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arc-misadventures · 11 months ago

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An Offer You Won’t Refuse

Jaune: Why can’t you guys believe me when I say I got laid?

SN: Because it’s you.

Jaune: Haaaa… Assholes.

The person complaining that his roommates couldn’t believe he had sex was one, Jaune Luna Arc. A first year college student majoring in business. While his collage roommate’s doubting the fact that he had sex were a blonde hair monkey faunas named, Sun Wukong, and their friend the blue haired self proclaimed ‘ladies man’ named, Neptune Vasilias.

The duo had dragged, Jaune to a bar with the intent of, ‘picking up some ladies.’ And, where he had actually managed to score a night with a beautiful lady, they had failed to get anything. And, because of this they doubted that he got anything. Actually, now that he’s thinking about it…

Jaune: You guys are just jealous I spent a night with a lady, while the only thing you guys got was a pair of matching black eyes.

Jaune’s remark was a very accurate statement of fact that after he come from an enjoyable one-night stand he came back to see the pair with ice packs over their eyes.

Sun: Not true!

Neptune: I would have totally banged that chick! If her boyfriend didn’t arrive…

Jaune: Yeah, that’s why you didn’t get any.

Neptune: Hey man, you just don’t understand the art, of seduction~!

Jaune: The what?

Sun: The art of seducing a woman~!

Jaune: And, that is?

Neptune: We’re falcons pal…

Sun: Falcons~!

Neptune: You can’t just send us out when a pretty girls is there, and expect us to capture her now can you?

Sun: That’s not how we falcons fly.

Neptune: We gotta fly high, and scope out the prey, and when we find our mark we’ll swoop in for the kill. We just can’t go in, and steal the girl on command now can we?

Sun: It’s an art, Jaune. You wouldn’t understand it.

Jaune just looked at the duo as he was forced to comprehend the dumbest thing he had yet heard, and considering the people who he hung around that was something.

Jaune: What the hell are you two talking about?! Yes you can send a falcon out on command to hunt its prey! There’s an entire sport based around it: Falconry!

Sun: Eh?

Neptune: Beg pardon?

Jaune: It’s like one of the oldests sports out there! People are still doing it to this day! Hell, people have been using falcons, and hawks to take down drones!

Neptune: That’s not true… right?

Sun: Oh shit, they actually use hawks to take down drones.

Neptune: Wait really?!

Jaune: Haa… if hitting on girls was like hitting the broadside of a barn, you lot couldn’t hit it with a, Javelin missile.

Sun: I couldn’t do that!

Neptune: Guns scare me!

Jaune dropped his head as he sighed at the duo’s stupidity, or more accurately their ignorance.

Although stupidity is a more adept description the pair. The duo would offer a drowning man a drink thinking he’s not drowning, just really thirsty.

Jaune: A Javelin missile is an rpg with an auto-lock feature. Not a gun.

Neptune: There’s a difference?

Jaune: Haa… you see this is why I don’t invite you to play, Arma with my clan.

Neptune: Well we may not know the difference between… weapons…? But, that still doesn’t mean you had sex with a girl.

Jaune: Guys, it’s been two weeks since we went to the bar, can we just drop it, and move…

“Knock, knock, knock.”

Jaune: On…?

Jaune stopped talking in his tracks as he heard a knocking upon the door. He looked at the pair while pointing his finger at the door.

Jaune: We’re you…?

The pair shook their heads, and shrugged their shoulders. They weren’t expecting anyone to come visit them. Like anyone would anyway.

Jaune just shrugged his shoulders as he walked over, and opened the door, he was met with several individuals dressed in black suits with tinted shades hiding their face. The quartet seemed to be watching around them to see if anyone was coming.

Jaune was worried they were a hit squad coming to make get their mark. He could only cower as he wondered whose girl, Neptune pissed off that they would put a mark on him. But, that thought swiftly died as he started at the woman between what actually were four bodyguards. For it was not someone he expected to meet again. He never thought she would grace his presence with her beauty ever again.

With flowing ashen white hair cascading down her elegant shoulders. Draped in a tapestry of fine jewelry of silver, sapphires, and ruby’s. A red gown that displayed a fair amount of her sizeable cleavage, as a dark coat hung lazily off her shoulders. But, what drew, Jaune in the most were those red tinted glasses, that hid a pair of striking vibrant red eyes that he lost himself in.

It was the lady from his one night stand. A woman, Jaune would never forget until death took him.

Jaune: S-Salem?!

Salem: Hello, Ar… no. Hello, Jaune. You’re looking well.

Jaune: Thank you! Y-You’re looking fantastic. But, uhh… why are you here? You said after our… night together that it would be just a one time thing, and we would never see each other again. And, yet here you are.

Salem: And, yet here I am…

Jaune could barely see, Salem’s eyes because they blended beautifully with her glasses, but he could tell by the way her body was seemingly twitching that she was nervous. He was about to ask her whats wrong, but then his roommates happened.

Sun: Holy hell?! You actually had sex?!

Neptune: Damnmmm! She is smoking hot! How much did she cost you? Eh, eh?!

Salem could tell by his teasing manner upon which the blue boy spoke he was joking with, Jaune. But, to insinuate that she was a call girl?! Maybe she should let her associates teach this child some manners.

But before, Salem could give the command, Jaune held a single finger up, silently asking for a moment before shutting the door. She was wondering what was going on, but then she heard a loud thud as if something had fallen over. As the door soon reopened to reveal the smiling face of, Jaune Arc. She could see behind him the form of the blue haired boy, groaning in pain as he clutched his groin.

Salem shot, Jaune a small smile from the corner of her lips, and he just waved it off as if it was nothing.

Jaune: So… What bring you to our humble abode?

Salem: I need to discuss something with you of the utmost importance.

Jaune: Okay, what is it?

Salem’s eyes darted around as if she was trying to find the words to speak before she returned his gaze.

Salem: This would be a discussion best help in private.

Jaune nodded his head as he told his friends to scram. The blond monkey nodded his head as he pulled his friend, who was in the fetal position whilst still clutching his privates on the floor out the room. As soon as they were out of the room, Jaune stood aside allowing, Salem to enter his dorm room.

Salem: Thank you for allowing me… in…?

Salem’s thought process stopped in its tracks rather abruptly. She was going to tell him something important, but as she took in the absolute state of, Jaune’s apartment her mind did a reset, and was the midst of a reboot as she processed this, ‘mess.’

Jaune was about to ask her if something was wrong, then he saw where her eyes were going, and he sighed in understanding.

Jaune: Yeah its a…

Salem: A pig sty?

Jaune: That’s an… apt description.

Jaune’s apartment was an absolute mess: Wrappers, and empty bottles strewn across the place. Half finished take out boxes laying across every table in sight. Clothes from teeshirts to underwear draped all over the furniture. But, there was one thing that was most damning of all that was the crown jewel of this pig sty.

Salem: I-Is that a banana peel on the lamp shade?

Jaune: Haa… Gods dammit, Sun…

Jaune looked over, and groaned in disgust as he grabbed a bucket, seemingly filled to the brim with banana peels, and tossed the latest addition into the bucket.

Jaune: Sun, uhh… the blond monkey faunas you saw earlier. His family are all monkey faunas’s so the have a habit of eating a banana, and tossing the peal away when they’re finished.

Salem: Not into the trash I assume?

Jaune: Unfortunately not. I’ve told him to stop doing that, but he won’t listen to me. So, I’ve been collecting his banana peels for the past two weeks, and I plan to stuff them in his pillow case as form of petty vengeance.

Salem: Do you think that will work?

Jaune: Well, they stink so they should send a message of sorts. If not I’ll tie his tail to the bed frame, or something.

Salem: You would do that to a faunas; That seems rather cruel don’t you think?

Jaune: I have slipped on several banana peels, and landed hard on my back, I will make sure he learns through pain that I am very vindictive bastard.

Salem: And, is the rest of this mess from that blue haired boy?

Jaune: Neptune? Ehh no. It’s from both of them, they’re total slobs. I was about to threaten them with bodily harm if they didn’t clean up the place. But, they started going on again that I totally didn’t have sex with a woman who had the body of an angel carved from the finest of marble slabs, craved painstakingly by a superb master craftsman.

Salem: Why thank you~! You would make a handsome marble statue yourself, Jaune.

Jaune: …

Jaune: Ahck?! I-I-I’m sorry?! I didn’t want to tell them anything about you, but they wouldn’t believe me, so I had to say something?! N-Not a lie, you are gorgeous! Divine even… But… Uhh… It’s a little hot in here…? Perhaps I s-should open a window…

Jaune made way for a window, but was stopped in his tracks as he heard, Salem’s melody of laughter. During the time they spent at the bar talking, he spent every moment trying to get a laugh out of her. Her laughter was angelic, and her smile divine. One he spent the whole night trying to make appear before his very eyes.

Salem had told him the sad story of her life, and her past love. It was a story of sorrow, regret, and betrayal. A love that was, a life that could have been, and the truth to a lie that ruined it all.

She didn’t tell him every detail, it was her right to have her secrets. Jaune didn’t want to know everything either, they were just two strangers sitting alone at a bar. One musing over her drink, the other musing over time. He was just there to be the ear who heard her complaining, the voice to ask the question she wanted asked, and the shoulder to cry over.

Afterwards, Salem asked if, Jaune could give her a ride home. She hadn’t drunk a lot, but even a little alcohol mixed with driving a car could be fatal. And, being the gentleman he tried to be, he accepted her request for aid.

He took her home, and he would have left things at that. But, she insisted that he come in, he remembered her giving him a vague excuse of why he should stay, but he never remembered it. What made him stay was the pleading look in her eyes that beg that she didn’t want to be alone. So he stayed, and one thing lead to another, and he awoke in her bed with her resting softly against him.

It was a moment of weakness, and desire of the flesh. One that they both knew that shouldn’t have happened. But, it was one neither would deny they regretted. After that they agreed to part ways, they would never regret this moment of fleeting love shared between them. But, it was a one time deal, and they would never see each other again.

And yet, Salem was here, right now, right before, Jaune’s very eyes.

Jaune: Why don’t we go to my room? I can assure you it doesn’t look like a bomb went off at a dump.

Jaune opened the door to his room, and ushered, Salem inside his room. Salem was hesitant to enter his room, because it was his, but he assured her it wasn’t like the pigsty she was currently standing in, so she walked in. And, what surprised her ahead l was that, Jaune, once again, he was true to his word.

While the description of, ‘a bomb that went off at a dump,’ was an adept description of their living room, Jaune’s room was a complete contrast to that.

His bed was made, his clothes hanged on their hooks, his floor was vacuumed, and his books neatly arrange along the book case. Even the little figurines he had were neatly in their display cases. The only mess there was upon his desk where an assortment of art supplied, and school books lay strewn about. And, if anything, it would be considered an organized mess at best.

Jaune: Would you like a seat?

Jaune pushed, his charge towards her, and graciously offered her a seat. Salem looked towards the chair, and simply shook her head at his kind offer.

Salem: No, no thank you. But, perhaps you should take a seat.

Jaune: Why, is something wrong, Salem?

Salem: Over a week after our night together, I went in for a medical check up. Standard routine check up for me, I usually have one every three months, or so.

Jaune: That’s a good routine to have. I probably should get a check up myself, it’s been a while since I last saw a doctor.

Salem: Yes… while I was having my check up… They discovered something rather… unexpected…

Jaune: You’re dying?!

Jaune didn’t understand why someone he had a fling with was coming here to tell him that. Unless, was it his fault she was dying?

Jaune was about to start having a panic attack, when, Salem rushed forward, and spoke softly as she tried to calm his nerves.

Salem: Nononono… It’s nothing like that. Quite the opposite really.

Jaune: What’s the opposite of dying? Reincarnation?

Salem laughed as she shook her head, taking off her glasses, and gently placing them on his desk.

Salem: I forgot how much of an adorable goofball you are.

Jaune: Thank you?

Salem: Jaune… let me put this to you bluntly.

Jaune: Okay?

Salem straightened her back, and started, Jaune dead in the eye. Crimson, and cerulean locked in a bitter struggle, neither wanting to look away from the beauty before their eyes.

