying to push away his sister who was latching on him like an octopus. Macaque chuckled and went to aid him. Savage tended to squeeze the life out of her brother sometimes. 

After dinner, Macaque curled next to the crib and fell asleep. He woke up some hours once Wujing and Wukong came back. 

“You're back?” Mumbled Macaque as he rubbed his eyes. He saw out of the corner of his eyes Wujing preparing himself to sleep. Wukong laid next to Macaque and the crib and sighed, he looked quite upset. “Everything is okay?” Asked Macaque, a bit worried. 

“I… We’re approaching a demonic city…” Mumbled Wukong. 

“Oh we gotta avoid it then.” Replied the black-furred monkey. 

“It's ruled by Azure, Peng and Yellow-Tusk. Heaven is not gonna leave them alone, Mac… I…” Wukong didn't need to say more. Macaque sat up and opened his arms, the great sage shrinked and scrambled in the other monkey's arms, hugging him tightly. 

“It'll be okay.” Mumbled Macaque as he petted Wukong's head. 

“I hope so.” Mumbled the great sage. 

“Wanna know what Savage did today?” Asked Macaque in hope of making the other monkey smile. 

Wukong snorted and put his snout in the black-furred monkey shoulder. “What did the lil fireball do?”

“She splashed me. Bath time is a true battlefield I tell you.”

Wukong chuckled at that, his eyes creaking in amusement. But there was still worry lingering on his face.

+ cut scenes

Macaque : alright Sav, I'm just gonna put your brother in the crib then I'll be back to you, stay put, okay? 😌

Savage : 😊

Macaque *after putting Rumble in the crib and turning back to Savage* : Alright I'm done- what the-🤨

Savage *covered in mud* : 😊

 

Rumble *being held by Savage in the crib* : Dad! Help me! She's trying to kill me! 😭

Savage : warm fuzzy brother plushie 🥰

Ch1 / Previous / Next

[skellymom]

"STASIS"

The BAD BATCH WRECKER x FEM READER FIC

ᴛʜɪꜱ ꜰɪᴄ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴀɪɴꜱ ɴꜱꜰᴡ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ. ɪꜰ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀʀᴇ ɴᴏᴛ 18+ ᴅɴɪ

Word Count: 1.8K

Background: A Jedi finds refuge on Pabu...and more! Love story with angst. For those wanting the love story read just the story until the end, then go no further. Those who wish to stay for the adult humor EPILOGUE, keep reading!

The Jedi faces themself and their fears in the deep instead of a cave.

Warning: Star Wars Canon violence. Swearing/potty humor in the EPILOGUE only!

(Credit: Cool moving star dividers by @4ngelic-wh1spers , Wrecker Pinterest credit: Bad Batch)

Suspended comfortably like a womb and slowly riding the currents, I stilled my mind.  The ocean’s cool embrace allowed me to float effortlessly in its depths.  

All around gradients of aqua, azure, and lapis blue fading into one another. 

The rays of the sun playing upon ripples of the surface above. 

Deep dark blackness down under. 

As above, so below... 

Holding my breath for so long was second nature.  Had been since I was young.  Reaching a suspended stasis where a fresh breath of oxygen would only be needed once an hour. 

When my body signals the need to breathe, I can let go of the Force and slowly drift up to the surface, stopping just short of it.  With precise muscle control only allowing my nose to rise just above the water line... 

...exhale fully, inhale...filling my lungs to capacity... 

Then drift down again into the depths of the ocean.   

I don't even need to open my eyes or actively swim to accomplish this. 

I had arrived on Pabu that afternoon.  Getting intel from many different outlets to find a safe haven.  Seemed like FOREVER before I was able to get the coordinates.  And sworn to secrecy upon my very life. 

The island's Mayor, Shep Hazard, was kind and welcoming.  He offered to introduce me to the inhabitants of Pabu.  I politely declined for now.  He nodded with a knowing look. 

Before I could face ANYONE else... 

I had to face MYSELF. 

From there I walked with purpose to the soft sandy beach of this island paradise and sat upon its shores attempting to meditate.  It's beauty a wonderful home, the people upon it frolicking, working, LIVING instead of merely SURVIVING. 

A testament to what COULD BE in the universe.  A wonderful sight to behold. 

Unfortunately...too much of a distraction for now. 

So, I got up and moved to a more secluded area.  The walk slow, deliberate: a pre-meditative process before going into Force Stasis. 

Noting the soft, grainy texture of the sand beneath my feet and between my toes.  The island breeze caressing my body, causing the hooded robe to dance in the breeze.  The sounds of sea birds, crashing waves...smell of the surf, sand, breeze, warmth of my own skin in the sun... 

...the sun... 

The sun slowly lowering down to touch the horizon.  The earth and sea caressing each other with each successive wave.   The wind quietly sings as it brushes over and through the landscape. 

Soon, the moon will rise...and she will advance towards the sun in transit. 

Two lovers who continually pass each other and will for an eternity, never able to touch. 

Such a metaphor of a Jedi’s yearning for love...and physical bonding. 

I’m struggling to hold my composure... 

He was a clone. 

Even though it wasn’t his mutation, he could perceive my feelings for him.  Of course, I could easily pick up his. 

It was as natural as breathing. 

Spending so much time together: planetside, in war, the barracks, during idle downtime. 

One day he came to me, taking my hand into his...asking if our lives could be intertwined... forever.  

Holding back the intensity of emotion was extremely difficult.  I DESIRED this more than anything in the galaxy but had to keep it close to my heart.  Tamp it down.  Not allow it to run away with my feelings, or become too much of an attachment 

He openly wept when I explained that the Jedi Council would NEVER allow such things...and that he was property of the Republic. 

We both had NO control of each other’s destiny. 

I could FEEL his heart breaking.  But even after my gentle rebuke, he still carried a warm and intimate devotion for me.  My fleeting glances and body language telling him I felt the same way.   

Both of us YEARNING for something more.  Something freer than what our respective societal roles would allow.   I fondly remember his kind eyes, jovial laugh, gentle ways despite having the strength of twenty men. 

But THAT is ancient history.  Kamino City lies on the bottom of another ocean and The Jedi Order is dead... 

And the clones??? 

Their minds were taken by SOMETHING insidious and beyond their control.  All of them killers, missing, and forgotten by history. 

I BARELY escaped with my life. 

And now, I have found a safe place with that one similarity to home that I crave... 

The ocean. 

Tears leaked out of my eyes, mixing with the salty water of the sea, eliminating their very presence. 

A large school of rays swam past sensing melancholy, fluttered and swam around my body.  Caressing my skin, attempting to pull me away from my grief. 

I reached out with the Force thanking them for their care...as they glided away in the deep blue. 

It had taken me a while to find the right spot on the beach. 

To move onto the next chapter of my life, I carefully disrobed, folding my clothes neatly, placing them on top my boots, then relinquishing my light saber... 

...slowly stepping onto the surf, swimming out, and sinking into the depths of the planet's womb. 

The waters eventually darkened to black.  The only visibility from the full moon filtering her dim light through the depths upon my floating body. 

Something large circled me.  Far out, but slowly coming closer. Sizing me up with its hunger. 

I continued to float quietly, taking note of its lazy, deliberate orbit. 

Reaching out I registered its emotionless presence, driven to exist and feed.  I attempted to speak with it through the Force, but its brain was almost mechanical and not registering my thoughts. 

There was NO fear in my heart.  This was not evil, just nature. 

If indeed the Force meant for me to meet my end here on Pabu, how could I fight it? 

Everything lives.  Everything dies.  The Wheel of Life continues.   

My light saber resting upon the shore, out of reach.  If I thrashed about to swim, surely it would advance faster. 

I calmly waited to meet my fate. 

Eventually the presence circled closer.  I catch fleeting glimpses of pale scarred skin. 

It’s HUGE. 

With another pass the shark’s snout comes into view: Large jagged teeth poke out of its mouth, and a black impassive eye stares back into mine... 

...where I can see my reflection. 

It glides past gracefully and before swimming away... 

...bumps me... 

It’s jagged skin opening mine... 

A small stream of blood wafts away in the current. 

I refuse to struggle, keeping still, silent. 

The shark keeps swimming, then pauses a millisecond... 

Swiftly it turns and slams into me with brute force.  Knocking out my literal breath.  Swallowing water and reaching out intuitively I find its snout.  Trying in VAIN to reach out with the Force... 

But...I’m drowning... 

Large jaws thrash.  I can feel the concussive force of them closing even in the water. 

It’s pushing me back attempting to catch my arms, legs, body... 

I hold fast pushing against its snout. 

Those black empty eyes staring into my SOUL... 

Until one of them explodes into a mess of blood and tissue.  Two more shots hit it in the face.  Something breaks the surface of the water, bubbles trailing behind it, jackknifing towards the shark. 

The shark retreats, slamming me HARD with its tail. 

As my vision and consciousness starts to wane, a second something...someone...breaches the surface of the water...coming right for me.  I black out before I can tell who... 

The next thing I register is vomiting seawater on someone’s hand as they pull me up while gripping the front of my tank top. 

My sinuses, throat, and lungs burn from the seawater.  I'm coughing and struggling for breath...then look up. 

“CT...”  I cough again “TECH???  Is... that YOU???” 

“Of course.  Who else would I BE?” He’s wet, in swim trunks, wiping my vomit off his hand with a towel...then pulls at the bottom of his goggles to empty any water. 

Crosshair stands behind him, smug expression, holding his rifle. “Picked a GREAT time to go swimming.” 

“YOU’RE a sight for sore eyes!” Echo smiles and waves with his scomp. 

I cough and spit some more.  Sitting in a boat... 

“HOW...when...I have SO many questions...Where’s Wrecker???” 

The boys grin. 

Then I hear him.  His BIG voice booming across the water, excited as a puppy.  Barely able to contain himself...approaching in another boat...thirty feet away. 

I’ve held back for too long. Jedi Code BE DAMNED! 

Exhilaration, freedom, ALL the emotions launched me up from that boat and into the darkness... 

Force Jumping into the arms of the man I LOVE!!! 

He caught me.  He KNEW where I’d be.  No faltering in his desire to be there...to catch me.

I’m holding onto him with all my strength, kissing that beautiful bald head, down his cheeks... 

He gently grabs my face with his powerful hands, bringing it around to kiss him deeply... 

Somewhere in the back of my senses I hear Tech... 

“Careful, she just vomited...er...ugh...” 

Crosshair...laughing?  Maker, he sounds like a defective GOOSE! 

Wrecker’s lips pull away from mine.  We stare into each other’s eyes. 

“You’re REALLY here.”  He still can’t believe it. 

“Yes...and I’m staying...if you’ll have me.” 

“Forever?”

“Forever.” 

“I’ll TAKE IT!” 

EPILOGUE

Tech, Echo, and Crosshair watch as the second boat speeds away towards shore.  Shep smiling proudly as he mans the engine. 

Wrecker and his Jedi love with their arms intertwined, laughing... 

...the happiest they had ever seen their brother.  The Batch watch them go. 

“Where’s Hunter?” Crosshair inserts a toothpick into his mouth. 