What felt like an eternity, but merely lasted a few seconds, Salem took a deep breath, and told, Jaune the reasons she was here. A reason that filled her with equal parts dread, and hope. So, with those blood red eyes, she stared at the young man, and spoke words with a voice of steel that completely enthralled him to ever word that dropped from her luscious red lips.

Salem: Jaune… You better take responsibility, or else…

Jaune: …

Jaune: Eh…?

#rwby #jaune arc #rwby salem #neptune vasilias #sun wukong #jaune x salem #salem x jaune #rwby grimmknight

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jasonwhithamauthor · 2 months ago

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Poem: Twas the Day After Christmas

Jason Whitham 2024

Twas the day after Christmas,

And I was on my way back.

When I was T-boned by SpaceX,

A Falcon Nine Black.

There was just enough time,

To loose the reindeer before impact.

Only microseconds to eject,

Before being charred by the jetpack.

Everyone, free of injury,

Was a wonderful Christmas grace.

Lord knows what I’ve sustained,

From rooftop falls to a sealed fireplace.

Still, my ride was busted,

Wires melted and thrusters wrecked.

How could I get it back to base?

Rubble was good for no one but rubbernecks.

My insurance broker was out of office,

The app down for claims.

So I wiped all the computer drives,

Before scuttling the sleigh.

The Lyft bill was quite hefty,

The narwhal ride expectantly wet.

At least the Polar Express was smooth,

I set the autopilot and slept.

Easy enough when you're dead tired,

And the sun doesn’t rise high.

Between September and late March,

Only northern lights illuminate the sky.

When I arrived at the NP,

Elves were already in the boozy cocoa.

Not needing to winterize the sleigh,

Meant a quicker path to getting Fireball loco.

Rudolph worried the Mrs.,

She exclaimed, “Are you okay?”

“We can write it off on taxes,” I replied,

“Or Musk will have to pay.”

I threw off my belt and coat,

And kicked off the big red boots.

Dismissed the staff, made a pass,

And had jolly, cheerful rendezvous.

“I apologize for my Nick’s rudeness.”

“It gets him so randy.”

“What the frigid night air?” asked Frosty.

“No, the cookies and candy.”

While the Mrs. tossed the stale ones,

And sent FedEx thank-yous to the kids,

I checked the sports spreads,

And placed my over/under bets and bids.

I relayed the competitive intel,

To my elves in the toy department.

It surprised them to hear drones were out,

And augmented/VR was in every apartment.

We finished our work reports,

And hurried outdoors.

To compete in the Christmas tree toss,

And skirmish in epic snowball wars.

At the annual festive feast,

They jeered during my appreciation speech.

“Keep it short and sweet, Nick!”

“No one likes to hear you preach!”

I started reflecting on this year’s successes,

Our challenges and wins.

Made some jokes about global politics,

Which rallied big laughs and grins.

What seemed to be most popular, though,

Were my New Year’s resolutions.

Actually, I think it was my promise,

For bigger bonus contributions.

I finished with my crowd-pleaser,

Declared and dropped the mic.

“Merry Christmas to all!” I exclaimed.

“And to all a Good Night!”

Attribution:

Picture generated with the help of OpenArt.

#action #merry christmas #merry xmas #comedy #poetry #santa claus #saint nicholas #saint nick #night before christmas #spacex #falcon 9 #augmented reality #virtual reality #new year #happy new year #new years eve #christmas

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jor-elthatendswell · 1 year ago

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It's a well worn topic at this point but the imminent release of The Marvels has me thinking about how militaristic the Marvel Cinematic Universe is, with Monica Rambeau aka Photon, a habour patrol member in the comics, reimagined as a captain in the US Air Force.

She follows Hawkeye, who was changed from an argumentative former circus performer with a heart of gold (a character so staunchly against lethal force he once revoked his own wife's Avengers membership because she sort of, maybe, subconsciously allowed a villain to fall to his death) into a hard-nosed black ops assassin.

Sam Wilson/ Falcon made his celluloid debut as an army man with twin submachine guns attached to his wrists. It’s a far cry from his print counterpart’s introduction as a social worker by day who uses his skill at falconry to protect his neighbourhood.

If we allow the argument that modern cinema goers are accustomed to a sprinkling of realism to make their superheroes palatable (and it’s a strange argument really- why should realism be a desirable quality in summer blockbuster escapism?) then what actually constitutes “realism”.

Sure, a man who learnt uncanny skill with a bow and arrow growing up with a travelling show couldn’t possibly hold his own alongside Hulk or Thor in the real world (and, yes, there isn’t a Hulk or Thor in the real world; as I say, this is a strange argument), but if he learned those exact same skills in some kind of military context then that somehow passes the bar for realism? The sinister upshot is that these children’s heroes become more warlike just as, globally, they reach more children than ever before.

Increasing the realism of superhero stories only serves to make them problematic. DC Comics' Batman, who is the frequently subjected to “realistic” treatments, is the prime example. If, in real life, a billionaire tooled himself up with the best weapons and body armour money can buy and began dispensing violent “justice” with no accountability, then of course that wouldn’t be a good thing. If they wore a costume with pointy ears and started calling themselves “Batman” then of course we would question their sanity. But Batman isn’t real; it’s a story. Nobody thinks The Muppet Show advocates animal cruelty. Quite the opposite, if anything. ("Not unless they're watching it", as Waldolf once heckled) Yet if a filmmaker decides they’re going to make a “grounded and realistic” remake where Fozzy is played by a real live bear wearing a pork pie hat and spotty necktie, then that's a whole other story. Suspend your disbelief and superheroes are less like the police or army and more akin to volunteers and activists, doing what they can with what they have to improve the lives of those around them. Their actions take the form of crime fighting only because that’s what makes for exciting colourful adventure stories for children.

In the MCU, even Marvel’s poster boy, Spider-Man (another champion of non-lethal solutions, known for his compassion even to his enemies and who possesses an enduring appeal to young children) is given a literal sheen of the military-industrial complex in the form of “Stark Tech” armour, replete with military grade strike drones. Tony Stark even thought to equip his 15 year old protégé-cum-child soldier with an “Instant Kill Mode”. In a moment played for laughs in Spider-Man: Homecoming, Spider-Man rejects his on-board AI's attempt to activate this feature but seems untroubled that such an option exists and, indeed, come Avengers: Infinity War, he voluntarily deploys it. It’s not clear if Spidey actually does kill any of his alien adversaries, but it seems reasonable to assume that one doesn’t say “Activate Instant Kill Mode” without the intention of ending lives. Fans are expected to smile or applaud as Spider-Man says these words, recognising the call-back to Homecoming, rather than find it a gross misrepresentation of Marvel’s most beloved character or an alarming depiction of a children’s favourite.

The MCU Avengers as a whole are a US government “initiative “. The reluctant superheroes need to be cajoled into putting their differences aside for the greater good by army top brass Nick Fury. In a tweak from the source material, the ‘H' in Fury's organisation, SHIELD, stands for ‘Homeland’, making SHIELD as explicitly American venture as opposed to it being ostensibly intergovernmental in the comics.

There is a comic book precedent for this military take on Earth's Mightiest Heroes in the form of The Ultimates, a 2002 series by the British team of writer Mark Millar and artist Bryan Hitch. The Ultimates ,however, was satire. Millar was an unreformed lefty of the old school – someone who has boasted of voting Brexit for left-wing reasons, someone who once appeared on Russia Today as a guest of George Galloway. The Ultimates took swings at the gung ho jingoism of post 9/11 America. Captain America's “Surrender!!?? You think this letter on my head stands for France?“ is not supposed to be a badass one-liner, but rather a parody of the kind of things US media outlets were saying as Jacques Chirac proved less keen than Tony Blair to follow George Bush in bringing gunboat diplomacy to the Middle East. As Millar commentated at the time:

“The Ultimates is completely different because it's a character-driven piece and (something only a few people have noticed) my attempt as a left-wing writer to tell stories about an essentially right-wing concept and cast. It's very much the Anti-Authority, if you will. Captain America and so on are fully-paid members of the US military machine and this means a very different book and approach from a gang of slightly arrogrant, left-wing, superhuman utopians like The Authority ".

Wildstorm Comics' The Authority, which both Millar and Hitch worked on (although not together), was a precursor to Ultimates, featuring a team of similarly “any means necessary” heroes, albeit with a left-wing bent. The Ultimates does have something of The Authority’s utopian streak; Nick Fury and Tony Stark genuinely want to make the world a better place for everyone. It’s very idealistic – what if the head of the military and the biggest tech billionaire actually had the people’s best interests at heart? – and arguably closer to true superhero ethos (basically “with great power there must also come great responsibility “) than those characters more pragmatic MCU equivalents.

Yet, as Millar's one time writing partner Grant Morrison (who actually ghost-wrote at least one issue of The Authority under Miller’s name) observed in Morrison’s major nonfiction work, Supergods, the likes of The Authority, The Ultimates and, by extension, the MCU represent a “capitulation” to the view “that it was really only force and violence that got things done and not patient diplomacy, and that only soldiers and very rich people had the world figured out”. If the MCU is realistic, then it’s a sad indictment of the real world where the heroes are the ones with the best tech, the best guns and no compunction about using them.

Regardless of intent, The Ultimates left a door at Marvel’s “House of Ideas” just enough ajar to allow a malign notion to creep in: “These soldier superheroes are pretty cool. What If they were like that all the time? Wouldn’t they be more popular then”?

Certainly the navy SEAL aesthetic Bryan Hitch brought to the costumes (replacing the colourful tights and capes with pouches, straps and body armour) was soon adopted by superhero tv and film productions even pre-MCU. In fact, Hawkeye's journey from carny to commando mirrors the changes in superhero attire. Most famously, Superman's appearance with the red “overpants” derives from that of circus strongmen, but seeing any photography of early to mid 20th century carnival and circus performers makes it clear the early superhero creators had them in mind when they first put pencil to paper.

In an interview (found in Marvel Spotlight: Captain America, published in 2009) Hitch related how he showed an initial Ultimates drawing of Captain America with a machine gun to Grant Morrison, which Morrison then “described as the most obscene Captain America image [they’d] ever seen”. (NB: Morrison has since adopted gender neutral pronouns). Perhaps Morrison said this with glee, in on the joke with their friends, but in the years since, Cap with a gun became a common sight, even in family-friendly movies (where it was divorced from the irony of The Ultimates).

By a 2015 interview, Morrison lamented the fact that “the Avengers work for the government, and it's been like that since Mark [Millar] did The Ultimates” and said they were “bored with the idea that the best superheroes can represent is some aggressive version of the military. [...] They're supposed to be champions of the oppressed, they help ordinary people, they make things better for people. They don't prop up our grotesque, doddering culture of war and aggression”.

That same year Morrison introduced a new comic book superteam in the pages of The Multiversity. Pointedly the text likens this group, named “Justice Incarnate”, to a “cosmic neighbourhood watch” rather than any formal military or law-enforcement institution.

Millar himself reunited with his Authority collaborator Frank Quitely to create the comic Jupiter’s Legacy, which comes across in part as an apology for The Ultimates and all it begat. It concludes with the protagonists, Chloe Sampson and Eddie "Hutch" Hutchence taking up superhero mantles and promising not to make the moral compromises of their predecessors:

“No more bowing to authority and insitutions. No more deference to people in power”.

“There's a dignity in public service we mistook for old-fashioned, and a humility in having a secret identity, living among the people we protect.“

The Avengers, Marvel’s breakthrough billion dollar box office 2012 movie, by contrast, concludes with Iron Man dropping a nuclear bomb on the “Chitari”, an invading alien army and it seems likely this influenced Morrison’s comments on modern superhero stories.

In Supergods, Morrison

describes their childhood dread of nuclear weapons. The child of “ban the bomb” activists, the “gruesome hand-drawn images of how the world might look after a spirited thermonuclear missile exchange” which illustrated their parents anti-nuclear literature struck terror into the young Morrison. Therefore they seized upon superheroes as being an idea powerful enough to counteract – and overcome – the idea of the bomb.