Tech and Echo stare at each other alarmingly...he NEVER came up to the surface... 

Echo grabs a flashlight from his hip and shines it over the edge of the boat. 

A HUGE sharp toothed head emerges from the deep RIGHT IN ECHO’S FACE! 

“OHHHHSHHHIIIIIIIIIT!!!”  Echo jumped up and fell backwards onto the floor of the boat. 

The brothers hear a smoky laugh...somewhere out there... in the darkness. 

“KARKSDAMMIT, HUNTER!  Pissed myself!!!” Echo yells. 

“Confirmed.  Pissed himself.  Can SMELL it.”  Hunter remarks as he pushed up out of the water and flopped into the boat...wet hair and all.  He had tied the dead shark to their boat to take to land for butchering purposes. 

“Well SOMEONE had to get themselves into trouble several hours into one credit beer night!”  Echo grumped. 

“Could have just whipped it out and pissed over the side of the boat.” Crosshair smirked. 

“I’ll remember to do that NEXT TIME we're speeding along and I’m in FRONT of you.” 

Tech gazed at Echo and Crosshair like he didn’t recognize them.  “That...is disgusting.” 

Hunter chuckled, pulled up the seat storage compartment to take out an extra pair of swim shorts, tossing them to Echo. 

Echo sighed. “Thanks, vod.” 

Crosshair settled into the navigator's seat, waiting for Echo to change... 

...then FLOORED the engine before Echo could pull up the clean pair of swim trunks around his ankles. 

A VERY surprised bare-assed Echo grabbed ahold of Tech for balance as both collapsed into the boat! 

Hunter toppled off the back and rode the dead shark all the way to the docks! 

Crosshair honked as he laughed his ass off... 

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[parsapuff]

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[0m3g4skanohiforge]

Well folks, it's been a fair few Mask Mondays since my last post, I just... really haven't had updates to share. Between getting a near full-time job, daily life complications, and of course the 810 event launch, I haven't been able to spend much time developing new colours or making cool effects. Figured I'd take this opportunity for another update, regardless.

I've still got a fair few colours to work on, of which I keep cycling through every so often when I can, because seeing variant shades of the same colour and going "okay this time is gonna be perfect" only to keep getting it wrong gets... pretty tiring. At least the variety is there with how many I have to work on, at the cost of all of them taking that much longer.

Lime is really close though! It's a tiny bit off, still, but close enough that my mom thinks I should count it. Maybe staring at these for so long is making me crazily picky 😄

Purple is... a pain in the ass, tbh. If I had a week of free time, I could get Dark Purple, Medium Lavender, and Lavender for sure, and still be no closer to Classic Purple. It's so different from the rest in how red it is but I haven't yet found a proper balance that doesn't overshoot it wildly.

Orange... y'all remember my Reddish-Orange update? Reddish-Orange is closer than Orange because I just can't seem to get this to saturate well enough while maintaining opacity, and again the camera seems to think both are far off.

Sand Blue and Medium Blue haven't been touched in a while, so I should probably get those going again once these batches for Etsy orders are done, but damn... I spent so much time on Sand Blue and just couldn't land it. Hopefully there's some info I got from the month and a half spent grinding out Silver that can finally get Sand Blue, at least. Medium currently feels closer to Light Azure, which is pretty but not the goal yet.

Not really sure what's been happening with teal, using my old resin it's the first colour I matched but with this new (arguably better) kind I'm either basically green or basically blue.

That all leaves Pearl Gold as the final colour in development. With the least progress currently, I'm hoping simply replacing the silver dyes with gold and whatnot will work for the otherwise same formula as silver, but I'll have to see if my pearling powder is too pale for that. In due time.

Also, I got a second pressure pot! Should have it all set up by the weekend, which will then basically double my output. Twice as many pieces made per day, even if that's just two batches instead of one (with a theoretical max output of 6 batches if I can afford the time and actually keep on schedule). So excited to get this running, and finally see some smoother progress! This wouldn't have been possible without everyone's incredible support, and I hope to have more exciting news soon!

[azureitri]

✧ [ AZURE : THOUGHTS ]

— since blue ( @lookatmysillies ) is doing the intimacy levels of his ocs with others, i decided to do mine for azure! except it isn't intimacy levels but just short thoughts about the others ( i will make a more detailed version of this someday because it's part of azure's whole character :] ).

solei —

the sunshine of our batch. your personality serves as an inspiration for the one i will be displaying in the future.

khoi —

everybody likes your kind personality; i shall take note of that.

aurien —

you're the first to approach me for a conversation. i don't get why you'd to that, you just wasted your time.

tov —

i don't get why you're so interested in me. you're wasting your time.

castor —

people like you proves to me how easy it is to take advantage of someone full of love.

kyo —

you and i almost sound the same when singing, although it is quite easy to differentiate us both when we talk (i don't talk often, so it's clear who's talking).

thank you for being the catalyst of my victory. i'm thankful that we have such similar voices. (2)

cirrus —

i lost against you. you brought up my fate quickly than i expected.

parted for a clear sky, rest in peace. ✧ (2)

vera —

poor soul, rest in peace. ✧

nyx —

i can sense your dislike for me. doesn't bother me one bit.

rose —

i thought my cold personality would be enough to keep you from coming up to me; i guess not.

evon —

i notice you and jae glancing at me, you know?

daiki —

stop bothering me.

noora —

give up, you'll end up being more frustrated if you keep talking to me.

flor —

you keep looking at me weirdly...

(2) = another thought, ✧ = re: azure. (the one for rose actually applies to anyone who still talks to him despite him showing signs that he isn't interested.) tagging @solei-eclipse @bittersweet-adagio @aurienneirua @ivanttakethis @cirrusoftheclouds @imperfectnothing @rosedeleca @heycloseyoureyes @daiki1k @kamersona @sotogalmo

should i make a part 2? feel free to ask about azure's thoughts on your character ٩(^ᗜ^ )و

[matchadobo]

KIDD; the captain's madam

wc: 6857  summary: what might happen if commodore name and captain eustass kidd are forced to work together under a certain hapless situation while trying set aside their helpless diffferences and rancorous history? warnings: afab!reader, nsfw smut (cunnilingus, actual seggs, read at your own discretion 🔞), v1ol3nce?, steamin' sexual tension between reader and kidd, kidd being humbled is a treat

the vast skies mirrored the pelagic blues, a sight that never ceases to behold beauty within. the scorching sun, blinding and sizzling each span of land on the globe. on the stillness of the azure surface of the sea, what lies beneath are scores of sea kings that leaves no room for mercy but only wishes to satisfy their constant hunger. the same sea where victoria punk stood afloat, sailing through their next destination from the log. 

it was a simmering day under the sun, the crew had just about done everything to keep themselves under the shade and away from the heat; including the grumpy captain himself. he was clutching a cold, sweating bottle of rum, feet propped up by the table, and vest discarded somewhere he couldn’t care less where. 

“fuckin’ damn it, new world never has a good weather, does it?” kidd complained, fanning himself with a random newspaper he snatched from killer not too long ago. it took everything in him to ignore the fellow on the paper, a fellow he detest so much. 

“if you drank water rather than rum, maybe you’d be feeling less hot, kidd.” killer blatantly retorted, placing a tall glass of icy water by his desk. receiving a ‘shut up’ from kidd, he watched the redhead down the liquid like it was the only thing keeping him alive. “also, i’d like to get my newspaper back. it’s an item for reading, not fanning.” he sassed a little, snatching the batch of papers back from the disgruntled captain. 

“sure, i almost ripped it to shreds when i  saw the front page.” he stood up from his seat, stretching as he reached for the ceiling with a grunt. he grabbed his vest and made his way outside, looking a for other places to go where the sun doesn’t shine. he went towards his figure head, leaning by the railings as he embraced the welcoming breeze of the sea. as he hid from the sun, he heard a whizzing sound of something that came as quick as it went away from a distance; he knew that sound all too well, it was a cannon ball. 

he stood upright immediately, eyes skimming the horizon to look for where the sound came from. suddenly, a bullet grazed his skin; he fortunately dodged it just in a nick of time. he looked behind him and saw the all too familiar pink coated cartridge of ammo. he laughed to himself, gritting his teeth in anger and perhaps anticipation at your arrival. 

“buckle up, fuckers! the madam of the blues is here!” he stood his guard, raising his hand and amassing balls of metals above him as he discerned your ship from the distance. even from the wide stretch of sea, he could see you standing atop your siren figurehead, laughing your ass off at how you caught him off guard. his grin grew wider when he braced himself for momentum and threw heavy balls of metals and scraps towards your direction as your galleon got closer. your ship rocked side by side at the impact, immediately cursing him for his gesture.

the madam of the blues, an alias bestowed to you by the people that feared you and admired you. commanding the four seas, invincible across the calm belt; the only human who can rave the nest of sea kings and live to tell the tale. unscathed as you were in numerous battles, your body was adorned by the scars of yesterday; proudly retelling your barbaric nature across the blues. your eyes apprised the brewing fury of the eye of a storm, a warning for those who dare cross your way; disturbing the calm of the typhoon. yet here kidd was, fascinated by the cataclysm that is you.

the back and forth squabble continued until your ship and his were a meter away, bow to bow with each other. your raven galleon was comparably huge to any ship that passes your way, even exceptionally bigger than the victoria. you sauntered down the ship rails, heels clicking by the maple railings. your hand steady by the gun strap on your thigh, surveying before the stygian ship as a cruelly mocking grin tugged at your tinted lips. you met eyes with the red head, deigning a flourishing bow as you crossed a leg behind the other; a scornful curtsy for someone who did so much bad to you than good. “fancy seeing you pathetic lot here, what warranted a lovely visit from one of the worst generations?”

you relished at how his face contorted in umbrage, your grin stretched from ear to ear as your eyes mirrored intense contempt. that is until the pale bastard parted his lips, “there’s two of us.” 

“and i’m pertaining to the man in the mask,” you tilted your head in amusement, seeing him grit his teeth with a scowl in his eyes. “captain.” 

“wench.” 

in a second, the simultaneous clicks of guns rang beyond the blue skies and fear suddenly clouded the air around the lot of you. muzzles pointed at the kidd pirates as they unveiled their weapons too, eyes agitatedly scanning the guns around them with its safeties off. more ships, bigger than the galleons before them had their bloodlust directed at the pirates on victoria’s deck. completely surrounded, vulnerable, and unknowingly crossing the territory of the madam. 

“ah-ah, at ease girls.” you raised a hand as a warning, the immediate retreat of guns was almost chilling. “we’ll not waste bullets on these…bunch.” you looked down at kidd, the little pause bitterly rose the bile in his throat at how belittled he felt with your eyes. 

“so you still keep tabs on me,” you added, eyeing the newspaper killer was clutching. “missing me, captain?” you shifted your weight, turning to the fuming red head.

“you’re the one who made your way over here, commodore. how about you tell me?” he mustered a grin, crossing his arms, his snowy, sinewy arms full on display. it took everything in you to ignore it each time you cross paths and he flexes it. “even made an effort to park your ship here to see me, aye? ain’t that interesting, name?”