“It’s not that I needed Superman to be “real,” I just needed him to be more real than the Idea of the Bomb that ravaged my dreams”.

Within the narrative of the movie, Iron Man takes the only option available to him to save New York. Destroying thousands of alien lives to save thousands of human ones. But The Avengers isn’t a documentary; the scriptwriters could have written a satisfying denouement which didn’t involve mass murder. They could at least have included some words of regret by the heroes over what it took to win, acknowledging that killing is not the ideal solution. Instead the Avengers trade banter and eat shawarma, collective conscious clear.

There is a moment in another Grant Morrison work, Final Crisis, which always brings the MCU to mind. In Final Crisis #3, drawn by JG Jones, (published in 2008, the same year the MCU began) “evil gods” from a higher plain of existence have been reincarnated on Earth. In order for the Justice League to counter this threat, a “draft for Superheroes” is implemented. Green Arrow (a Batman-a-like character who was subsequently reinvented to embody the countercultural sentiment of the late 1960s and has since served as the social conscious of the superhero set) responds to receiving his draft notice thusly:

“If anybody falls for this authoritarian, militaristic crap, it’ll prove I’m absolutely right about absolutely everything!... “

Cue the next page, where the drafted heroes have gathered en mass (including Green Arrow, impotently shaking his fist.)

Such an assemblage of characters in usually a triumphant moment in a summer "event" story, but here is framed as a sign that evil already has it’s hooks into reality. This world has fallen to the darkness and the superheroes who inhabit it are too morally compromised to realise it.

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sl-newsie · 6 months ago

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Behind Masks (Dr. Jonathon Crane x OC) Ch. 14: Girls' Night

Lawrence Thompson. The man who sealed my fate. The lawyer I trusted with my freedom. The slimy prick who let me be locked up. And he’s standing twenty feet away.

My position from a nearby fire escape provides a prime lookout point. My target appears to be walking this way with his date for the evening, one who looks like she’d rather be anywhere else than with him. She’s trying to walk away but Thompson won’t have it.

“N-No! Leave me alone!”

“Now now, what’s wrong? I thought you liked rich men, Tiffany.”

Time to pounce.

I swing from the bars and land on all fours in the dark alley, just in time to see the pair walk in front of me.

“Let her go,” I order sharply, making my presence known.

Thompson does a double-take. I look like any other street mugger in my dark clothing. He looks as if he’s never been robbed before.

“Says who? A shadow?” he mocks.

I nod my head at the poor girl next to him. “Run.” She does as I ask, not thinking twice before bolting down the sidewalk and leaving Thompson to me. I pull out a dagger and approach him the way a cat does its prey. “I’ve waited a while for this.”

He scoffs, trying to push the threat aside. “What did I do?”

I lurch forward to grab his jacket and pin him against a dumpster. “It’s all that you’ve done and what you haven’t done. You’re supposed to be a distributor of justice. Instead you take bribes from Falcone and prey on defenseless women.” I hold the cold blade up to his cheek. “That stops now.”

His precious confidence flips off in the blink of an eye. “D-Don’t kill me! Please! I’ll do anything!” he blubbers. “What do you want?”

My glare burns through him. “I want my life back,” I growl.

In one swift motion I reach for dead Baxton’s pistol, jamming the barrel to Thompson’s temple. Another death at my grasp. Quit stalling, you’ve killed before. What’s one more? He deserves this! Pull the trigger, Prentiss! Pull the freaking trigger-!

Snap!

Thompson jumps when a whip cracks against his back. “Ow!”

Who’s joined the party now? Another woman dressed in black… with cat ears? Why not? Her jumpsuit looks similar to mine except there’s small white stitches woven through it. The other accessory is a simple black mask with flaps at the top resembling cat ears. The woman’s eyes dart between Thomason and me with sparking curiosity.

“Meow.” She skips forward and pushes me out of the way, wrapping my victim up with her whip. “Stop playing with your food. Here, allow me-”

She snatches my pistol and aims it at Thompson.

Bam!

He crumbles to the pavement like a sack of potatoes.

My face falls. “I could have-”

“You’re clearly new to this,” the woman drones, unimpressed. “If you’re going to kill someone, do it quickly. And simple if possible. Less to clean up.” She jerks her head to the fresh corpse. “He’s a piece of work. What did Lawrence Thompson do to you?”

I kick a stone down the sidewalk. She just schooled me in murder. How did I let this happen?

“Had me locked up. All because I wanted to tell the truth.”

“The only place the truth will get you in Gotham is under the boardwalk.” She leans down and looks up at my face. “You got a name?”

Hm. She seems on the side of the law I’m on… I think. Can I trust her to not turn me in?

“Calico Prentiss.”

Her face perks with interest. “Calico? As in the cat?”

“Yes. My parents thought it was pretty. What’s your name?”

She offers a hand and we shake. “Selina Kyle.”

I nod. “Another name for another woman in a mask.” She’s the Catwoman that Crane told me about.

“That leads me to my question. What are you doing out here? The Prentiss family isn’t broke. Surely a rich girl like you doesn’t need to be sulking through the streets for scraps.”

There is no reason to tell her everything. For all I know she might be just as scheming as Dr. Crane. Keep it simple, Prentiss.

“Money won’t help me. I’m scoping out the area.”

She doesn’t ask why. Selina just looks me up and down trying to get a read on me.

“What if I helped teach you a few things? I like strays like you.”

My eyes flash. I know I’m new to this but I don’t need to be lectured like a child. A stray. At least Crane let me figure things out on my own.

“I don’t need anyone. If I screw up it’s on me.”

Selina clicks her tongue. “Wow. You are quite the wild card. Reminds me of myself.” She gestures to my hair. “Rule number one, keep your hair pulled away. A ponytail is available for your attacker to pull you down. My suggestion? Get a ski mask.”

Is she kidding? “Your mask hardly covers your face. I’d rather have something more effective.”

Selina cocks her head and toys with something in her pocket. A closer look reveals it’s a jeweled bracelet.

“I’ll go out on a limb and assume those diamonds don’t belong to you.”

Selina shrugs. “Girl’s gotta eat.”

I take that as a cue to leave. I’m here for justice, not thievery. I got what I came for anyway- one way or another. Thompson is dead. Maybe I can actually do the killing next time-

“Ding dong! Mind if I join you?” a cheery voice rings out.

A familiar girl in a red and white clown costume cartwheels past me, leaping onto a parked car. Her.

“You?!” I gawk and pull out my gun. “You’re with the Joker!”

She giggles and strokes her jester hat. “Yeah, that’s my puddin.” Her New York accent is immediately noticeable. “We’re kinda in a rough patch. He loves me, he loves me not, I get locked up in Arkham. It’s all over the map. Harley Quinn, pleased to meet ya!”

“How can you put up with that clown?” a voice behind us asks.

I give a friendly wave. “Hi, Ivy.”

The poisonous botanist herself steps out from behind the shadows, wearing a dark green leotard. Who’s been following me?

“Ah, hello!” the clown girl waves. “Nice to see ya, Red! Join the club!”

Ivy tilts her head. “And what club is that?”

I hold up my gun and step away. “This is not a club. I’m a one-woman act.”

“I agree,” Selina inputs from her perch on the fire escape. “This cat walks by herself. Let’s go, Calico.”

She hops down and pulls me away from the two women. We’re both thinking the same thing: we don’t need unwanted attention.

“Aw, we’re not so bad!” Quinn whines. “C’mon, stay! We’ll go out for drinks!”

“Oh, yes,” I quip and keep walking. “Four of Gotham’s most-wanted walking into a bar. Sounds like a setup for a joke.”

“No joke! Let’s go out! Please? Mista J’s too busy with Batman. I’ve got noth’n else to do.” She taps on Selina’s shoulder. “C’mon, kitty. What’s the harm?”

Selina halts in her tracks, pondering over the offer. “Calico?”

This is what they call a social gathering. I used to partake in them myself during college. Nothing too out of control, just a few drinks and some chatting. That was when I was so naïve about the ways of the world. When I was… sane. Does something that normal apply to people like us?

I hold up a finger and face the group. “One drink. Period. No more after,” I warn, stopping to point at Quinn. “And no funny business. Understand?”

She grins like a maniac. “Loud and clear! Let’s get cracking!”

Selina takes the lead. One that has us end up on the… less patrolled side of Gotham. She points us to a bar and my first thought is: run. If anxiety and anger married and ran a bar together, this would be it. Harley is oblivious to the sketchy characters giving us the evil eye but Ivy isn’t. She plays her part of looking like the pretty poison she is and ignores them. But this doesn’t sit well for a buff bearded guy. Seriously this guy has so many tattoos you would think he’s a child’s doodle pad. He snarls at Selina and tries to reach over- right as Catwoman lashes out and scratches lines of blood down his tattooed arm.

“Never corner a cat, darling. You’ll get the claws.”

He backs off, as well as the rest of the onlookers, and we head to a booth in the back corner.

“This place is definitely on the dodgy side,” I mutter.

Selena sits next to me and begins scanning the menu. “Don’t sweat it, I know the owner. Rico and I go way back.”

“On what terms?” Ivy asks.

“A respectable understanding. This is a clear zone for both of us. I don’t steal and he doesn’t turn me in.”

“Does Batman know about here?”

Catwoman shrugs. “He’s never shown his face before. But I’d stay cautious.”

A skittery-looking waiter takes our order and scatters to the kitchen. Alcohol is the only product I trust in this unsanitary place, so a simple mixed drink will suffice- Uh-oh.

Something catches my eye. A small TV in the ceiling corner shows Summer Gleeson standing in front of the roads leading out of the city.

I point and the others follow my gaze. “Look. On the TV.”

“It is confirmed. Gotham City is now on lockdown due to the Joker’s bomb threat. Citizens are required to remain off the bridges and stay indoors.”

I wish Dr. Crane was here. He’d have so much input about the Joker’s psychosis- What is wrong with me? I do not need him back in my life!

“Care to explain, Harley?” Ivy grunts and sips her cocktail.

The clown girl grins proudly. “He’s a genius!”

Selina groans. “Psycho. Now we’re stuck.”

I sip my own drink, considering the situation. “I had no intention of leaving. I’ve still got work to do. Although Joker might do the dirty work for me if this keeps up.”

“Seems to me like you’re putting way too much effort into stalking,” Selina quips.

I sigh deeply and rub my temples. “Well then how would you acquire information?”

Something in the atmosphere changes. The girls exchange looks, as if trying to decide how to lay out a heavy truth on an unsuspecting child.

“I don’t think you’d like what we do,” Ivy says slowly.

This is ridiculous. “Guys, I’m not five. What-?”

“You sleep with them,” Selina cuts me off. “Men are so much easier to manipulate when you sleep with them.”

Static. My jaw drops and my train of thought crashes off the rails. Did I hear that right?

Harley giggles. “Told you.”

My pulse spikes, my eyes darting to look at all of them. “I am not going to belittle myself by sleeping with those sleazy bastards! I still have my dignity- they haven’t taken that yet!”

The botanist smirks. “Yeah, you’d rather be sleeping elsewhere…”

My eyes narrow. “And what’s that supposed to mean, Ivy?”

She rolls her eyes and takes another drink. “Callie, you’ve fallen head over heels for that creep!”

Harley makes a pouting face and gets in between us. “Aw, leave her alone, Red. Her and Crane are perfect for each other!”

Crane. Am I that easy to read? Sure, I like to know how he’s doing. As a concerned colleague. Surely that’s as far as my intentions stretch. How can they suggest such a thing?

“He’s a twisted louse!” Ivy bites back. “How can you even stand to look at him?”

My brow furrows in both offense and frustration. “You’re both wrong. He’s not a louse and I do not love him. Our relationship is professionally scientific and platonic.”

Retreat. This is getting too personal to be just a girl’s night- If those even exist. I need to get out-

“Aw, Red. It’s love! She ain’t brainwashed.”

Ivy scoffs at Harley’s argument. “Says the once-sane psychiatrist who’s in love with Gotham’s most dangerous psychopath.”

The clown girl tilts her head at me. “You don’t talk much, do ya hon?”