“using arrogance to cover up for your inferiority. so typical of you, eustass.” you scoffed, jumping off to your galleon’s deck. “i would’ve blown your ship to bits if i could.”

“really now? and you didn’t because?” he shifted his weight on his foot, not backing down despite being outnumbered. 

“there are civilians in my perimeter.” you firmly retorted. “and unlike you, i have a fucking heart.” you turned to walk away. “get the fuck off my territory before i sink your measly goddamn ship.” voice growing a notch deeper, your side eye gave an unknowing chill and suspense by the column of his spine before you vanish into your colossal galleon.

killer put a hand above kidd’s shoulder, a sign of telling him to stand down because you all know he stands no chance against a fucking commodore on her territory. kidd was beyond pissed about it. pissed about your authority and the power you hold within him. he knows you’re much stronger than him. he knows your influence across the blues, and he loathes your prestige. each mention of your name, each wanted poster with a monumental bounty each time he sees it, each shriek and praise by the civilians who fear and love you, each land you marked yours, and each gloat he sees in your eyes each time you two meet and you look down at him by your pedestal on your galleon. but most of all, he hated how much he thought about you. was it envy or longing? was it admiration or annoyance?

a few weeks have passed after the incident, more encounters and battles unfolded between the two of you and your crews. it all started and ended the same; one of you finds the other, say some insults here in there, and attacks until one of you becomes bloody or unconscious. it’s just an endless cycle of cat and mouse. 

that is until one rainy afternoon, a storm bubbled up by the heavens had ceased the duel unraveling between the two of you. and in a blink of an eye, your vision was clouded with black. the last thing you could see was your shipmates running to you and kidd standing from afar with an unreadable expression on his face. 

you then found yourself half-buried by the pearly, white sand with your damp clothes and frizzy hair. awoken by the smell of burning firewood, your eyes scanned the place. all you saw was that familiar back you used to look at and admire back then but you abhorred today. the environment seemed like a barren beach, no signs of people inhabiting it nor animals. you saw your galleon and his ship, lying wrecked by the sand; some of the parts dismantled and separated. you shot up with worry for your ship, instant panic as you tried looking for your crewmates. 

“lookie, princess is finally awake.” a gruff voice spoke beside you. your hand slid down to your thighs to grab your gun, yet there was a sword levitating and positioned on your neck. you could feel the cold metal hovering and precariously adjacent to the column of your neck, you gulped as you eyed the man before you.

“try anything, i fuckin’ dare you.” he ran his tongue across his lips, canines tugging at his lower lips as a grin made its way across his face to see how cornered you were. his steely, ochre eyes that glowed amidst the stygian shore were fixated on watching your every move. he was sat down at the log before you, his forearms pressed above his knees as he leaned forward to get closer to you. he had his finger effortlessly pointed at where your neck was, a trail of black lightning controlling the hovering weapon that almost scathed you to your imminent death. 

“threatening the madam of the blues, huh? do you plan on dying that early, eustass?” you raised a brow, unfazed at the weapon almost grazing your neck. you still slid your gun out of its casing and flicked the safety off, pointed undauntedly at the viciousness before you. your eyes matched how thirsty for a fight he was, the same throat-drying bloodlust clouded the air just like how your past clashes occurred. 

right this moment, there was a complete silence where you two had your weapons pointed at each other; one nudge and one of you could die immediately. “mind stopping this farce to tell me what the fuck is going on?” you broke the silence yet still keeping your guard.

“i’ll decide that when i get my fill.” he muttered under his breath. “i’d like to see you bleed first, madam.” there it is, that ferocious simper that never fails to quicken the pace of your heartbeat, raise bile up from your stomach to your throat, bubbles up something you refuse to acknowledge in your stomach, raise the hairs across the surface of your body, and leave your neck feeling hot. 

if it weren’t for your honed reflexes from years of piracy, you would’ve died from being perforated by two nodachis trajected from directions you couldn’t even see. from your lofty jump, you had a bird’s eye view of the wrecked seaside scattered with broken ship parts and garbage. you twisted your two guns by your index finger before firing it towards his direction, matching his speed as he tried outrunning your brisk bullets that pierced through obsidian walls.. 

from afar, he had already created a tornado with heaps of metal scraps he amassed while running from your poisonous bullets. you landed on the ground and the next thing you know, the projectile of his craft  was welcoming your arrival. but you weren’t a commodore for no reason, you were known as one of the strongest haki users from the new generation. using your conqueror’s haki, you stopped the trajectory of the metals and parried them to the skies; the heavens parted just like that one time when the two of the most legendary pirates fought back in the old generation. 

seeing kidd stunned, satisfied you to an amount where you wanted to maniacally laugh before his face. you raised your gun and fired a bullet straight through the side of his face, grazing the deepest scar on his body that starts from his forehead down to his chest. watching him  wince  in pain as the blood dripped from his head brought you nothing but ecstasy.

 “gotten rusty captain?” you strutted towards him, gun still pointed at him until it harshly met his cheek. “have you decided to stop being stupid?”

“you haven’t changed.” he mumbled lowly, tasting his own blood from the wound you induced. “you’re still the same crazy bitch who always goes too far, huh?” he painfully grinned, the blood reaching his teeth and staining it. 

“i didn’t ask for sentiments, i asked for an explanation.” before pressing on the wound once more with your muzzle, you spun the weapon by your fingers and discarded it by the casing on your thighs. 

he sighed in defeat before answering, looking towards the eerie forest that lies beyond the seaside you two are settled in. “it was blurry a few minutes before i woke up, but they got taken—my men and yours.”

“what? who took them?”

“the tribe inhabiting this land. we fuckin’ trespassed.” he retorted, putting his hands by his hips. trying to think of an alternative to take his crew back, clearly frustrated.

shit. this was inevitable. aside from your lopsided and wrecked ship, it’s already dire that your girls are missing. worry and desperation washed over you. what’s worse is you’re stuck with this barbaric moron who you swore to stay the hell away from. your relationship with him is like fire and ice, it’s a constant battle of which will break off first; and that sure as hell isn’t you. the most feasible option was to stick to this meathead to have more manpower to navigate through the foreign terrain where the tribespeople’s intent are unknown other than kidnapping and pillaging. 

besides, it was evident that you two needed each other. from how they successfully took your crewmates without the two of you, one of the strongest across the seas, waking up just showcases and gauges how strong they are. you are in their territory, they have the advantage. 

“i’m taking my men back.” he blurted out, heading straight to the forest. 

“and you’re still the same fucking idiot who always charges in before thinking, huh?” you called out, voice growing a notch higher. “if you want to get yourself killed and let your crew lose their captain, be my goddamn guest. that’s what you’re good at, isn’t it? not fucking thinking about the consequences.” you said with so much resentment he could feel his throat going dry as he stopped in his tracks.

“look, name.” he started, tone serious as he stretched his palm before you to get your attention. your name bitterly rolling out of his tongue. “if you think i’d just stand idly while knowing that my men are out there, without me, not knowing if they’re alive or not; then you’re sick to you fucking stomach.”

“you’re really a dumbass, aren’t you?!” you bit back, “you think i will either?!”

“the fuck are you saying then?!” his voice matched the same frustration yours echoed.

“that we, as much as we fucking despise each other, should find them together.” you said through gritted teeth, refusing to meet his eyes.

“you’re asking to team up?” he crossed his arms, smug coating his voice. “never thought the day would come, commodore.”

“make no mistake, this is not an alliance.” you retorted. “this is simply a truce, unless you’d rather see your crew die and have you follow the same fate.”

“tch, quit yappin’ then and get movin’.” he said before turning his back stomping away, you stood satisfied at how humbled he got. 

as the night deepened, so was your venture towards the dark forest. you were the one leading and kidd was following after you, keeping guard by the rear. it was a silent stroll across the forest, there were complaints here and there for kidd being too loud or you being too slow for the latter. there were times where you two bump into each other and it’ll spark a whole ass fight between the two of you. so much time had passed that you began seeing stars from drowsiness, it took you so long to find a decent trail to follow because kidd kept prancing about until the sun reached the middle of the skies. 

“can we, stop for a while…” you panted, grabbing a hold of the tree beside you. the everlasting exhaustion suddenly hit you matched with your empty stomach, your vision started hazing. “i feel fucking…fainti-” you passed out before you could finish your sentence. the last thing you saw was kidd muttering strings of curses as he rushed towards you. you didn’t care less how much you hate him right now, you needed someone to hold and lean onto. 

you found yourself sprawled on the sandy ground with kidd’s fur coat draped over you, your head placed delicately on his lap as he dozed off with a whole ass watermelon on his other hand. you shot up from your position immediately, realizing the situation you are in. muttering strings of curses to yourself, you felt your head spin and stomach growl at your sudden movement. 

you tried snatching the watermelon away from him, that is until his grip tightened. “that ain’t nice of you, name. tryna steal what isn’t yours.” he opened one eye, voice husky from sleep. 

“my name and nice in one sentence doesn’t work, fuckface.” you rolled your eyes, snatching the watermelon anyway.  

“you’re pretty active, ain’t ya? seems you got a good sleep, commodore.  my lap that comfortable, yeah?” he teased as a smirk tugged on his lips, pulling one of his knees in an upright position and placing his forearm on top of it. his yellow orbs never seem to lose that haughty glint each time he looks at you.  

you sighed in annoyance, cracking the watermelon open as you smack it with the side of your hand. yet a faint blush crept in your cheeks as you thought about his remark, you’ll be lying if you’d deny that you slept so well in his presence. you just stuffed your face with the fruit to hide your cheeks. “truly, i almost didn’t wake up because i didn’t wanna see your dunce face.” you retorted, smiling in aggravation. you tossed the other half of the fruit to him, to which he effortlessly caught. his brows furrowed once more with your reply, grumbling as a response as he gobbled up the watermelon. 

“just don’t fuckin’ faint out of the blue like that, thought you fuckin’ died or some shit.” he almost slurred his words from eating up the fruit. 

“aw, i didn’t expect concern from a brute like you.” you put a hand on your chest. “got scared?”

“shut the fuck up.” he dismissed, words filled with so much unsaid sentiments as he refused to meet your eyes.

once you two finished your meal, you both carried on in your pursuit for your mates. after a couple of hours of fighting back and forth on which direction to go, you lot have finally reached their camp. bamboo fences with pointy edges, well-guarded perimeters with guards armed with wooden spears, hammocks and nipa huts filled with inhabitants going about their days, a small barn of animals and crops adjacent to it, and there stood the leader who seemed to be busy attending to his subjects. 

“that those fuckers?” he muttered under his breath, almost a whisper. you two are hiding beneath bushes upon bushes, shoulders  pressed close together as you two hid to plan an attack.

you affirmed, “i can snipe five guards from here, the others are up to you.”

“let’s just fuckin’ charge in! what’s the point of doing it silently?!”

“you fucking idiot…!” you hit his head with your gun. “do you see metals on them?! your devil fruit won’t be useful in disarming them.”

“but it’d be more than enough to kill them, aye?!” he smiled ear to ear, bloodlust painted in his eyes.

“don’t you ever fucking think?!” you continuously hit him, receiving multiple whines from the redhead. “did it cross your pea-fucking-brain that they’d outnumber us…!” you berated him while still whispering.

“just watch and thank me later, commodore.”  he announced, he pressed his hand down the ground and you felt the surface  rumble beneath you. the soil beneath your feet and across from you crumbled, if it weren’t for him hooking his arm around your waist you would’ve fell to your death. and in a matter of seconds, eustass kidd created a fucking landslide. 

the pile of metals he magnetized from the ground was currently the platform you two are standing on. “see?” he gazed at you over his shoulder, rejoicing at your stunned expression as your jaw dropped with the immediate alter of the geologic landscape. what was once a flat surface of soil became a basin.

“h-how the fuck do you expect us to find them alive then?!” you complained, seeing the ground you stood on earlier reduced to powdery, heaps of soil. 

“i made a platform for them too of course, look around you shit. you think i’m that fuckin’ dumb?!” he retorted, pointing at where your and his crews reside.

a breath of relief escaped you when you saw your girls. “commodore, you teamed up with him?!”

“i had to get you all out of here. it wouldn’t be possible on my own.”

“eh? it also wouldn’t be possible that nothing happened but a temporary truce between you two?” one of them chirped, a malicious tone in her voice.  “a man and a woman alone in the woods–doesn’t that instigate somethin’?”

“i’ll have your head in a platter if you two don’t shut up.” 

there lied the tribespeople, buried in soil as one of them tried getting up. the lot of you were too busy reuniting to notice one of them pointing their blowgun at you. and in a moment faster than your bullets, a dart pierced at the side of your neck and you felt your limbs freeze as you lose all control to move. your right hand woman caught you as your crewmates repeatedly called out to you.

“fuck, they got name!” kidd reacted faster than your crewmates would, fury rushing through his veins as he controlled  a metal bar to pin the culprit on the ground by his neck. all he was seeing was red and all you could see was the faint, blurry sight of his figure brimming with lightning as he garnered yet another tornado from his power. the heaps of metal vibrating at his trigger as it flew across the woods towards an apex that is above him.

“i’ve had fuckin’ enough of this shit.” he growled, eyes radiating ire as the beast that craves nothing but inhuman slaughter took over and revealed itself from his demeanor.. “i draw the fuckin’ line here, you’ve hurt one of us and i’d kill to let you suffer tenfold of the goddamn consequences.”  you faintly heard the strings of curses he mumbled before a loud crash drifted you out of your consciousness. 

you had awoken and it's already dark, you found yourself lying down by an unfamiliar room. the walls were burgundy painted and you seem to have passed  out for  a long time. there were shelves upon shelves of trinkets of varied sizes and colors, which you know all too well where it came from and who made it. you were cocooned in a velvety, crimson blanket on  a king size bed with pillows of blacks and reds. you looked around and saw a mahogany bedside table with bottles of rum and used up lipsticks. you could smell that metallic cologne that you’ve once grown accustomed to back in the days but learned to resent nowadays. a familiar sight and feeling to you. 

you’re well aware of where you are–residing in the captain’s quarters of the victoria. in the same bed where he sleeps and his smell latched onto, the same room where everything between the two of you began and ended back then, the sleepless nights that you two spent rambling about the shitstorm that you call this world and your soaring dreams to be the greatest among all; always competing  and bring out the best in each other, and those little arguments that soon blew off into something unredeemable. ending everything you two had built.

your neck feels sore, you reached over to brush your fingers by it when you felt a bandage patched on at one place. yet you manage to pull yourself up as you tried and searched for any sort of warmth and life. soon enough, the door slammed open and revealed the last person you ever want to see. 

“k-kidd?” for the first time, his name didn’t hold any resent nor ill intent as it rolled out of your lips. if anything, he felt like salvation from the pain you were in. how ironic, he used to be the source of it.

your voice is hoarse and your lips are pale and dry. his golden eyes had a gentle glint to it you couldn’t quite make out. he entered the room like he wasn’t himself, from the bottle of rum on his hand and a pink tint on his face; it was evident that he had been drinking his ass off.

he made his way to the edge of the bed, his bed. “do you need anythin’?” his usually belligerent voice was now delicately soft by your ears. boy if you only knew, that he was restraining himself from embracing you right now. he reeks of alcohol but you don’t mind, you’re just glad you felt something warm right now.

“aside from revenge from the one who knocked me out, nothing else really.” you bitterly remarked, receiving a weak laugh from him. “you look like shit? you don’t have that spunk in you, eustass.”

“gave us a scare like that, tch.” he shook his head, leaning forward where his elbows were pressed on his knees. his brows furrowed and his teeth grinding against each other as a grumble left his throat after his sentence.

“you’re scared?” you asked, utterly confused.

“damn right i’m scared! you always make me fuckin’ scared! for a moment, i thought i lost you again.” he shook his head, fists balling up.

“again? you pushed me away the first time, didn’t you?” the offense and bitterness was evident in your voice as you crossed your arms.

“and that was fucking stupid, okay?! do i look like i enjoyed that decision, eh?!” he finally faced you, furiously waving his hands from his surge of emotions. you didn’t miss how glassy his eyes were, it shattered your heart to see him like that; it always did. but he looked away immediately and swallowed harshly. chugging at the bottle on his hand, as if drowning his tears away.“it’s lonely and every-fucking-day i look for you.”

“ain’t that what you want? no weaklings in the crew.” you scoffed, your resentment got the better of you and you almost regretted saying that. but it was the truth, he did push you away because you were weak. you never forgot how much those words stung and how it always echoed in your head each time you remember or see him. it broke you, it almost killed you. to realize that the man that almost completed you was the one who broke you apart bit by bit. it angered you to a point of no return, or at least you thought it did. you thought you’d never get even a foot close to him, much less be in the same room as him. and you never thought you’d feel your heart beat again for him at his next words.

he fell silent, fists balled up as he downed his rum again. “sorry.” he swallowed hard, tears finally falling, yet he refuses to look at you. “my stupid fuckin’ pride got in the way.” he sniffled, you could sense how much it took him to muster up those words. “wanted to keep you to myself, away from all the dangers of this piracy. yet here you are a goddamn commodore, i…i couldn’t even be more proud and couldn’t even be less alone.” he scoffed with disdain, wiping off his tears with the back of his palm. 

there was silence as you tried and register what he just said. “if only you were that emotionally aware back then, the seas wouldn’t need to suffer the setbacks of our stupidity.” you sighed, “give me that,” you snatched the rum out of his hand and chugged it all out, the bottle being empty of what it used to be filled with. 

“what…what the fuck’s your problem?” he looked at you like you grew another head.

“i wouldn’t have the balls to be fucking you sober, that’s for sure. c’mere.” you grabbed the back of his neck and pulled him close, stopping for a while when your lips were millimeters away from each other. the aroma of rum clouding both of your senses, “apologizing made you ten times hotter, eustass.” 

his hands then snake around your waist as your lips collided, evident hunger for each other didn’t stop the both of you from hurriedly discarding each other’s clothes off. his calloused palms ghosted across your arms, traversed the span of your back towards the junction of your shoulders and neck opposite to the wounded side as he placed a firm grip around it to press your head further to his—deepening the kiss.

you found yourself straddling his lap, arms wrapped around his neck as you both tried fighting for dominance between the kiss. you had your hand fixed at the back of his neck, tilting your head to bury your tongue deeper in his mouth; earning his grunts and hums from your actions. that is until he tugged your lower lip and finally caught you off guard. he smiled through the kiss and said, “nice try, love. but in the victoria, i take the lead.” he sucked in your lower lip, letting it go with a loud smack as he watched you shiver under his breath.

the kiss went on for a long time, both of your hands not leaving each other’s body as if you were both starved; realistically speaking,  you two were. his flesh hand was settled by the mounds of your rear while the metal one was fixed on your waist. kneading and smacking your mounds ever so often, eliciting whimpers and whines from you. squeezing the flesh of your lower body, he pressed your thighs tighter to his sides as his metal hands effortlessly unhook your bra in a matter of seconds. “eager?” you teased. 

“just fuckin’ look at you, who wouldn’t be?” he growled, lips trailing down to pepper your breasts with kisses and hickeys as he sucked on each one with delight. you pressed his head further to your chest whilst grinding your lower half onto his, feeling up his hardening member beneath his boxers. 

once he got his fill, he went back to kissing you again and again. he sucked on each of your lip with much fervor, playing with your tongue and drinking all your moans. he hugged your waist and pressed your torso against his, inhaling and taking in your scent, how you fit on his lap, how your lips taste and feel, and how you seem to can’t get enough of him just as much as he can’t of you. it was clear that he wanted to have you this close for a long, long time.

the alcohol finally hitting you, you grew a bit bolder and pressed him down to his chest where he lied on his back. you finally got a good look at him; a blushing mess with his lipstick smeared at the sides of his lips as he looked up at you with so much desire and neediness, his glassy eyes mirrored how drunk he was for you, how he wanted to reach over and have more of you. and that’s exactly what you’ll be doing for him right now.

“you know, if you apologized more. you’ll be receiving more than this as a reward.” you welcomed, crawling to his face and settling yourself down. he grumbled by your drenched core, the vibrations electrifying you from your bundle of nerves up to your hazy mind. he began to smother his face on it, your squelching juices combined with the bubbling pleasure on your stomach caused you to fervently grip the headboard and his hair for support. you pressed yourself further down as he had a firm grip on your thighs to keep you in place, too drunk in devouring you.

he licked long trails across your crevice, playing with your clit, and sucking on your folds until his face was damp on your juices. soundly ravaging your core as he reveled on how you pulled on his hair each time you moan his name, reverberating across his quarters and made his member twitch. 

once you reached your climax, he looked up at you and licked his lips. your sultry moans sounded like angels singing by his ears. “it’s even better than how i imagined you’d be.”

“oh? you’ve fantasized about me?” you raised a brow, playing along as you traced his scars. you leaned down and licked down to where the rough patch of skin resided. pleasured hums singing across your ears.

“oh, madam. you have no idea.” he maneuvered your body and you were now lying on your back. pure lust reflected his tone as he caged you in his sinewy arms, leaning down to get closer to your face. the combined scent of his cologne and rum intoxicated you to an extent where you couldn’t think of anything but letting him have his way with you. 

he started placing wet kisses on your cheek, low voice on your ears. “each night that this bed felt empty and cold,” down to the side of your neck where some of your scars start, “those times where we finish a long round of sparring across the seas.” down to your shoulders, “each day that goes by without any sign of you.” across your chest and mounds, “to the thought of having you finally in my arms,” down to your stomach and deep scars, “with each grin of victory and pleading eyes of defeat on our battles,”down to your core and across your hands and fingers, “and to finally have you like this, all ready and waiting for me.” he licked his lips, eyes filled with sex and longing. “i’ve fantasized about you at a number i can never count.”

he then finally positioned himself, teasing the head of his member by your wet folds; satisfied by the whine he elicited from you. you felt how thick he was as he braced you for what you are about to take. you hitched your breath as the first stretch was ecstatic and left you breathless. kidd hooked one of your legs by his shoulders while his knee pried the other open, simultaneously bucking his hips forward that took your breath away.

kidd has this tendency to bury himself deep immediately upon entering, until it reaches the tip of your cervix. you choked out a moan, fisting the sheets at his actions. of course the bastard fucking grinned when he saw how his dick drove you stupid. it motivated him to push himself further to see how your eyes roll at the back of your head. 