I slowly look up to meet her gaze. “Small talk and commentary are just empty words. People don’t care. Though then again people usually don’t care when I have something intellectual to say either.”

“Maybe that’s why Crane likes you.”

Now it’s my turn to scoff. “He doesn’t like anyone. He likes having people to use as guinea pigs. I was merely a mistake. I wasn’t even supposed to be in Arkham, and here I am now. Talk about getting high on risk.”

“Oh really?” Selina inquires.

I nod, remembering my textbook. “For some people, they ‘get high’ off of adrenaline when they take risks in their life. They might understand their mortality but are willing to ignore it. Others take risks because they don’t want to live an uneventful life, so they take part in activities such as skydiving, snorkeling, and other death-defying activities. For me I guess it’s getting back at the people who put me here.” I take a sip, letting my words sink in. “But certain people might just want smaller risks because they fear their mortality more. It all depends on a person’s own view of their mortality and what they want to accomplish in life.”

Selina’s playing with her straw and Ivy looks zoned out, but Harley is anything but bored at my small lecture.

“Wow! That sounds like Johnny boy. But instead of being obsessed with fear you like death or something. I still think you’d make a cute couple.”

There it is again. Tonight’s outing is starting to get on my nerves.

My fist clenches around my glass. “If you could please abstain from playing insane matchmaker, I’d like to go home now before I completely lose what’s left of my marbles. Crane’s played around and used me enough, I do not need any more interruptions.”

Apparently the words ‘played around’ and ‘used’ seem to catch their interest. Harley and Ivy exchange looks, while Selina simply gives me an encouraging pat on the shoulder.

“Well, it’s been fun. But I’ve gotta get home to feed my cat.”

She stands up and struts out of the bar, with half the men staring, leaving me to my own awkward exit.

“I’m heading home too. My target for tonight was eliminated thanks to Catwoman but as I said I’ve got more work to do. As well as wait for this whole bomb threat to blow over, figuratively or literally.”

Harley bites her lip and Ivy seems to be cooking something up. “I think we’ll stay a while longer. Go get some sleep, Callie.”

Sleep. Something that’s been avoiding me these past few nights. It sounds pretty good right now. Anything’s better than trying to argue against my feelings for- ugh. Him.

“Goodnight everyone.” I down what’s left of my drink and make my way out of the crowded bar.

Maybe now that Thompson is finished I can finally let go… But there are just a few more loose ends to deal with.

#jonathon crane #jonathon crane x reader #dr jonathan crane #scarecrow x reader #scarecrow #poison ivy #the riddler #harley quinn #the joker #two face #the penguin #batman #batman begins #the dark knight #the dark knigth rises #gotham #gotham tv #cillian murphy #catwoman

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ariesgamesandminis · 1 month ago

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Massive restock from Iron Wind Metals is up for BattleTech!

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yearzerosurvival · 1 month ago

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Have you ever taken a drone with you when camping?

#survival #outdoors #yearzerosurvival.com #camping #drone photography

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tigressaofkanjis · 10 months ago

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Transformers: Lost World - All 20 Mountain Transformers

67. Starscream (Infiltrator) - Can be found in Basic, Wide Single Striped, and Tribal Patterns.

Normal Colors: Prime Sherbert (Red, Blue, and Yellow with Red Lights), Decadent Paradise (Burgundy, Slate Purple, and Silver with Red Lights)

Regal Colors: Rhondochrosite (Magenta, Pink, and Pale Pink with Red Lights), Tropical Dusk (Burgundy, Amber, and Lavender with Red Lights)

Rare Colors: Beast (Grey, Red, Black and Blue with Red Lights; Peregrine Falcon), Shattered Glass (White, Red, Silver, and Dark Grey with Blue Lights)

Legendary Colors: Nightscream (Black, Red, and Yellow with Red Lights), Golden Seeker (Gold, Copper, and Red with Red Lights)

68. Thundercracker (Infiltrator) - Can be found in Basic, Narrow Double Striped, and Cheetah Patterns.

Normal Colors: Futuristic (Blue, Grey, and Red with Red Lights), Dark Stone (Deep Blue, Black, and Slate with Red Lights)

Regal Colors: Faded Dusk (Light Gray, Deep Blue and Orange with Orange Lights), 3D (Blue, Crimson, and Black with Red Lights)

Rare Colors: Beast (Dark Blue, White, Black, and Red with Red Lights; Cooper’s Hawk), Shattered Glass (Purple, Red, Green and Gold with Red Lights)

Legendary Colors: Clear Blue (Light Blue, Blue, White, and Grey with Blue Lights), War Drone (Dark Yellow, Maroon, Dark Slate, and Silver with Red Lights)

69. Skywarp (Scout) - Can be found in Basic, Ocelot, and Chevron Patterns.

Normal Colors: Charoite (Purple, Black, and Deep Grey with Red Lights), Amethyst (Indigo, Gray, and Silver with Red Lights)

Regal Colors: Imperial (Silver, Gold, and Purple with Purple Lights), Lavender Field (Lavender, Grey, and Green with Red Lights)

Rare Colors: Beast (Purple, White, Silver, and Lavender with Purple Lights; Harpy Eagle), Shattered Glass (Blue, Silver, Black, and Indigo with Blue Lights)

Legendary Colors: Cowardly Clone (White, Purple, Black, and Pink with Red Lights), Battleworthy (Pink, Black, and Gold with Red Lights)

70. Soundwave (Gatherer) - Can be found in Basic, Narrow Single Striped, and Triangular Patterns.

Normal Colors: Showtime (Blue, Crimson, and Gold with Red Lights), Mosaic (Dark Blue, White, and Yellow with Red Lights)

Regal Colors: Midnight (Dark Blue, Dark Purple, and Slate Purple with Purple Lights), Gothic Luxury (Black, Gold, and Crimson with Red Lights)

Rare Colors: Beast (Gold, White, Blue, and Crimson; Long-Eared Bat), Shattered Glass (White, Cerulean, and Green with Green Lights)

Legendary Colors: Electromagnetic (Silver, Purple, Blue, and Teal with Red Lights), Talon Hunter (Slate, Blue, Brown, and Yellow with Yellow Lights)

71. Brawn (Wrecker) - Can be found in Basic, Tobiano, and Tiger Patterns.

Normal Colors: Prairie (Yellow, Camo Green, and Silver with Blue Lights), Zultanite (Camo Green, Windsor Tan, and Grey with Blue Lights)

Regal Colors: Smoking Embers (Grey, Gold, and Orange with Orange Lights), Old Shed (Green, Dark Brown, and Black with Blue Lights)

Rare Colors: Beast (Brown, Tan, Green, and Grey with Green Lights; Musk Ox), Shattered Glass (Dark Green, Neon Green, Gold, and Silver with Orange Lights)

Legendary Colors: X (Silver, Dark Green, Mint, and Red with Green Lights), Indestructible (Silver, Copper, Gold, and Green with Blue Lights)

72. Yoketron (Healer) - Can be found in Basic, Tribal, and Saddled Patterns.

Normal Colors: Hibiscus Trionum (White, Black, and Gold with Blue Lights), Monochrome (White, Black, and Grey with Blue Lights)

Regal Colors: Howlite (White and Grey with Blue Lights), Lavish (Slate Gray, Burgundy, and Gold with Yellow Lights)

Rare Colors: Beast (Gold, White, Black, Yellow; Therizinosaurus), Shattered Glass (Black, Pale Gold, and Purple with Red Lights)

Legendary Colors: Circuit-Su (White, Blue, Teal and Baby Blue with Blue Lights), Metallikato (Gold, Silver, and Orange with Yellow Lights)

73. Warpath (Wrecker) - Can be found in Basic, Hexagonal, and Flames Patterns.

Normal Colors: Harlequin (Red, Black, and White with White Lights), Ornament (Red, Silver, and Gold with Blue Lights)

Regal Colors: Black Citrine (Black, Yellow, and Orange with Red Lights), Smelting Rock (Amber, Black, and Grey with Orange Lights)

Rare Colors: Beast (Crimson, Deep Green, Black, and Yellow; Alligator), Shattered Glass (Blue, Dark Blue, and Black with Purple Lights)

Legendary Colors: Battle Tank (Camo Green, Dark Grey, and Red with Blue Lights), Bunker Buster (Brown, Red, Orange, and Green with Green Lights)

74. Hook (Healer) - Can be found in Basic, Mackerel, and Wide Single Striped Patterns.

Normal Colors: Masquerade (Vivid Purple, Neon Green, and Dark Grey with Red Lights), Leather Coat (Windsor Tan, Neon Yellow, and Dark Grey with Yellow Lights)

Regal Colors: Old Shed (Green, Dark Brown, and Black with Green Lights), Desert Bloom (Tan, Purple, and Yellow with Red Lights)

Rare Colors: Beast (Black, Green, Grey, and Purple with Green Lights), Shattered Glass (Red, White, Grey, and Silver with Blue Lights)

Legendary Colors: Dark Servant (Black, Dark Purple, and Orange with Orange Lights), Construction (Yellow, Indigo, Orange and Black with Red Lights)

75. Nightbird (Infiltrator) - Can be found in Basic, Tiger, and Tribal Patterns.

Normal Colors: Poison Haze (Grey, Black, and Indigo with Yellow Lights), Dark Butterfly (Black, Indigo, Gold, and Light Grey with Purple Lights)

Regal Colors: Raven Flock (Grey, Black, and Slate with Blue Lights), Azurite (Deep Blue, Copper and Black with Red Lights)

Rare Colors: Beast (Dark Grey, Silver, Purple, and Copper with Yellow Lights; Osprey), Shattered Glass (Red, Teal, and Copper with Blue Lights)

Legendary Colors: Mercenary Motive (Purple, Lavender, Black, and Silver with White Lights), Metal Ninja (Copper, Gold, Black, and Purple with Red Lights)

76. Jetfire (Gatherer) - Can be found in Basic, Flames, and Leopard Patterns.

Normal Colors: Flag (White, Deep Blue, and Crimson with Blue Lights), Candlelight (Orange, Black, and Yellow with Yellow Lights)

Regal Colors: Tiger’s Eye (Orange, Black, and Crimson with Red Lights), Shaded Canyon (Copper, Purple, and Black with Blue Lights)

Rare Colors: Beast (Light Orange, White, Brown, and Red with Red Lights; Atlas Moth), Shattered Glass (Black, Purple, Neon Green, and Silver with Green Lights)

Legendary Colors: Sky Shadow (Tan, Black, Burgundy, and Yellow with Yellow Lights), Cross Faction (Black, Silver, Copper, and Gold with Red Lights)

77. Jetstorm (Miner) - Can be found in Basic, Flames, and Mackerel Patterns.

Normal Colors: Seaboard (White, Cool Black, and Navy Blue with Blue Lights), Dark Stone (Deep Blue, Black, and Slate with Blue Lights)

Regal Colors: Smoking Embers (Grey, Gold, and Orange with Orange Lights), Royal Blue (Blue, Gold, and Teal with Blue Lights)

Rare Colors: Beast (Dark Blue, Teal, and Orange with Orange Lights; Dragonfly), Shattered Glass (Black, Green, Silver and Red with Red Lights)

Legendary Colors: Baja Blaster (Black, Teal, and Orange with Blue Lights), Aquaspeeder (Teal, Red, Yellow, and Dark Blue with Pink Lights)

78. Skyquake (Combatant) - Can be found in Basic, Narrow Double Striped, and Tiger Patterns.

Normal Colors: Zultanite (Camo Green, Windsor Tan, and Grey with Red Lights), Komodo (Green, Orange, and Deep Grey with Red Lights)

Regal Colors: Wire Jacket (White, Red, Green, and Black with Red Lights), Ammolite (Green, Yellow, and Red with Red Lights)

Rare Colors: Beast (Green, Dark Green, Red and Gold with Red Lights; Quetzalcoatlus), Shattered Glass (Orange, Gold, Dark Brown, and Silver with Blue Lights)

Legendary Colors: Megavisor (Dark Teal, Orange, and Pink with Yellow Lights), Undead (Dark Brown, Grey, Dark Grey, and Brown with Purple Lights)