“commodore gone dumb over my cock, eh?”

“b-bastard!” you clawed at his broad, well-endowed chest down to his toned abdomen. you can hardly garner your words, too overwhelmed at the incessant pounding on your lower half.

“hm? what is it, madam?” he raised a brow, your title rolling out of his tongue as something that used to hold so much respect yet he made it sound so degrading with the greedy look in his eyes and demeaning tone. 

the way he looked down at you made you feel vulnerable yet it left a sweet feeling on your tongue. that you are completely under his grasp, how he looks at you like he craves for you just as much as you crave him; like an animal in heat. his eyes reflected pure, carnal desire to viciously take over you, to have you see hearts and stars, to have you melt under him and continually want him just as he badly wants you.  “wanna tell me somethin’?”

“f-feels so good~” you squealed, trying to get a hold of yourself.

all the pent up tension and desire were finally released with each thrust, each smack on your ass, each graze of your nails by his skin, each swear word that you both evoke from the amount of pleasure you two are in right now. “that’s right.” he replied, voice gruff as his moans followed after it. “you feel just fuckin’ right, name.” 

once he started picking up the pace, there was no mercy from here on. the headboard was slamming against the wall, pillows were being knocked over from the force, the bed creaking from the unyielding and rapid pace of his hips, and your and his’ moans were almost deafening particularly the curses you and him uttered with each surge of pleasure on your lower halves.. there was no denying the fact that the crew heard both of you very well, loud and clear. the victoria soon got emptied, all of them tried to get far away from that god-forbidden room.

you looked up at him with half-lidded eyes, fingers brushing by his veiny arms as you reached for his cheek. in that silent moment, no words were spoken but you two felt your hearts tight against your chests for each other. he buried his face in the space between the mattress and your neck as his hips moved in a sinfully fast pace that drained all of the sanity left in you. his breath was hot against your ear as he muttered, “i’m so close.” 

his hips started to stutter and your throbbing core clenching around him as you both later reached your climax. it took a while for him to pull out of you, the two of you furiously panting and chasing your high to calm down after. his breath against your neck raised goosebumps on your skin as your chest heaved, trying to recover from the numbness of your lower half because goodness was his girth phenomenal. and for some reason, you two broke out of laughter as he plopped himself beside you. 

“goddamn.” you both said in unison. 

you looked to your side, admiring the domestic look of him. you sat up despite your throbbing lower half and got on top of him. his hands fixed on your hips as he admired how your features glowed from the dim light on his desk. “so are we gonna come out and keep up the façade or you gonna start acting like a man?”

“you see,” he propped himself up with his mechanical arm while his good arm was roaming the span of your skin. palms wandering about your tummy, your mounds which he squeezed on each harshly, to your neck where his entire palm wrapped around, and to your face where his hand lingered as he got lost in your eyes. “i want to have my treasures all to myself, i want what’s mine to be only mine.” he licked his lips, savoring the bare sight of you on his lap. his grip tightened by your hips, “now that i’ve got my hands on you, i can’t let anyone else have you, madam. and i gotta let the world know that.”

“greedy.” you replied, “keeping me all to yourself, huh?”

“now that i’ve known what it feels like to lose you, you bet your sweet fuckin’ ass that i’m never gonna let you go.” he pulled you closer by the small of your back and connected your lips once more. pulling on your hair as he bit at your lower lip to pry your mouth open, not getting enough of you. until midnight up to dawn, you two had stayed in that room with no contact from the outside. memorizing the splendor each other’s moans, each scars that made one another even more beautiful, each curve of your bodies, each other’s warmth and scent, and how your eyes’ shine from the pleasure of each other. 

OMG DON'T CANCEL ME FOR THE TRIBESPEOPLE PART I HAD TO MAINTAIN THE PIRACY ESSENCE T^T anywho this was so fun to makeeee kidd being humbled was a nice trope HIHIHI

[emelinstriker]

Thought I'd give you an update on the tomadachi life esau because it's been a trip so far. Azure had deemed Ao Lie his best friend, Wukong has yet to try and become friends with anyone but master (my oc there lol), Mac on the other hand has tried to confess to her everyday this week, Nezha tried to intervene today but my oc finally accepted macs confession. Mk and Ao Lie have just been vibing as all of this has happened and I just added mink to the batch. I've made multiple "masters" so that there's female variety but so far on the female popularity listing they've been stuck at zero while the og master my oc is at 120 point

Most of these sound canon to some degree ngl- hnhnfhnhfn

Also, just the mental image of Macaque trying to desperately get with Master feels absolutely canon for the Masters he's got actual interest in hnfgfhnhnfhn :'D

[fanfoolishness]

a rain that sounds like home (5/8)

After the destruction of Tantiss, the Bad Batch is safe at last. As Crosshair begins to recover from his injuries, it becomes apparent that not all of his scars are physical, and that guilt and grief are wounds that cut deeper than any blade. His family is determined to be there for him -- if only he can let them in.

Canon-compliant, focusing on PTSD, amputation recovery, and sibling grief, with plenty of whump, hurt/comfort, and emotional catharsis. Set shortly after the return from Tantiss and my fic Breaching the Wall. 43,000 words total.

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8

Chapter 5: Mistaken.

Crosshair searches for a place in the community, while Omega struggles with memories of Tantiss. Wrecker does his best to help them both. 5900 words, Crosshair and Omega POV.

---

“So what are you working on today?” Crosshair asked, taking a seat on the pier beside Wrecker.  He swung his legs over the side of the dock, letting them dangle in the warm water.  Sunlight sparkled on the surface.  Around them, villagers worked on their boats or prepared their catches for the market.  Wrecker had picked a dock slightly out of the way of the main hustle and bustle, and now he bent over the ropes in his lap, focusing hard with his tongue sticking slightly out of the corner of his mouth.

“I’m getting better at nets,” said Wrecker.  “It’s fun.  Kinda reminds me of timer munitions.  Wires and ropes, same thing, right?  It’s all about the pattern.”  His strong fingers gripped a complicated-looking needle, using it to twist patterns in the thin twine-like rope, strands hanging off a hoop.  Crosshair watched him for a few minutes, and even though he could easily see the steps, they didn’t make any sense.  The twine had no shape, but then suddenly, there was half a meter of net in Wrecker’s hands.

“You and your wires,” Crosshair said.  “They never made sense to me.  I’d rather take a good clean shot.”  

“Yeah, I know,” Wrecker said.  He kicked his feet, making splashes in the water below as he made another three loops in his net.  “I like this, though.  They don’t really need a lot of bombs here, so it’s nice to have somethin’ else to do.”  His face fell a little in disappointment, and Crosshair smiled faintly, thinking of Wrecker’s massive grins when an explosion went just right.

“I thought you could just wrestle the fish into submission,” Crosshair cracked.  “Do you really need a net?”

Wrecker laughed.  “Nah, not really.  But they do.”  He jerked a thumb behind him at some of the villagers, a couple working on repairing their small fishing boat.  “Empire did a lot of damage that night.  People are still working on fixing things.  Hell, there’s still some damage from the sea surge that needs fixing, and that was almost a year ago.  I might get to throw out a few booms for that if I’m lucky, but people need to eat more than they need stuff blasted out.”

Crosshair leaned back, gazing up at the sky.  Birds with long, spear-like bills and wide wingspans flew by in a slow stately line, and he watched them proceed, wondering what they were.  He could see startling details on them, even at this distance; a patch of skin on their throats flushing blue and violet, red-rimmed azure eyes, a sandy blonde ruff of feathers at the base of their necks.  

He thought back to what Wrecker had said.  “You and Hunter fit here.  It’s good for you.”

Wrecker gave him a curious look.  “You fit too, Cross.”  

Crosshair remembered the moving day party two weeks ago, Wrecker and Hunter easily mingling with the villagers while he skulked out on the patio.  “Not like you do.”

“You could.  All it is is talkin’ to people,” Wrecker said.  “Sometimes I can’t remember everyone’s names, but I’m good at faces!  And you could always ask Omega if you need to cheat.  She’s got everyone down.”  He held up his half-finished net, watching as the loose weave fluttered in the breeze, nodding in satisfaction.  “Looking for something to do?”

“Yes,” said Crosshair.  “We haven’t exactly ever had extra time.  I don’t know what to do with it.”  He scowled.   At first he’d spent his time cleaning up their small house or going on long walks, but it never took long to get the place tidy, and the walks were less appealing as he found himself trodding the same trails.  He was glad to spend time with his family when they were free, but Omega was now taking classes with the other children on the island, Hunter was deciding they should have a garden and was constantly working on that when he wasn’t picking up odd jobs, and Wrecker spent most of his time here down at the docks.

Everyone had found somewhere to be, besides him.

“Well, this is a good place to spend it,” said Wrecker.  “Another reason I like making nets?  It’s peaceful.  Kinda like Omega’s meditation, but not boring.”  He laughed.  “I tried with her once or twice, it just makes me fall asleep.”  He paused, giving Crosshair a knowing look.  “You still doing that?”

Crosshair looked away.  What would be the point now?  No hand, no tremor, no need.  Even though part of him missed those times he’d meditated with Omega, her calm breath mixing in his ears with the ocean waves, her encouragement meaning the world.  She’d asked him a few times since they came back, and he always turned her down, the question making him uneasy.  

He’d lost the battle he was trying to fight there.  No sense returning to the battlefield now.  He shook his head.

“Huh,” Wrecker said, almost looking disappointed.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Wrecker shrugged.  “I dunno.  Just -- seemed like it helped you, before.”

“And you’re saying I need help now?” Crosshair asked icily.

“Don’t get bent out of shape,” Wrecker said, resting his net in his lap.  “But….  Maybe.  You sleep like crap.  I know, because your bunk’s across from me.  And I know you like being on your own, but it kinda seems like you’re on your own the wrong way.  Not because you like it, but ‘cause it’s easier than being around other people.”  He shrugged again.  

“How very astute of you,” Crosshair said, anger shivering just beneath his words.  His eyes narrowed.  He knew Wrecker was trying to be helpful.  Maybe that was part of what made it so enraging.  I don’t need help!  And somewhere deep, deep inside, a faint thought: I don’t deserve help.  He slammed his fist down on the wooden dock, letting out a sharp huff of breath.

Wrecker held up his vast hands in supplication.  “Hey, told you not to get bent out of shape.”

“Just leave it alone, Wrecker.”

“All right, all right.”  Wrecker gave him a sly look, then suddenly swung his leg sharply through the water, creating a massive wave.  It splashed Crosshair up to his waist.  

“Wrecker!” he snarled, scrambling to his feet, water pouring off of his linen pants.  His toes squelched on the wet dock.  “Don’t be ridiculous.”

“What?” Wrecker asked innocently.  He burst out laughing, shaking his head.  “Ahhh Crosshair, you shoulda seen your face.”

“If you keep this up it’ll be the last face you ever see,” Crosshair spat.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah.”  He got to his feet, setting down his half-finished net.  “C’mon.  If you want something to do, lemme introduce you to Beryx.  She’s always got stuff she could use a hand with.”

“She had better only need one,” said Crosshair, raising his eyebrow.

Wrecker snorted out a laugh, then stopped himself, looking guilty.

“No, no, I was being funny,” Crosshair admitted.  “Go on and laugh.”

“Oh, okay!” Wrecker said, relieved.  “But uh… I don’t know when it’s okay to laugh about it, and when it isn’t.”

“Neither do I.  I’m making it up as I go,” Crosshair said honestly.  “Come on.  Let’s see this Beryx.  It’s better than standing around here waiting for my pants to dry.”  He briefly considered trying to shove Wrecker into the sea while he was thinking about whether or not it was okay to laugh at hand jokes yet, but decided against it.  This time.

Beryx was a stern, no-nonsense Kiffar woman in her senior years, with a striking purple facial tattoo and long white hair.  “Wrecker!  This your brother Crosshair?” she said in a voice that was clearly used to giving orders.

“Ha, what gave it away, Beryx?” Wrecker said.

“Between the clone resemblance and the crosshair tattoo, it was an easy guess,” she said drily.  “Good to meet you.  Now, you lookin’ for some work?”

Crosshair shrugged.  “Sure, if you’ve got something I can do.”  He held up his stump.

Beryx wasn’t phased.  “You look strong enough.  I mean, not like Wrecker here --”  She reached far up overhead, stretching to her tiptoes to cuff Wrecker on the shoulder.  He blushed.  “But I got a pile of fish for deliveries for the older folk, and those long legs look like they’d do just fine with the stairs.”

“They don’t get their fish at the market?” Crosshair asked, slightly relieved she hadn’t been thrown by his missing hand.  Deliveries should be easy enough.

“Ain’t always easy for them to leave the house, so we send the food to them.  Plus, they get a chance to visit with the delivery crew.  So I expect you to make a little chitchat with ‘em when you drop their orders off,” she said, lifting several cooling bags on straps.  “C’mere, bend down.”

He leaned down before he’d fully processed the rest of what she said.  “Chitchat?  That’s not --”

“He’ll be great!” Wrecker said cheerfully as Beryx slung several bags over his neck and shoulders.  He grunted slightly.  The old woman was much stronger than she looked, and the bags weren’t light.  He glanced down at them, spotting small readers on each one that said names and addresses.  

Crosshair sighed.  Well, he was the one who had come down here.  “I guess I’ll be back to drop these containers off after the delivery.”

“Just bring ‘em by before I head out for the day,” Beryx said.  “Much appreciate it.”

“Meet you up at the market for lunch after?” Wrecker said.  “Omega’ll be done with school by 1400.”  

“Sure,” Crosshair said, and much to his surprise, he found himself looking forward to it.  He straightened up, the bags rustling at his sides, and headed up to town.

---

“Chitchatting” with the elderly hadn’t been the way he’d planned to spend his day, but it was going much better than he had expected.

This time of day the sun was still pleasant instead of punishingly hot.  It was early enough in the morning that the wildlife of the island scampered around freely.  With Batcher hanging out with Hunter today, Crosshair’s keen eyes picked up small jeweled birds hovering in the glossy green shrubs, small rabbits ducking in and out of the shadows, a fish-hawk wheeling high overhead.  The fish-hawk was white and black with striking markings and a piercing golden eye, and he watched it for a moment at a rise on the stairs before remembering where he was heading next.

His first stop was to a tiny Twi’lek woman bent with age, her soft accented speech difficult to understand.  Marhee Narjin took her delivery with a wide smile, asking him inside to help her put away the food.  Her little home, which seemed to be the same general structure as their own, was full of art on every surface, paintings, decorations on the walls, small canvases stacked in every corner, art supplies overflowing.  A curious painted wooden sculpture of many small pieces, shaped somewhat like an upside down trill in Aurebesh, stood in pride of place in the alcove in her wall.  The same place Omega had laid down Tech’s goggles.  He wondered what it was, why it was important, but did not ask.

She chattered brightly to him as he helped her put away the fish.  Asked his name.  Asked his age, then looked astounded when he gave it to her.  Asked if he had fought in the war, seeing his wrist.  When he told her haltingly that he had, she shook her head, sighing.  “Ah, Ryloth, how I miss it!  It was a beautiful world before the war.”

Crosshair frowned, ashamed.  He’d been to Ryloth twice… once on the right side, once with the Empire.  He gritted his teeth, tried to say something reassuring.  “It’s still a beautiful world.  I… I saw an eclipse there, once.”  He and Tech had been the only ones to see it, and it still gave him goosebumps to remember the shadowed sun, Tech’s look of awe.  “It was incredible.”

She gave him a sweet, tremulous grin.  “The last eclipse on Ryloth I saw was well before you were born.  It was a holy thing.  I am glad you were able to see it, Crosshair.”  She sighed happily.  “Thank you for helping me.”

“Can I ask you something?” Crosshair asked suddenly.

“Of course.”

“Why do you paint?”  He tried to find the right words for the question.  “What is it for?”

Marhee looked at him, thunderstruck.  “Why, I paint because I must.  It is who I am.”  She gestured to the colorful paintings in the kitchen of flowers around the island, seascapes, a silver fish with sparkling scales.  “It is how I see the world.”  She looked at him curiously.  “Sometime, when you do not have many bags of fish to deliver, come by.  I would like to paint you.  You might understand then.”  

“Paint… me?  Why?” he asked, taken aback.

“Because you are a clone, one of many, and yet different, one and alone.  A curious dichotomy for an artist to explore!” she said in delight.  “But I mustn’t keep you.  Go on, until we meet again.”

“I -- all right --” he sputtered.  She ushered him back out and he shook his head, trying to understand what that had been about.  

But she’d been kind and her paintings had been beautiful.  He’d been able to see every brushstroke in the paintings, every varied hue, the way the layered paint formed a luminous shimmer on some pieces.  He thought Wrecker would have particularly liked the fish.  

He remembered Hunter’s gardening attempts.  He’d never tried drawing -- Hunter had done all the motifs on their armor, aside from Wrecker’s helmet -- but they did have time to try new things now.  Huh.  

His other deliveries went smoothly.  An elderly pair of humans invited him in for a cup of caf and to meet their lothcat, Mr. Tibbins, a creature they proudly told him only went out on a leash so as to not harass the local wildlife.  Mr. Tibbins looked as if he might have other ideas, but he tolerated the elderly couple pinning his leash on him for a stroll after they’d put away the fish.  Crosshair ignored the creature, but the lothcat promptly waltzed over to him and clambered into his lap, purring furiously and shedding all over him.

An old Abednego gave him a pair of cookies for his trouble and mused at him about the latest jizz album.  He played a few songs for Crosshair, and he had to admit they were pretty catchy, though he wasn’t exactly going to go as far as the Abednego, who listened for half a song and then got up and started dancing with the aid of his cane.

Two human sisters insisted he join them for a morning pick-me-up, which turned out to be a fiery amber liqueur.  He took one sip and nearly spat it out, his head swimming almost instantly.  What the hell they were drinking, he had no idea, and wanted no part of it.  He hid his tiny glass behind their seasoning shaker and made an excuse to go to the next delivery, managing to evade detection until he got outside.  His head felt floaty for a good half an hour after that stop.

His last stop was coming up, and the midday sun was beginning to swing high.  After climbing up and down the stairs -- probably making a few wrong turns, as he was still getting the hang out of how the island was organized into neighborhoods -- his stomach was growling.  The two cookies and the caf had long since burned off.  It’d be good to meet Wrecker and Omega for lunch and tell them of the morning. 

Maybe they already knew the artist and her work.  He kept thinking of the vivid colors in her home, lush fuschias, greens in a dozen shades, phantasmagoric midnight blues.  

Maybe there was a market stall with some beginner art supplies he could investigate.

He climbed up to the last corner home on this stretch of lower Pabu, stretching his neck as he went.  He glanced at the order, an assortment of fish for Eenta Bogin.  The old man was sitting on his patio, looking half-asleep.  Crosshair approached cautiously with a clearing of his throat, and the old man sat up straight and looked around, squinting through clouded eyes.

“Oh!  Oh, are you bringing the fish?” he asked, shading his eyes with one hand.  “Why, that’s mighty kind of you.”  He got to his feet, shuffling slowly from the patio to the front door.  Crosshair reached out instinctively, offering his left arm, and the old man held onto it with surprising strength.  

“Thank you, young man.”  Eenta glanced up at him as they entered his home, looking puzzled, then shook his head.  “The kitchen is this way.  What did Beryx send?”

“Looks like… a few bar jack, a pair of reefcrawlers and a mora,” Crosshair said, riffling through the last of the fish.  “Good variety.”

“What’s your favorite?  I’m partial to mora, myself.”

“Same here.  It’s got the best flavor.”  He pulled out the packages of cold fish, helping the old man get them into his conservator, rearranging some of the other food until they found the right order.

“Well!  Very good,” Eenta said, smiling.  “You know, it took me a moment to remember you, young man.”  He narrowed his hazy eyes at Crosshair, focusing.

“I don’t think we’ve met,” said Crosshair uncertainly.  Maybe he had come to the moving day party?  Many villagers had stopped through during the day.  Though he suspected Eenta didn’t exactly have the mobility to stop by for a quick visit to a party.

“No, no, I remember now,” said Eenta in a warm voice.  “The sea surge!  Your big brother Wrecker scooped me up like a sack of tubers and hauled me on out of here.  Good thing he did, too!  And you and Miss Phee were so handy with those ladders.”

“I don’t --”

“But you look a little different than I remember.  Changed your hair, I think.”  He frowned, kind concern in every line of his aged face, his rheumy eyes squinted in concentration.  “Are you getting enough to eat, Tech?”

Crosshair froze.

His heart felt like it stuttered, then stopped.

“Tech?” the old man asked, his voice faltering.

“That’s -- I’m not --”  He struggled to get the words out.  “Enjoy the fish,” he choked out, and he fled through the front door.

There was a buzzing in his ears, a roaring, prickling thing that he faintly realized was his own pulse.  It thrummed.  It thrummed.  He stood there blinking slowly in the blinding sun, trying to remember how to breathe.

---

Omega waited near the weeping maya, looking around for Wrecker.  She’d had a busy day at the island school, her mind spinning with galactic history today.  Her brothers had taught her so much since she’d left Kamino, but it was almost always practical, survival-based.  She’d needed every scrap of what they’d given her, but now she was hearing about other things, too; old stories, historic events, learning about different peoples and languages.  She let out a long breath.  Tech would have liked these lessons, she knew; maybe he would have compared them to what they had learned on Serenno.