79. Dreadwing (Combatant) - Can be found in Basic, Wide Single Striped, and Tiger Patterns.

Normal Colors: Spatial Wonder (Blue, Gold, and Silver with Red Lights), Cobalt Aura (Dark Blue, Gold, and Purple with Red Lights)

Regal Colors: 3D (Blue, Crimson, and Black with Red Lights), Purple Starling (Purple, Teal, and Silver with Red Lights)

Rare Colors: Beast (Light Blue, Dark Blue, Gold, and White with Orange Lights; Quetzalcoatlus), Shattered Glass (Red, Purple, Black and Orange with Blue Lights)

Legendary Colors: Mirage’s Bane (Silver, Dark Grey, Pink, and Blue with Red Lights), Stealth Assault (Indigo, Teal, Black, and Orange with Red Lights)

80. Ratchet (Healer) - Can be found in Basic, Tobiano, and Triangular Patterns.

Normal Colors: Medic (Red and White with Blue Lights), Cards (White, Red, and Black with Blue Lights)

Regal Colors: Crystal Spessartine (Orange, Burgundy, and White with Blue Lights), Vanadinite (White, Red, and Orange with Blue Lights)

Rare Colors: Beast (Orange, Black, White, and Red with White Lights; Red Panda), Shattered Glass (White, Purple, and Teal with Red Lights)

Legendary Colors: Emergency (Neon Yellow, White, and Red with Blue Lights), Night Ops (Black, Neon Yellow, White, and Green with Green Lights)

81. Lockdown (Infiltrator) - Can be found in Basic, Chevron, and Ocelot Patterns.

Normal Colors: Night Vision (Black, Deep Green, and Neon Green with Red Lights), Raven Flock (Grey, Black, and Slate with Green Lights)

Regal Colors: Moonlit Ocean (Dark Blue, Black and White with White Lights), Poltergeist (Black, Purple, and Grey with Purple Lights)

Rare Colors: Beast (Black, Green, Grey, and Red with Red Lights; Hybrid Baryonyx), Shattered Glass (Cerulean, Crimson, Black, and White with Blue Lights)

Legendary Colors: Blazing Wheels (Black, Gold, Yellow, and Red with Red Lights), Bandit (Black, Blue, Teal, and Red with Red Lights)

82. Fixit (Healer) - Can be found in Basic, Saddled, and Hexagonal Patterns.

Normal Colors: Oriole (Orange, Amber, and Black with Blue Lights), Medic (Red and White with Blue Lights)

Regal Colors: Bumblebee Jasper (Yellow, Black, and Blue with Blue Lights), Sunstone (Orange and White with Orange Lights)

Rare Colors: Beast (Tan, Orange, and Brown with Yellow Lights; Chinchilla), Shattered Glass (Light Blue, Grey, and Yellow with Red Lights)

Legendary Colors: Cool Caretaker (Teal, Black, and Silver with Blue Lights), Rescue Patrol (White, Red, Black, and Cerulean with Blue Lights)

83. Wheelie (Miner) - Can be found in Basic, Narrow Sports Striped, and Tobiano Patterns.

Normal Colors: Inferno (Tangerine, Light Orange, and Black with Red Lights), Dragon’s Breath (Dark Brown, Orange, and Grey with Blue Lights)

Regal Colors: Futuristic (Blue, Grey, and Red with Red Lights), Magical Betta (White, Blue, and Maroon with Red Lights)

Rare Colors: Beast (Orange, Grey, Maroon, and Burgundy with Green Lights; Ferret), Shattered Glass (Lavender, Slate, and Black with Red Lights)

Legendary Colors: Wild Life (Yellow, Orange, and Teal, with Yellow Lights), Young Warrior (Red, Orange, Yellow, and Amber with Blue Lights)

84. Thunderblast (Combatant) - Can be found in Basic, Tiger, and Cheetah Patterns.

Normal Colors: Imperial (Silver, Gold, and Purple with Purple Lights), Decorum (Silver, Copper, and Indigo with Purple Lights)

Regal Colors: Gabbro Merlinite (Indigo, Black, and Silver with Purple Lights), Morning Glory (Purple, Lavender, and Black with Purple Lights)

Rare Colors: Beast (Dark Purple, Indigo, and Grey with Red Lights; Whale Shark), Shattered Glass (White, Pink, and Lavender with Blue Lights)

Legendary Colors: Another Life (Brown, Orange, and Silver with Red Lights), Cybertronian Leader (Gold, Black, Copper, and Lavender with Purple Lights)

85. Optimus Prime (Leader) - Can be found in Basic, Flames, and Tribal Patterns.

Normal Colors: Prime Sherbert (Red, Blue, and Yellow with Blue Lights), Crimson Rosella (Red, Blue, and Black with Blue Lights)

Regal Colors: Wildfire (Amber, Red, and Dark Grey with Yellow Lights), Ornament (Red, Silver, and Gold with Blue Lights)

Rare Colors: Beast (Deep Grey, Red, Blue, and Silver; Silverback Gorilla), Shattered Glass (Purple, Dark Blue, Green and Black with Red Lights)

Legendary Colors: Dark Guard (Black, Gold, Silver, and Blue with Blue Lights), Battle Core (White, Gold, and Silver with Blue Lights)

86. Megatron (Leader) - Can be found in Basic, Tiger, and Chevron Patterns.

Normal Colors: Warlord (Silver, Deep Grey, Black, and Crimson with Red Lights), Iris Diamond (Silver and Violet with Red Lights)

Regal Colors: Treasure Ore (Silver, Gold, and Copper with Red Lights), Dragonborn (Red, Orange, and Yellow with Red Lights)

Rare Colors: Beast (Purple, Camo Green, Copper, and Black with Red Lights; Tyrannosaurus), Shattered Glass (White, Black, Blue, and Red with Blue Lights)

Legendary Colors: Shadow Blade (Black, Purple, and Lavender with Purple Lights), Sharkticon (Brown, Pink, Light Blue, and Purple with Green Lights)

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celinamarniss · 1 year ago

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Ao3 is down so I'm posting the first chapter of A Smuggler's Guide to Joining the Rebellion (the sequel to Things You Find on Tatooine) here as a birthday present for @virusq Happy Birthday!

It was the sharp tone in Mara’s voice that Han registered long before he recognised the words as they carried down the starboard corridor. “Chewbacca,” Mara hissed, “you’re not listening to me—”

It was the sort of tone that brought Han to an abrupt stop before his brain had realized what his body was doing. Chewie’s reply was too low to make out, but his answer was terse and unhappy.

Oh no no no no. Han was not getting in the middle of some lover’s spat. Swiveling on his heel, He slunk back down the corridor as quietly as he could manage.

“I know you’re there, Han,” Mara’s voice rang down the corridor.

Han frowned, foot half-raised. He was sure he’d been quiet. Why had he tried so hard to be quiet? This was his ship, wasn’t it? He didn’t need to creep around on his ship.

“Yeah?” he called back. “What of it? A man should be able to walk around his own ship whenever he pleases!” To prove his point, he let his feet fall heavily on the grated floor, even though he was still retreating backwards down the corridor.

“If the both of you are done bickering, we’re coming up on Riggett Station. If anyone on the crew wants to help dock the ship today.” A sullen silence answered him and followed him into the cockpit.

Moments later, Chewie lumbered down the corridor. “Teenagers,” he muttered under his breath as he joined Han. Mara trailed behind him like a little black cloud.

She got like that sometimes. Han didn’t understand it, Chewie couldn’t predict it. Without warning, she would fall into a sulk and shut herself off in her room with only her small arsenal of weaponry to keep her company. Eventually she’d come out again, usually to eat, and when she did she acted like nothing had happened. Han didn’t know if this was normal, since he wasn’t entirely sure how teenaged girls were meant to behave. The girls he’d known when he’d been a teenager had, like himself, been fighting too hard to stay alive on the streets of Corellia to mope in a cupboard.

Mara tucked herself in the seat behind Chewie and turned to the navigator’s console without speaking. Chewie grumbled something Han didn’t catch as he settled into the co-pilot’s couch.

“What was that?” Han asked absently as he reached for the lever that would take them out of hyperspace.

But he never did find out what Chewie was going to say, because at that moment, realspace solidified around them with an abrupt jolt that rocked the entire ship. Was the alluvial dampener malfunctioning again? Han had a moment to wonder before the proximity alarm began to shriek.

“Shit.”

An Imperial patrol ship hovered like a viper wasp in the starboard viewport, gleaming silver against the star-pricked void.

“Shit, shit, shit, shit.” Han silenced the alarm. “That shouldn’t be there!”

They knew the patrol schedule for this sector—at least, they’d known last month’s schedule—and no one was due in this particular space lane for a few days.

“They’re hailing us,” Mara said tightly.

The Falcon’s comm dropped the first seconds of the call, almost as if in spite. “—erial patrol, freighter, please identify yourself.”

Han jabbed at comm with enough force to drive it into the control panel. “This is the freighter Millenium Falcon, sending our transponder ID now.”

“Stand by, Millenium Falcon.”

“They’re going to board and search the ship,” Chewie rumbled.

They were fucked if the Imps did a full search of the ship. The fifty barrels of high-grade Kessel spice sitting in their hold wasn’t sort of haul you couldn’t hide under a floor panel. They didn’t have time to move the barrels to a more secure hiding place and if a boarding party had a strong enough scanner, it wouldn’t matter where they hid it.

“Prepare for approach,” the comm droned.

“Uh, that’s not necessary, officer,” Han said, knowing, even as the words left his mouth, exactly how unconvincing he sounded. “As you can see from our ID, we’re just an independent freighter headed to pick up some work on the station.”

“Millenium Falcon, hold and prepare for boarding and inspection.”

There was a finality to the click that ended the transmission that couldn’t be denied. The nose of the cruiser slowly rotated until it pointed in their direction like a blunted arrow.

“Dump ‘em,” Han barked. “We’re still out of range of their scanners. We’re far enough into the system—we dump the cargo and it’ll just look like orbiting debris.”

“Will that work?” Mara asked.

“It’s worked before,” Han said grimly. He and Chewie had never tried it before—not exactly—but it was a common enough tactic that lots of smugglers employed. “But we have to do it now. Dump everything. Mara—”

But she was already gone. Han cursed under his breath and scrambled after her. When he caught up to her in the cargo bay, she had already donned her gloves and was releasing the locking clamps on the rack of barrels.

“Just shove ‘em into the elevator and we’ll dump them out of the loading—careful! What are you doing!—Don't scrape them along the floor! They’ll be able to tell there was cargo in here.”

“On this floor?” Mara waved a hand wildly. “Oh, they’ll definitely be able to tell what scratches on this floor are from illegal cargo.”

Han heaved a barrel into the freight elevator. “I’ll be able to tell, and if I can tell—”

A large furry hand reached around from behind him and hoisted two barrels out of the way. “Quit arguing,” Chewie rumbled.

“We’re not—” Han and Mara snapped at the same time.

“Just a difference of opinion,” Han said as he helped Mara tip a barrel on its side and roll into the lift. “Mara’s opinion is wrong and mine is right.”

Han kicked the final barrel onto the freight elevator where it banged against the other with an ear-piercing clang. He spared a millisecond to worry about the goods before remembering that they were about to space the whole lot.

“Alright, back off.” They retreated to the entryway of the hold as Han activated the elevator release.

The elevator disappeared into the floor as it lowered the barrels out of sight. They listened to the clunk and hiss of the airlock sealing the cargo off from the rest of the ship, and then—nothing. It was all gone, thousands of credits dumped into space.

Back in the cockpit, they watched the shadow of the patrol ship slide across the Falcon’s viewport.

“Everyone gets boarded,” Han said into the silence. “It’s fine. It’s going to be fine, everything’s going to be fine. They’ll smell that something’s off, but if they can’t find it, they can’t pin it on us.”

The Falcon shuddered as it was caught in the grip of the tractor beam and they all flinched at the vibration, followed by the deep mechanical grinding of the airlock slotting into place.