But Hunter and Wrecker and Crosshair made surprisingly good listeners.  She’d talked their ears off every day for the past week with the stories she’d heard about Jedi in the High Republic and the great hyperspace disaster.  She and Lyana made up their own stories, wondering what it would have been like to use the Force, Omega picturing Asajj’s powers mixed with heroic adventures around the galaxy.  The disappointment she’d felt after Asajj had left had long since faded, but she still liked to imagine if things had been different.

She missed the Tantiss children a lot on days like this.  Senator Chuchi, Echo, and Emerie had been hard at work, and Sami, Jax and Eva had all been reunited with their families and relocated.  Only giggly Bayrn remained with his foster family, still working on trying to learn his first word.  Omega wondered what they would have thought of the stories.  Between what Omega knew of Tantiss and Emerie’s information, she had a pretty good idea of why the children had been held there, and it made her gut twist to think of how long they’d stayed there before she came to them.

She took a deep breath.  

It was a good day.  She didn’t want to think about Tantiss right now.  Didn’t want to think about it ever again.

She sat down on one of the weeping maya’s roots, picking at the bark with her fingernails.  

Crosshair and Hunter limping beside her, both of them panting, injured, exhausted -- the shuttle waiting, all of them making one final run for it -- Hunter and Crosshair collapsing into the seats beside Wrecker, their faces pale and grimacing -- Crosshair’s bandage soaked with blood --

She shuddered, trying not to think about that moment -- or the moment she first realized Crosshair had lost his hand -- or the moment she saw the wound on Wrecker’s chest -- or how Hunter’s hand in hers had shook with pain, all the way to the shuttle --

Omega took a deep breath.  Tried to focus on the fact that they were all home and safe again.  

Her eyes welled with unexpected tears.  Not all of them.  Echo had barely stopped to rest before leaving them again… and Tech would never come home.

Her previous good mood suddenly sank like a stone.

This kept happening, since they’d come back.  She didn’t know why.  Everything should be better now!  She balled up her fist in frustration and took another deep breath.  

In, and out.

In, and out.

She crossed her arms over her chest as Wrecker spotted her from across the way, waving with one hand.  He closed the distance to meet her, bringing with him a large tray of fish and rice.  

“Hey, kid.  Ready for lunch?”  He glanced around.  “No Crosshair yet?”

“No.  Crosshair’s coming?”  She smiled a little, her mood lifting slightly.  He’d been eating on his own a lot lately, skipping dinner or breakfast.  It’d be good to see him, especially up here out and about.  

“I told him to meet us here,” said Wrecker uncertainly.  “Since when am I on time?”

“Hey, anyone can change, right?” Omega asked with a grin.

He chuckled.  “Good point, kid.  Well, I vote we dig in.  We can always get more when he shows up.”

They ate together beneath the soft green foliage of the tree above, the sweet scent of its flowers a gentle perfume carried on the breeze.  Omega told Wrecker some more of her Jedi stories, and he shared a few of his own -- a general called Skywalker, one named Kenobi.  They talked for a good while, and Omega wondered how Gungi was doing, if he was able to keep up with his training on Kashyyyk.

She must have been hungrier than she’d thought, or Wrecker had snuck extra portions when she wasn’t looking, but when she reached down for another scoop of rice and fish she realized they’d nearly eaten through the whole tray.

“Wrecker?  I thought you said Crosshair was coming?” she asked.

He frowned, glancing up toward the sun, judging the time.  “He shoulda been here by now.  He’s never this late.”

“When did you see him?”

“Down by the docks.  He was taking up a load of deliveries for Beryx.  He shoulda been done… shoot, at least an hour ago,” Wrecker guessed.  He sighed.  “Must’ve changed his mind again.”

“He keeps doing that,” said Omega sadly.  “I asked him to meditate again with me yesterday, but he turned me down.”  She rested her chin in her hands, thinking hard.  She remembered how it felt on the bridge, Crosshair’s wounded arm resting on her shoulders.  “Is he going to be okay, Wrecker?  With his hand?”

Wrecker opened his mouth.  “‘Course he is.  At least… that’s what I wanna think.”  He looked down at his hands.  “But I don’t know, Omega.  Guess none of us do.”  

“I hate not knowing,” she admitted. 

Wrecker looked like he was deep in thought, trying to figure out what to say to her.  At last he said,  “He’s tough, our Crosshair.  But -- don’t tell him I said this, got it?  He’s, uh, he’s tender, too.  You know?”

“Secret’s safe with me,” she said, smiling.  “I think I know what you mean.”  That sounded right -- like the brother she knew from Tantiss, coldly trying to convince her to leave without him; and the brother she knew from Pabu, desperately trying to keep her safe.  She swallowed her bite, then halfheartedly put together another one.  It seemed to take forever to chew.  

“I think more ‘n anything, he just needs some time, I guess,” said Wrecker.  “AZI keeps trying to give him options.  Prosthetics and stuff.  Maybe it would help?  I don’t know.  Echo always seemed okay with just his scomp, though…”

“I was talking with Mrs. Mikkels yesterday,” Omega mused.  “You know, the tailor?  She lost her hand a long time ago.  She said she likes using her mechanical hand for work, but at home when she wants to relax, she takes it off, because it never quite felt like her real one.  I never thought about it like that.  I guess there’s lots of options.  I hope Crosshair can find something that works for him.  Or maybe he won’t want one, and that’s okay too.”  

She fell silent, and they held the quiet for a beat until the words snuck out of her.  “I’m worried about him.”  She knew what Crosshair would say if she told him so.  I’m fine, maybe with a toothpick flicked her way for good measure.  But he’d always been a bad liar.

“Yeaaaah, me too.”

“He seems like he’s closing up again somehow,” said Omega.  “It’s not just his hand, is it?”

Wrecker put his arm around her.  “No,” he admitted.  “Seeing Tantiss again… he was in a bad way, even before he got hurt.”  He shook his head, swallowing.  “Never seen him like that.  Maybe he’s still carryin’ that around.”

Like what? she almost asked, but decided she didn’t need to know.  Didn’t want to know, unless Crosshair wanted to tell her.  Omega wiped at her eyes.  “He went back there for me.  It must have been so hard for him.  You don’t know what it was like there.  He was so… empty.  He thought he deserved to be there.”

“But he came back and he faced it.  Like I said -- tough,” Wrecker said, his voice tinged with pride.  He smiled down at her.  “Like his sister.”

Omega laughed, even though things felt so heavy.  “That’s true.  All of us are.”  She leaned against her brother, grateful beyond words to rest against his broad, safe shoulder.  “I’m so glad we won, Wrecker.  That we got the clones and the kids out.  That we really, really hurt the Empire, and they won’t be able to find me, ever again.  But -- but I feel so sad, too.  I don’t understand.”

“What kind of sad, kid?” Wrecker asked gently.

“I dunno.  Lots of kinds.”  She stared down at her lap.  A cool afternoon breeze fluttered by, carrying with it the sweet smell of flowers.  “I knew you’d all come for me, I wasn’t scared about that.  Crosshair and I had a plan, and it worked, right?  But -- being back there again --”  She shivered, trying to forget the empty walls of her little cell in the Vault, Hemlock’s cold soft voice, the feel of the cuff on her wrist.  The bruises had faded weeks ago, but she rubbed her wrist, feeling their echo.

Wrecker was giving her a sad, almost guilty look.  She scrunched up her face in confusion.  “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” he said hastily.  He patted her on the shoulder.  “I’m just sorry you had to go back there.  I know we were out of options.”  He let out a long breath.  

“Yes,” she said, though she wondered why he’d gotten that guilty look.  She sighed.  “I just feel some days like it’s still there.  Tantiss.  Even when we’re here, and everything’s so much better…”  She closed her eyes, snuggling against his side, and he rested his large strong arm around her, protective and gentle both.  She breathed in; breathed out.  Tried not to think about looking out at the jungle, night after night, wondering if she would ever see her brothers again.  It didn’t seem fair that she still had to think about it when they’d won, when they’d torn it stone from stone.

She tried to remind herself that everything was different now.  Not just different from how it had been on Tantiss, but before, too, when she had been alone on Kamino.  

Once, she’d been lonely every day, Nala Se mostly consumed in her work, no one else around for company except, briefly, her baby brothers.  For a little while they’d been scarcely smaller than her. Yet before they were old enough to remember her they were gone, whisked off with the other cadets; and she was alone again, a freak, an oddity, a bad batch of one.  

But here, now, she had brothers.  Brothers who hugged her and made her dinner and stayed up late with her if she had trouble sleeping; brothers who’d risked their lives for her, Tech who’d given his life for all of them, brothers she was so lucky to have.  She had the cadets Wrecker and Hunter had found, the other clones she’d met through Rex and Echo and in Tantiss, brothers and friends in a different way; she had Lyana, Shep, Phee.  And when she didn’t want to talk to anyone else, when she needed to be alone but not alone, there were Batcher and Gonky.  They had so much here.  She had so much.

She blinked back tears again, looking up at her brother, annoyed at her watery eyes.  “Sorry,” she said.  “It’s just -- everything.”

“I hear ya, kid.”  He pressed a kiss to the top of her head, and she giggled.  

“Want to go back home?  Maybe Crosshair’s already there.”

“Sure.”

---

Batcher found him as the sun was setting.  Crosshair slid off his perch on a large rock near the water’s edge, feet landing in the sand.  “If you’re looking for dinner, you won’t find it here,” he told her.  She just panted, wagging her tiny tail, and nudged him in the leg with her great head.  

“You were looking for me.  Huh.”  A thread of guilt uncurled within him.  He’d promised to meet Wrecker and Omega for lunch, which had been and gone hours back.  But instead he’d made his way back to the docks in a blur, dumped off the delivery containers, and made his way here to the hidden cave.

He knew he’d been here for hours.  The last brilliance of the orange-red sun lining the horizon was more than enough of a cue, let alone the thirst on his tongue and his growling stomach.  But he hadn’t been able to move more than enough to stand up now and then and skip stones into the flowing water, watching them sink.  Inevitably he had tired of that and had gone back to sitting, until he got so restless he had to stand and pace and throw again.  His aim with his left was getting better, but still nothing like his right had been.

Batcher rumbled one of her little noises that meant she wanted to go.  He sighed, following her obediently as the dusk deepened and the sky shifted from blues and violets to space-deep blacks.  

“Did one of them send you after me?” he asked, fully aware of the absurdity of asking the question.  She trotted along the rocky shore and into the sandy reaches, panting as he came along behind her.

He let out a long, shaky breath.  The old man’s face swam back into his mind, confused and kind and yet so certain his name was --

He picked up the pace, jogging along the hound, welcoming the exertion and the way his heart rate rose.  The breeze sheared past him, cold at first, then pleasantly cool as he ran.  He could try to think about his breath.  Try to think about his footsteps in the sand.  Try to think of his arms pumping, the right arm moving more swiftly with the lighter weight.  Try to think about anything but --

He shook his head, growling, furious at being back there again.  He couldn’t shake it.  Couldn’t shake the sound of Tech’s name in the old man’s voice.  Couldn’t stop thinking about Kamino, how sometimes their trainers would mix up him and Tech before his hair turned silver, before Tech needed the goggles.  He thought about Tech’s face, once a mirror to his own, and he burst forward, the breath tearing itself from his lungs as he reached the beachside stairs.

He slammed to a stop, folding himself in half, left hand gripping his knee, right arm tight against his thigh.  He panted in the night air, his chest searing like a wound.  He couldn’t catch his breath.  He choked, trying to find it, trying to stop the panic clawing out of him, but all he could do was stand there gasping.

Batcher turned, leaning her heavy head against his leg, and he reached out to cling to her as if she was the last bit of dry land in a churning sea.  Gradually his breathing slowed to a ragged rhythm, Omega’s meditation distant and impossible, lost to him now.  He pressed the hound closer to him, taking in gulps of cool air, blinking back the water in his eyes.

“Come on,” he managed.  “Time to go home.”

They took the stairs slowly, following the strings of solar lamps strung along the path, and eventually the lights of their little home appeared around the bend.  He swallowed, looking at their little home, seeing glimpses of Hunter, Wrecker and Omega through the windows.  It looked like they were having dinner.  Probably talking about their days.  Normal things for a normal life.  He wondered what that was like.

The door slid open for him.  He nodded slightly to his siblings, sitting at the dinner table.

“Crosshair!” Omega said.  She took a look at him, face scrunching into a frown.  “You didn’t come up for lunch.  Are you okay?”

“Yeah, you had us worried, Cross,” said Wrecker.  Hunter looked at him curiously, waiting for his response.

“The deliveries went long,” he lied.  “It’s easy to get turned around.  I’ll make it for lunch next time.”

Wrecker and Omega glanced at each other, clearly not convinced.  His stomach clenched, readying for a confrontation --

“Well, join us for dinner at least,” Hunter said before the others could ask more questions.  He gestured to a serving bowl of greens and vegetables.  “Give this a try.  I think I’m going to plant some in the garden.”

“Oh.  Uh, all right,” Crosshair said, the tension draining out of him.  He was safe from another round of questioning.  He clung to the rescue gratefully, grabbing a plate with his left hand.  

“Come on, try some.  It’s better than it looks,” Wrecker said.

“Yeah,” Omega said, giving him a smile, though it didn’t quite reach her eyes.  “Pull up a chair.”

“Let’s see just how edible this is,” he said.  He took his seat beside them to try some dinner, and Tech’s face receded into the background, at least for a little while.

[spectrechosts]

If Anything Could Ever Be This Good Again - Chapter 5

The Shining Rangers are splintered, and a new team rises from the ashes.

Full Series

Tara dropped a handful of gems into a big cardboard box with a satisfying clink.

"Okay," She said, "That's Canary, Flamingo, Peacock, and Tangerine."

"Huh. Lotta birds in that batch." Said Phoebe, crossing them out on a checklist and looking over a wall of plans. "That rounds out the yellows and pinks."

"And blues."

"What? There should be one more blue besides Azure."

"…You, babe. You're the last one."

"Oh. Right. Then all we're missing is three reds, one more orange, two purples, two greens, and Azure herself." Phoebe said, capping a marker.

"Any leads?" Tara asked, handing her a cup of coffee.

"Nope." Phoebe said, taking the cup in both hands and sipping from it. "Azure hasn't been seen in almost two weeks, HQ is abandoned, Rangers aside from that group you just got have been operating independently if at all."

Tara wrapped her arms around her and rested her chin on her head.

"You know, I don't think I could ever have done this without you."

"My girl says she wants the Shining Rangers destroyed, the Shining Rangers get destroyed."

"How chivalrous. But I mean it, I was just lashing out before I had you on my side and now- Now you have plans, you're like calculating and methodical and-"

"Cold?" Phoebe asked, smiling.

"I wasn't going to say it. Now it's like, we're actually going to do this. And once they're gone we're gonna have like, a better magical girl team. One that tries to fix problems instead of just being cops."

"I'm still not entirely sure how we're going to get that team made. We'll need someone else to get it started, our identities aren't exactly secret. And I think you could have figured out 'stealing their gems so they can't come back later' eventually."

"Mm, I have my moments of brilliance." Tara said. "But while we're on that part of your planning, what uh, what are we doing with them? Because the box is pretty heavy now and I don't know if it's great to just, have a bunch of dubious magical power sources under our bed."

"Hmm. I wanted to save the next step until we had them all, but the stragglers could take a while to round up, and someone could just come take them all back. Maybe we should just deal with the box now and any other gems we pick up we'll figure out as we get them.

"Sounds good to me."

"Ehhhhhhhh yeah fuck it, let's do this."

"Cool. What's the plan?"

~

"This is the plan?" Tara said, shivering in the winter night air of the construction site they had snuck into.

"It's the best I could think of." Phoebe said. "I don't want to risk destroying them, and I don't want anyone finding them."

"So we're just… dumping them in a big hole?"

"Not any big hole. We're dumping them where they're about to lay the foundation for a skyscraper. I saw it in an episode of Columbo, they're gonna be under tonnes of concrete that nobody can dig up without permits."

"Did Columbo dig it up?"

"Well- yes, but he's Columbo. Nobody's gonna dig these up. They have no reason to even think anything is down there."

"Okay, so let's dump 'em"

"Well, hang on." Phoebe said. "We should… Say something? This is a big deal, this is like, the end. We do this and there's no chance of the Shining Rangers ever recovering."

"Okay, um... you go first."

Phoebe thought for a moment. "The Shining Rangers were a bunch of psuedo-cop mean girls, and this city will be better off without them. I don't know where these gems came from, and I guess I never will, but I know that they're more trouble than they're worth. I blame them entirely for all the harm I caused to innocent people after mine broke, and I think that no matter how many villains there are we'll all be safer with them entombed in this pit."

Tara nodded.

"That was nice." She said. "The Shining Rangers suck ass, these gems suck ass, I hope Azure shows up so I can drag her to Venus and leave her there."

"That's all you have to say?"

"Yup. Fuck alllllllllllll of this."

"Okay. Dump it."

Tara upturned the box into the pit, dozens of gemstones disappearing into the depths.

"Hm. Feels anticlimactic."

Phoebe shrugged.

"Azure's still out there, we don't know what she's up to." She said. "I'm gonna find someplace to hide out until this gets filled in, make absolutely sure. You can go wait at home."

"I'll stay, we can wait together." Tara said, stuffing her hands into her pockets for warmth.

"Tara, I'm going to be cold either way. You can go get warm."

"I'll live, babygirl. C'mon."

~

15 months later

"You're not listening to me, I'm telling you that those two are known supervillains!"

"Okay, miss Azure, I don't know who you think Guardians Synth-Metal and Coldwave are-"

"Look at the photos!"

"I'm looking, they don't look that similar in my opinion. Now I know you don't want to hear it but-"

"They look the SAME!"

"-But, the Shining Rangers are no longer recognized by the International Magical Girl Association as the protective force of this municipality-"

"But those two are-"

"Miss, those two saved several busses full of children from a volcano that appeared under their school yesterday morning. Even if I did believe you, which I don't, why would I want to stop them?"

"I- But- But they're villains!" Azure whined.

"And if they do anything villainous, we'll take care of it. Until then, this is Musical Guardian turf and we don't appreciate you harassing our members."

"But-"

"Grindcore, please get her out of here."

"Wh- Jet? Jet you know me! You know I'm right!" She protested, as Musical Guardian Grindcore escorted her from the building. "This isn't over!"

All was quiet at the Musical Guardian front desk, and then once they were sure she was gone Phoebe and Tara poked their heads out from a doorway.

"Thanks for getting rid of her, Hyperpop." Phoebe said.

"No problem." Said Hyperpop. "You guys off to try and talk to the Mushroom Monarch again?"

"Regrettably yes." Tara sighed. "She should've sprouted up a few hours ago, she'll be making her move anytime now."

"I have pamphlets on the environmental benefits of fungal composting at the municipal level!" Phoebe said, eyes sparkling. "This time she'll listen."

"Mm. I see why Azure is so afraid of you two." Hyperpop said, scrolling on her phone.

"I still don't get why we don't deal with her ourselves." Complained Tara.

"Because we're already in an incredibly precarious legal position." Said Phoebe. "Killing people who annoy us undercuts our whole 'nonviolent criminal reform' thing."

"But baaaabe. Just think about it: Venus."

[alparlaboratories]

To Another Abyss - Prologue: Saffron's Child

(Chapters -which are usually between 500-1000 words- will be posted daily here first on Tumblr, and will later be posted in 7-8 chapter batches on AO3.)

-

Synopsis: Kanto has changed a lot in the past ten years. The League is no more, and trainers are now only tools for the rich and powerful, either mercenaries or dogs of the government.

Sabrina is the latter. She is to play the role of Gym leader in a sick, twisted mockery of the art she once admired, bearing the name of her childhood idol, a woman who is now wanted across the region. All for the entertainment of Kanto's shadowy new rulers.

It's a role she doesn't mind playing. At least until an unusual challenger comes into her Gym, into the life she's worked so hard to build, and begins to unravel it all.

-

Prologue: Saffron's Child

Two trainers stood across from each other within a large steel cage, seizing each other up. The one on the far right was a short, black-haired girl wearing a black beanie and a hoodie, holding a lit cigarette in her lips.

Pinching the back with her fingers, she began to speak.

"I suppose you know the rules, though I don't mind repeating them," she said with a cold, dispassionate voice. "Three against three; you can use your Pokemon in any way you wish as long as you don't have more than one out at the same time."

She took a slow drag of the cigarette as she backed up toward a small table inside the cage. Atop rested a handful of cardboard boxes, each filled with Pokeballs of different colors.

"The leader, that would be me, will use random Pokemon from these boxes." She pointed at them, looking bored. "They haven't been raised by me nor do I care about their well-being, so don't expect me to go easy on you."

She closed her eyes for a moment, throwing the cigarette to the ground and stomping on it.

"You can try to kill me to win, and in fact I recommend you do. I'm not allowed to kill any challengers. Too much paperwork, you see. But then again…"

Her eyes set on her opponent, a cold, boundless abyss behind them.

"Accidents do happen."

High above the arena, two men sat next to each other on the spectator seats. One of them was somewhere in his forties, smoking a pipe as he stared down with something akin to boredom.

"Is that the new Gym Leader?" he asked. "Could’ve mistaken her for a guy. Is she any good?"

The young man next to him crossed his arms and replied with a soft, chilling voice.

"Well… her physical strength is terrible, her attitude is abysmal and she urgently needs someone to take her down a peg," he listed with a strange calmness. "However… her skill in Pokemon battles is something you don't see every day. And most importantly: she doesn't ask questions."

"And what's her name?"

The young man smiled, turning to look at his associate. His features were soft and handsome, and he wore an all black uniform with a single white triangle badge on his chest. His hair was straight and soft though somewhat overgrown, mostly light brown except for the single tuft which covered his right eye, which was a deep azure. His eyes were bi-colored, the same two as his hair.

"She doesn't have a name anymore,” answered the man, the corners of his lips quirking up into the shadow of a smile. "From now on she's simply... Sabrina."