Han could feel Mara and Chewie’s eyes on him. “I’ll go show ‘em around,” he said.

He had a bad feeling about this.

“I’ll do it,” Mara said, darting out of the cabin again.

“Mara—”

“She can do it,” Chewie said.

“She’d better,” Han muttered, pushing out of his seat. “All our asses are on the line if she doesn’t.”

By the time he reached the airlock, five stormtroopers were assembling in the cramped corridor headed by an Imperial officer that looked exactly like every other Imperial officer that Han had ever met. There was something about that uniform that seemed to drain any sort of personality out of a person.

Mara stood between him and the Imperials, her hands loose at her sides, as unarmed as Mara ever was. “Officer! Welcome to the Millennium Falcon!”

Han had never heard her use that tone of voice before. It was innocuous and sweet, too-bright. Chirpy.

It clearly wasn’t the sort of reception the officer had been expecting, either, and it was just enough to throw him off. He closed his mouth around an unspoken command and stared down at her for a moment before he was able to reassess the situation he had walked into. Mara met his gaze with the straightforward earnestness of a concerned citizen with nothing to hide. Han almost believed her himself. Good girl, he thought.

“We’re here to search this freighter for any contraband or unregistered cargo,” the Imperial officer said stiffly.

“Of course, officer,” Mara replied, bright and eager. “We’re on our way to Glavis to pick up a job, so we’re running light right now. Do you have all the equipment you need to scan the cargo hold?”

“A visual inspection is all that’s required at this juncture. Is that your captain?” The officer said, craning his head around in Han’s direction. The expression on the Imperial’s face froze as Chewie lumbered into the view.

“Yeah, I’m him,” Han said. He gestured at Chewie. “Our first mate. And muscle.”

“Is it under control?” the officer muttered, more to Mara than Han.

“Chewbacca’s very reliable!” she said, before Han had a chance to mouth off. “You don’t have to worry about anything! Would you like to view the hold now?”

The officer made a show of looking Han and Chewie up and down once more before he nodded. “Keep an eye on them,” he said to one of the troopers.

“Sure, we’ll just wait in the lounge until you’re done,” Han said, backing down the curve of the corridor. The trooper hefted his blaster and marched in the same direction.

“Our cargo hold is right this way!” Mara chirped. “If you’ll follow me, sir…”

A single stormtrooper remained to guard the exit as the other three marched after Mara and the officer toward the cargo bay. The stormtrooper assigned to watch Han and Chewie stood at attention in the entryway to the lounge, and while it was impossible to tell where he was looking, not with those helmets, Han could feel his eyes on them.

Kriffing Imps.

Chewie put his hands on the table, relaxed and visible, as though he were just resting them on the edge of the holoboard. After a moment, Han did the same, though he itched to drop his hand and rest it on the handle of his blaster.

Every moment that passed, those barrels were spiraling further and further away from the space lanes,

They’d never be able to retrieve them.

After about two minutes, he couldn’t take it anymore. The stormtrooper hefted his blaster as he got to his feet, and Han jerked his hands up in a display of compliance.

Insolent compliance. “I’m not going anywhere,” he said.

“Keep within bounds,” the Trooper barked.

Han let his hands drop a few inches as he paced over to one end of the lounge, turning on his heel at the edge of the room and looping back again. And again.

If Mara wasn’t able to convince them that the Falcon was a perfectly harmless cargo hauler, then the Imperials would arrest them and likely throw them into some sort of hellish Imperial prison. Han didn’t want to think about the sort of sentence that Chewie or Mara would face.

Or—the Imperials might just shoot them.

Or this was just routine harassment, and if they didn’t see any evidence of smuggling, they’d accept a bribe—not that they had much of anything to bribe with—and be on their way.

Han made another circuit of the lounge. He could hear Mara’s chatter drifting down the hall before he saw her. The sound of a door sliding open, and then another, told Han they were doing a search of the Falcon, but only a perfunctory one. He craned his head out of the lounge, obeying the letter of the law by not lifting a foot to step into the corridor. He could hear the impatient shift of the stormtrooper behind him, but the Imp didn’t call him on it.

Han tensed as Mara paused in front of the door to her personal arsenal. She stood in front of the former supply closet, radiating innocence and chattering on, and not one of the stormtroopers moved to open the door. It was almost as if they couldn’t see it.

Han squinted at the troopers as they continued on down the hallway until they reached the airlock. He could hear the click and of their comms, and then the trooper on guard duty in the lounge shouldered past him to rejoin his squad.

The inspection was over.

If they’d had an Imperial flag onboard, Mara would have waved them off. “Thank you, officer! We appreciate your service!” she called as the airlock rolled back into place.

They waited in the cockpit for a long, tense half an hour before the comm pinged.

“Millennium Falcon, you may go on your way,” a bored voice droned over the comm. Above them, the patrol ship slowly glided back into the space lane and hovered there, clearly waiting to track the Falcon’s route as it headed toward Glavis. There was no way they could go back and collect the spice they’d dumped without giving themselves away. Han could barely feel his fingers as he steered the Falcon away from a fortune in spice.

“Jabba knows exactly how many barrels we were delivering to Glavis,” Chewbacca said.

“Yeah.” A cold stone settled in Han’s stomach.

They were fucked.

#a smuggler's guide to joining the rebellion #or should it be 'joining the rebel alliance'?#wip weds #works in progress wednesday #my stuff #the things you find on tatooine #strange bedfellows

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spacetimewithstuartgary · 5 months ago

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New SpaceTime out Wednesday

SpaceTime 20240904 Series 27 Episode 107

New discoveries about the universe’s first galaxies

A new study has found that the universe’s first galaxies won’t overly massive after all but their central black holes made them seem brighter and bigger.

NASA’s Europa Clipper mission moving towards its October launch date

NASA’s Europa Clipper mission -- the largest spacecraft NASA has ever built for inter-planetary exploration – is on track for a launch window opening on October ten.

Falcon 9 launches put on hold following a spectacular landing failure

SpaceX have placed a hold on future launches of their Falcon 9 rocket after one of them caught fire, blew up, and fell into the sea as it was attempting to land on a drone ship following a successful mission to space.

The Science Report

Study shows face masks could cut common respiratory symptoms by 3.2%.

Scientists may be missing millions of undescribed extinction-prone insect species.

Study shows taking a break from screen time works wonders for kid’s mental health.

Alex on Tech: Social media’s censorship of the truth

SpaceTime covers the latest news in astronomy & space sciences.

The show is available every Monday, Wednesday and Friday through Apple Podcasts (itunes), Stitcher, Google Podcast, Pocketcasts, SoundCloud, Bitez.com, YouTube, your favourite podcast download provider, and from www.spacetimewithstuartgary.com

SpaceTime is also broadcast through the National Science Foundation on Science Zone Radio and on both i-heart Radio and Tune-In Radio.

SpaceTime daily news blog: http://spacetimewithstuartgary.tumblr.com/

SpaceTime facebook: www.facebook.com/spacetimewithstuartgary

SpaceTime Instagram @spacetimewithstuartgary

SpaceTime twitter feed @stuartgary

SpaceTime YouTube: @SpaceTimewithStuartGary

SpaceTime -- A brief history

SpaceTime is Australia’s most popular and respected astronomy and space science news program – averaging over two million downloads every year. We’re also number five in the United States. The show reports on the latest stories and discoveries making news in astronomy, space flight, and science. SpaceTime features weekly interviews with leading Australian scientists about their research. The show began life in 1995 as ‘StarStuff’ on the Australian Broadcasting Corporation’s (ABC) NewsRadio network. Award winning investigative reporter Stuart Gary created the program during more than fifteen years as NewsRadio’s evening anchor and Science Editor. Gary’s always loved science. He studied astronomy at university and was invited to undertake a PHD in astrophysics, but instead focused on his career in journalism and radio broadcasting. Gary’s radio career stretches back some 34 years including 26 at the ABC. He worked as an announcer and music DJ in commercial radio, before becoming a journalist and eventually joining ABC News and Current Affairs. He was part of the team that set up ABC NewsRadio and became one of its first on air presenters. When asked to put his science background to use, Gary developed StarStuff which he wrote, produced and hosted, consistently achieving 9 per cent of the national Australian radio audience based on the ABC’s Nielsen ratings survey figures for the five major Australian metro markets: Sydney, Melbourne, Brisbane, Adelaide, and Perth. The StarStuff podcast was published on line by ABC Science -- achieving over 1.3 million downloads annually. However, after some 20 years, the show finally wrapped up in December 2015 following ABC funding cuts, and a redirection of available finances to increase sports and horse racing coverage. Rather than continue with the ABC, Gary resigned so that he could keep the show going independently. StarStuff was rebranded as “SpaceTime”, with the first episode being broadcast in February 2016. Over the years, SpaceTime has grown, more than doubling its former ABC audience numbers and expanding to include new segments such as the Science Report -- which provides a wrap of general science news, weekly skeptical science features, special reports looking at the latest computer and technology news, and Skywatch – which provides a monthly guide to the night skies. The show is published three times weekly (every Monday, Wednesday and Friday) and available from the United States National Science Foundation on Science Zone Radio, and through both i-heart Radio and Tune-In Radio.

#science #space #astronomy #physics #news #nasa #astrophysics #esa #spacetimewithstuartgary #starstuff #spacetime #jwst #hubble space telescope #james webb space telescope

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queen-of-nerds1026 · 8 months ago

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Ninjago Drabbles; Reunion

"Jay, did you say the falcon was... programmed?" Wu asked incredulously.

Jay laughed "Oh boy, Sensei, where to start?"

Their voices droned on, eventually fading into muted background noise. Lilith stayed to herself in the corner, nervously twittling the edge of her scarf between her fingers. Her mind was racing, full of so much worry and stressed. Lloyd was in Pythor's control, her team knew her true identity, and now her father was here. Except... this wasn't the father she remembered.

Lord Garmadon had gone through a dramatic change; his pale skin turned into a deep black, remicinist of the night sky. His eyes were now a vibrant red with sharpened teeth. The biggest change of all, was now a second set of arms, protruding from his sides, just about even where his ribs are.

It was a lot for her to take in. Being a Garmadon was hard enough and now everything was just getting harder. A part of her hoped her father wouldn't notice her, what would she even say to him?

Of course, she couldn't get that lucky.

Garmadon had whispered something to Wu, who then ushered everyone out of the bridge, leaving Garmadon alone with his daughter.

The two were quiet. The only sounds on the bridge were the occasional beeping and pings on the large sonar screen and Garmadon's heavy breathing. The tension was so thick, it could be sliced through easily with Lilith's dagger. She avoided her father's gaze, keeping her dark eyes fixated at the ground beneath her feet.

Finally, Garmadon spoke up first. His tone was uneasy and hushed, clearly as nervous as his daughter. "Hi, Lilith."

"Hi, dad." Lilith mumbled back.

Garmadon coughed into his upper set of hands "Your hair is shorter now."

Unconsciously, Lilith reached her hand up to run her fingers through her short blonde messy pixie cut. She'd kept it short since... since she'd assumed her false identity when her father was banished.

"Oh, um," Lilith didn't lift her gaze "Yeah I... I cut it a while ago. Since um..."

"I was banished?" Garmadon finished for her

For the first time, Lilith looked up. Her father's face was twisted in shame, pain, and guilt. Despite the evil in his blood, and the scary exterior, she saw her father. The man who raised her, protected her, and loved her more than anything.

"It's okay," Garmadon said before Lilith could speak. "Your uncle told me everything. I know about your alias and why you took it. I understand it all."

She blinked in surprise. He wasn't upset? He didn't feel ashamed she hid from people know she was his daughter? Part of her knew he would understand, though. Even as a child, Garmadon had never made it public knowledge about his wife and children. He'd tried hard to keep them safe. Even when it failed when she was young, nobody came back to tell the world.

"I also know how much you've taken care of Lloyd."

Lilith's eyes began to water. Her chest seized up. Overwhelming guilt washed over her. She felt like she'd failed her brother. Changing her identity, leaving him at Darkley's, stopping him from releasing the Serpentine, and now being kidnapped by Pythor. If she'd done more or tried harder, then maybe...

"Dad, I..."

"I'm proud of you."

The tears fell free. "What?"

Garmadon gave her smile. Warm, genuine. "I'm proud of you. Because of me, you grew up so fast but you've done so good for yourself and watching out for your brother."

Lilith's tears streaked down her cheeks and fell into the deep purple fabric of her scarf, leaving dark wet spots. "But if I had tried harder, maybe I could've-"

"Stopped him?" Garmadon asked, cocking an eyebrow. "He's a young boy, getting into trouble is what he does. But he's lucky to have a great big sister like you who always saved him."

Her guilt began morphing into pride, thankfulness, and eased her self worth from how negative she viewed herself. She had been doing her best to protect her brother. She would get Lloyd back. On top of that, her dad was proud of her.

"I also heard you've become quite the ninja." Garmadon noted.

"Oh, yeah, it helps when you've been training at it for as long as I have." Lilith answered, brushing down the front of her violet colored gi.

The awkwardness dissipated more over time as the two talked. Lilith told her dad about everything he asked about her, missing the last eight years of her life made it easy to have plenty to talk about.

"So sensei left to find you," She finished her story of the last few days "Are you here to help us find Lloyd?"

"I never wanted you or your brother to end up like me." Garmadon said, turning his gaze out the large viewport window. "I'm sorry Lloyd has caused so much trouble trying to be like me."

Lilith sighed, nervously rubbing her gi sleeve. She glanced away from her father before slowly looking back. "You... you don't have to apologize, Dad. Although I don't agree with your evils... I'm glad you're my dad. I'm glad you're here to help us."

She pushed off the wall she was leaning on to cross the gap between them. Her boots tapped in 5 steady steps before she was giving her father a hug. He was much taller than her like this, his chest plate with cold, and it felt awkward reaching around his four arms, but she didn't mind. Beneath it, she felt warm and protected. As he embraced her, she felt her father again.

"I missed you, Dad."

Garmadon smiled softly, closing his eyes. "I've missed you, Lilith. We'll get Lloyd back safely, I promise."

#ninjago #ninjago masters of spinjitzu #ninjago garmadon #lord garmadon #ninjago oc #lilith garmadon #writing #drabble #oc #im back bitches #anyone remember my oc #wanted to work on a sweet moment #this takes place beginning s1 e10 #lilith is 18 in this scene #garmadon has been gone for 8 years #if anyone remembers her or has questions #please ask #i love talking about my ocs #anyway enjoy

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martha-stewart-cbd-gummies-buy · 1 year ago

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autonomousbosch · 2 years ago

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The Horror: Pain

There might as well have been a perfect imprint of a young girl on the wildly unkept grassy hill overlooking the shore of this particular river, just north of her village. She had, since she was a child, escaped to this very place. Sneaking away, she would phrase it, as if she were a convict slyly eluding her captives, as something about it brought her the kind of peace that recontextualized all else.

What would throughout her day be the standard pitter-pattering of busy feet became, in hindsight, sharp stamping of hurried, uncaring feet, mechanically herded into obligation. What would otherwise be petty school-child gossiping became the most blackened, bile-filled backbiting; bird-like chittering transfigured into sharp crow cawing with an edge so fine it would pierce the ears.

She had always been sensitive to sound for as long as she could remember, but here, a pleasant placidity was never threatened nor disfigured, even inadvertently. Field mice roamed amongst the grass free from falcons, a frog never so much as seized upon a ladybug for a morsel. Even their belly-flopping into the gentle lapping of the river itself seem refined, of sophisticated technique such that no disturbances existed; only things complimentary.

Most curiously was the mouth of a cave which she had never ventured into, a fear she felt not at all dissimilar from that of a landscape artist afraid of applying the wrong touch of yellow ochre which, when misplaced, would sully the very face of the earth. Still, despite the feeling that it must have been her imagination, she was sure that as she gazed into its maw, it revealed to her ears the sweetest, warming hum, so feint as to be almost undetectable. She had wondered about it for years afraid that a second opinion might contaminate its deep comfort.

After getting her fill, she returned back home. The thin wood door to her home shut with a hideous creaking as she gently put her soiled shoes to the ground. Her mother was busy, kneading bread for the evening on a wooden block, the same wooden block which she had kneaded dough out for years. The very chopping block beneath her powerful palms was disfigured, warped from years of use. Every fold was done with an experienced lifting and tucking, before violently slamming it onto the board whose uneven edges seemed to strike the counter even harder. It felt wrong to wince at dinner, but the young girl did anyway.

Her footsteps were light ascending the stairs to her room and yet, there was a step which always sounded as though even the lightest feather were a stampeding pachyderm and it agonized her so. Finally, she thought, reaching her bed with all of its gentle comforts. Just as she went to lay about it, it produces a new, discomforting sound. She expected the soft landing commensurate with fluffy down, yet it buckled underneath her as if a pile of bricks had been dumped upon it.

Lying there, still as possible, the hands of the watch seem to eternally drag, grinding against the ground itself. She would close her eyes, attempting to will the cacophony of life into a dull, droning morass of sound through force of will alone. Yet, just as she felt the power of success, it was violated by the sound of the dinner bell.

At the table, forks and knives noisily clinked and clanged. Dinner plates were sat unevenly, striking ceramic onto the sturdy wooden table. Her mother grabbed a serrated knife and began to saw downwards into the crusty loaf of bread, sending shrapnel flying from its hardened gold and black surface. She took her time, macerating wheat beneath the teeth of the knife. Her oafish father ate with his mouth open, and every time water touched his tongue he sounded as if it were the first time his thirst had ever been quenched. Just as her mother finally sliced the bread clean, the knife struck the counter, and her father, in his refreshed bliss, struck the bottom of his glass a bit too happily onto a dinner plate, immediately shattering it.

Her mother was furious. Her father was defensive. She began to feel a knot forming in the very core of her diaphragm and its twisting would not relent. Her mother was yelling, her father was limply apologizing. She shed a tear, and another soon followed. Her parents didn’t notice any of it in their noisy furor, and she excused herself again; feeling as though she were sneaking away though her parents cared much less than captors would have.

Again, she escaped to the bank of the river, turning her eyes toward the face of the cave to invite its warm humming. It filled her, so faithfully and immediately, that she could no longer abate her own curiosity. She crept toward it, and every pace pulled from her cheeks a deeper smile as its humming grew more discernible, its warmth more radiant. At the mouth of the cave were footsteps, puzzling artifacts which would have compelled her far more were she not raptured in bliss.

Moving into the vast hole, free of any fear or pain, she felt as though she were experiencing the soul-touching elation of liturgy, bellowing from her mortal coil to the sky on a Gregorian movement to heaven itself. She knew the atrium of this cave was near, that whatever was revealing such a wondrous call was destined to be near too.

A hound was howling. Its fur, matted with mange. From its mouth, blood had been seeping, staining the blued limestone red. Its back was arched, a creature stuck in permanent recoil. The tail, curled around the body, shivering in perpetual fear. Its front, right leg had withered, held up from the earth and convulsing; it looked as if it had not touched the ground in centuries. Terror fell upon her as she again looked at its face, its mouth hanging open, its throat vibrating. She gazed upon a creature of endless wounding.

How, she thought, her spine tightening, could a creature in so much pain make a noise so beautiful, a sound that could touch her so deeply. She seized, all except for her mind and her neck, too, as she gazed into the hound’s eyes. They were not in pain. They were the most placid thing the girl had ever laid her own eyes upon. Her terror met with confusion, and an impossible violence of resentment came before her. How could she enjoy the crying pain of another? How could the mortifying wail of another be music to her ears?

She convinced herself that the virtuous thing to do would be to end his suffering, to strike the hound so fiercely it would never know wounding again. Yet it endured, and in its enduring she grew angrier. She would strike, and stomp, and its crying lost nothing of its enchanting resound; it never broke its placid gaze from her eyes. For all the power she placed in her blows, she heard nothing of the sound, nor of the spattering of blood against the walls of the cave.

She relented, now horrified with herself. Her retreat back out of the cave was absent all grace, and the beautiful echo withered into a warm hum until it was finally nothing but a memory she would hope to one day forget. Her feet never touched the bank of the river again.

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nine-blessed-hero · 17 days ago

Text

For Love and Honour

CW: Swearing, genre-typical violence Modern AU Written for the 2023 TES Summer Fest prompt "Sword". Also available on AO3

The Blades looked down at the replica armour, pieces splayed over the living room floor, glittering brightly against the beige carpet in the early summer sun. "My pardon, sir," said Achille, his voice wane. "Might you run that by us again?" "It's very simple, Agent Legrand," Martin said. "I want to go to a reenactment event next weekend. There will be several talks by preeminent professors on the ancient history of computing. I'm very interested in hearing these lectures, and it's unlikely I'll get another chance. Jauffre has already run the risk assessment and approved it. Because it's a reenactment event, I thought we should… fit in, a little better." Martin clasped his hands, released and clasped them again. "No offence to your lovely dark suits, but you would stand out like sore thumbs. I'd rather not… concern anyone." "And a half-dozen knights in armour won't?" Baurus said. "Baby, c'mon. Really?" "Well." Martin looked at his hands, before raising his gaze, wide-eyed. "At least you'd be thematic? And look," he grabbed a chest plate, displaying a dark fabric lining. "They have Kevlar on the inside. Please?" "Marti, I ain't saying no… but that get-up's gotta weigh a tonne," Aderyn said. "I ain't gonna be able to do shit-all in that." "Oh. No – yes, I know that. For you, my dear, I had leather armour made up." Martin set down the steel chest plate and picked up a matt-black leather gorget, tooled with delicate leaf motifs. Aderyn gave it a considering look, then sniffed. "Alright. I'm sold. But word cannot get back to Peryite's crew about this. Ilvel will never let me hear the end of it." Caroline crossed her arms. "What are you and the non-combats going as?" Martin grinned, producing a circlet. "I'll be a king, of course. As my assistant, Lena has a very fetching Norse-inspired gown." "And I get to be a falconer," Arcturus said, stepping into the room, already dolled up a russet doublet and dark hose, one of his drones perched on a wrist. "How fetching?" asked Caroline, eyeing the silvery armour with a sly smile. "I'm given to understand she'll look very beautiful indeed." Achille and Baurus glanced at each other. Baurus sighed. Achille covered his face with a hand.

"How come I don't get a sword?" Aderyn said, as the group moved away from the entrance marquee and into the festival, the bright tents scattered like wildflowers on the summer-dry field. "Do you know how to use a sword, cariad?" Caroline replied. "I know how to use a staff. Can't be that hard?" Caroline chuckled, as Achille snorted. "At least Ms Drakosdottir got me an épée – something I know how to use – instead of that barbarous meat cleaver," he said, then plucked at the puffy split sleeves on his doublet. "Though I am still not sure about this froufrou." "My apologies, Monsieur Legrand," said Lena, the gold knotwork on the hem of her dress skating through the brittle grass. "I had assumed you would prefer the courtly style of your countrymen." "It is at least lighter than these two walking tanks," Achille said, raising an amused eyebrow as he gestured to Caroline and Baurus. "I think I look rather dashing," Caroline said, grinning. Lena said something in Old Norse, and Caroline grinned wider.

–

The day was going well. Nicknacks had been procured, two of three lectures attended without incident, and lunch was being taken below a spreading oak. A slight breeze made the dappled shade dance – one moment protecting, the next causing one to squint against the piercing sunlight. Baurus shaded his eyes as he watched Achille turn away another curious onlooker, trying to snap a picture of 'King' Martin, holding court under the tree. "Hey, babe?" "Yes, darling?" "Maybe we oughtta go get changed back into civilian clothing now? You've had some fun with the dress-up, but I think it's time to ditch it." "Oh? You're not too hot are you?" "No, no. That's not the problem. Your idea of fitting in was good, but the costumes have worked too well." Baurus waved at the small crowd, clustered several meters away. "We're kinda on the other side of 'not standing out'." "Ah… Unfortunately, I made a substantial donation to the event. In thanks, the organisers have invited us to watch the grand finale battle from the VIP stands. So I'm afraid we can't change until after that." Baurus pursed his lips. "You understand that if I feel there's a significant threat to your life caused by the costumes, there will be no choice?" Martin inclined his head. "Of course. And what is your current assessment?" Baurus grinned. "You can play King a little longer."

–

Mid-afternoon found Baurus and Martin, Caroline and Lena, and Acturus safely ensconced in a marquee, listening to the last lecture of the day. Outside, Aderyn lounged against the back of a wagon, looking every bit a rogue of yore as she watched the side entrance to the tent. She checked her watch – nearly the end of the day. Sure she looked good, but leather was sweaty and she was looking forward to a cold drink and a shower. "Control to Infl one, check in?" came Jena's dulcet voice over the comm. "Infil One here," said Achille, stationed at the front of the Talks tent. "Everything is, how you say, hunky-dory." Out of the corner of her eye, Aderyn noticed a dark figure standing further down the lanes caused by the backs of the tents. Jena gave a soft snort at Achille's turn of phrase and continued the round. "Control to Tank One, check in?" "Tank One here," said Baurus, his voice low. "We're like peaches in a can, but no threats." "Control to Infil Two, check in?" "Infil Two here," Aderyn said. "I've got a bogey. IC2 male, generic clothing but quick-release Magnums." "What's your read, Infil Two?" "Looks like he's actively waiting for something. Ain't lounging against nuffin' or looking at his phone." Aderyn paused. "Plus, he's giving me the willies." "The what?" Achille said. "Y'a know. The willies. The heebie-jeebies. The scrunchy feeling in your gut when summit's off." "Do a walk-past," Jena said, "but do not engage. Let's see what he does." "Copy that."

Aderyn pulled out her phone, flicking her gaze between the screen and her surroundings as if following instructions, as she slowly approached. When she was a few meters away, the man pulled back into the lane he was waiting in. "Infil Two to Control, he's on the move," Aderyn said, keeping her voice low. "Want me to follow?" "Confirmed, Infil Two – follow. But if you feel you're being drawn too far from your post, break off." "Roger that, Control." Aderyn followed the man as he moved along the lanes, skipping over guy ropes stretched too far back, skirting piles of unused costumes and idiosyncratic pallets of saran-wrapped merchandise.

At a dead-end, she stopped. The area was empty of people. Aderyn moved around, checking in likely hiding spots. "Dammit. I lost him. Doubling back now." "Copy that," said Jena. Aderyn turned around, starting back the way she'd come. Behind her, a tent flap shifted and out slipped the man. He crept towards her. Thin wire unspooled from between his gloved hands. He lept, and the wire wrapped around her neck.

–

Inside the tent, Lena set down her fan with a frown. Caroline glanced over as Lena pulled out her mobile from a waist pouch, the phone vibrating in her hand. Lena leant over, whispering into Caroline's ear, "It's the office. I need to take this." Caroline nodded, squeezing Lena's free hand. Lena rose, slipping out of the side entrance. The tent flap closed behind her. A scream, high and feminine, rang out. "Caroline!" Lena's voice, fading with distance.

Caroline was on her feet in an instant, head twisting from the tent flap to Baurus. "Go!" he said, and Caroline vanished through the flap. "Tank One, report," Jena said. "Sounds like Lena's been grabbed," Baurus said, looping an arm around Martin to draw him back from the tent edge. "Tank Two is in pursuit." "Copy that. Arty, aerial support." "On it," Arcturus said, snatching up the stiff leather case beside him and dashing outside. "Infil One-" "Moving into position now," Achille said, striding up the aisle as Baurus rose. "Infil Two, support Tank Two. Eyes in the sky, give directions." "Little… busy!" came Aderyn's strained voice. "Baurus?" Martin asked. "We've gotta go, sorry," Baurus said, steering Martin towards where Achille waited. "Wait!" Martin pulled out a business card and handed it to the lecturing professor, who blinked owlishly at the commotion. "I do apologise for the disruption. Your talk has been absolutely fascinating. Thank you for giving it." "Martin." "Yes, I'm coming." Achille took position on Martin's other side, as Baurus hustled him towards the tent's main exit.

–

"All hands, authorities have been alerted and are en route," Jena said, her tone tense but professional. "Infil Two, what's your status?" "Found… bogey." "You need to shake him off." "Trying!" "Please, Aderyn!" Caroline shouted, her voice pitchy and breathless through the comm. "I need backup!" "Yup. Coming!" The gorget was doing its job, giving Aderyn breathing space against the garotte. But her attacker was a tough bastard – unbothered by her attempts to free herself thus far. Aderyn sucked in a breath. Back to the classics with a Glaswegian Kiss then. Her head slammed back into the man's face. He staggered back, and Aderyn staggered forward, ripping the garotte from her neck. She pivoted, aiming a blow to his sternum, but he blocked. Using her arm as leverage, he brought her down. Aderyn hit the floor with a thud. But her disorientation cleared quickly, and she struck upwards, jabbing the pressure point on his knee. With a cry, he fell. Aderyn scrambled to her feet and ran.

"Arty! Directions!" Aderyn called, sliding down the side of a tent and into the main flow of foot traffic. "They're headed towards the main arena. Go east." "Copy." Aderyn ran, sliding through the crowds, ducking under a man carrying far too many steins of beer. "Tank Two, come back?" Aderyn's request was met with silence. "Tank Two! Christ. Arty, talk to me. What's happening with Tank Two?" "The assailants have reached the main arena, and they're going to the north end. Tank Two is still in pursuit. Infil Two, you need to cross to the next street. You've a left turn coming in 300 yards." "Copy that," Aderyn said, eyes on the gap in the tents. She took a sharp turn down it, nearly colliding with a juggler and her troubadour. The troubadour's gittern twanged. The juggler fumbled her coloured wooden balls; Aderyn caught them, tossing them back to a smattering of applause before she was off again. "Infil Two, Tank Two has engaged one of the assailants. Damn, she is good with a sword." "Arty!" "Focus, Eyes in the Sky," came Jena's reprimand. "The second assailant looks like he's aiming for the caravan exit. Infil Two, you need to go to the next street over to cut them off." "Copy," Aderyn said breathlessly, as she leapt over a pair of children playing Magic: The Gathering. "Art, turn?" "600 yards, left." Aderyn wove through the press of people, as a shout came from behind her, followed by the sound of something smashing. "Fuck. Anyone got eyes on my six?" Aderyn asked. "Let me get another bird up," Arcturus said. "No need," Achille said. "We can see the large angry man from here. Just keep going Infil Two. I'll slow him down." "But Gold-" "Tank One has him. 'Sides, we've not had any trouble." "Confirmed," Arcturus said. "All their attention is on Lena." "Copy." Over the comms came a pained cry. "Aderyn! Hurry!" Caroline yelled. "I'm coming!" Aderyn said. "This place is filled with people." She took the corner, jostling a stack of caged birds, which clucked loudly. "And chickens. Why are there chickens?" "Infil Two, your exit is in 600 yards. You'll be coming out almost level with Lena's assailant." "Copy," Aderyn said as she approached a stall selling forged, blunted weaponry. The proprietor was demonstrating a fancy-looking dagger to a customer. Aderyn snatched it from his hand as she passed, yelling, "Tamriel Industries, I'll bring it back!"

Then she was out of the press of people between tented stalls, and onto a swathe of grass, the arena ahead. A crowd had formed at the southern end, watching Caroline and the kidnapper duking it out, seeming to assume this was part of the event as they cheered for the knight in her shining armour, and booed for the anachronistic bad-guy. Aderyn dithered. "I'm in position. Caroline or Lena?" she asked. "Lena!" Caroline yelled. "Gold agrees," Baurus said. "He said if they're after her, they don't care about the Oblivion Vault, they want company secrets instead. Lena knows just as much, if not more, about TI's workings as he does." "Copy." Aderyn moved up towards the VIP stands, decked out in heraldic flags, and ducked under the orange safety ropes below them. Lena was doing her best to fight as the man holding her dragged her towards the exit. With his attention distracted, Aderyn crept towards the man's back, putting a finger to her lips for the one child who noticed and seemed about to warn the assailants. At the final meter, she lept, grabbing the assailant's hair and putting the blunted dagger to his neck. "Let the woman go, or I slit your throat," Aderyn said. The man froze. "I mean it!" she said, pressing harder. He let go of Lena, holding his hands out, and she fell forward. "Lena, go up into the VIP stands. Achille will be here soon." Lena ran. "You know," the man said, his accent faintly Slavic, "you are holding that wrong." "What?" Aderyn's attention snapped away from watching Lena escape. The man looped a foot around her ankle, snatching the dagger away as she landed on her back. "If you really want to slit someone's throat, you hold it like this." He leant over, dragging the smooth blade against the side of Aderny's neck. "Good to know," she said, kicking him in the nuts. He hissed out in pain, backing off as Aderyn gained her feet.

"Fuck!" yelled Achille. "Infil One, what's your status?" "The bastard gave me the slip," Achille yelled. "Arcturus, need eyes! "Searching," Arcturus said. "There. Damn… Tank Two, Infil Two, he's headed your way." "Copy," Aderyn said. "I will divert to secure Lena," Achille said, as Caroline let out a roar. "Or I can not?" From the other end of the field, the crowd cheered as Caroline's assailant went down like a sack of potatoes. "Infil One, confirmed for you to secure Lena," Aderyn said. "Tank Two is, uh, having a moment." "Tank One to Control, I'm taking Gold out via the South exit." "Confirmed, Tank One," Jena said. "Infil One, as soon as you have Lena, follow Tank One and egress through the South exit." "Copy," Achille said. The crowd cheered again, as Caroline flicked sweat-drenched hair from her face. She lofted her sword above her head, roaring, "Let him come!" "Is anyone else worried about that?" Aderyn asked. "They tried to kidnap the light of her life," Baurus said, an edge to his voice. "I think she's allowed a little leeway." "Negative, Tank One," Jena snapped. "Infil Two, get Tank Two off the field before she does something stupid. Authorities are in-bound imminently and site security should be with you now. They'll take care of the assailants. I want everyone back at the van ASA. Copy?" In the corner of her eye, Aderyn could see heavyset men approaching from the corner of the arena, dressed in studded leather and chainmail. She nodded, backing away from the kidnapper. "Copy that."

Aderyn turned, clapping as she approached the southern end, "Caroline ap Ynys Môn, everyone! Defeating–" "Behind you!" screamed a trio of young voices, just as Aderyn was barrelled off her feet. She rolled, but before she could rise, a foot found her stomach. Aderyn grunted, the comms just a babble of noise as she curled into a ball, avoiding a steel toe to the face, but not the one to her spine. Then: the flash of sun on metal. A roar, like a dragon. "Ewch oddi arni, fuckers!" Bodies went pinwheeling away from her. Aderyn groaned, the brief noise of battle dying as suddenly as it began to half-hearted cheers and confused murmurings from the crowd. "Aderyn bach." Caroline, glittering in her armour reached a hand down, her accent thicker than usual. "Are you hurt?" Aderyn took the proffered hand and came to her knees. Their assailants were being wrestled to the ground and handcuffed by the large, armour-clad security she'd seen before. "I hate to admit it," Aderyn said, "but I think the Doc's gonna need to look me over." She started to use Caroline's strong arm to pull herself to her feet when there was a cry in Norse. Caroline dropped her hand as pounding feet approached. Aderyn fell on her butt with a curse as Lena flew into Caroline's arms. Caroline swept Lena up. They swung around, the golden knotwork of Lena's dress flashing in the sun. Lena's feet came back to the ground and Caroline dipped towards her as they shared a passionate kiss. A riotous cheer went up from the crowd.

Achillie came trotting up, stopping beside the still-sitting Aderyn, and crossed his arms. "And the day is saved once again, no?" he said with a wry chuckle. "We don't have to put this in our reports, right?" Aderyn asked, watching Caroline and Lena taking in the crowd's delight. "The Director won't be interested in reading about kissing, will he?" "And deny him the honour of reading about the most pure and passionate kiss since the invention of kissing?" Achille glanced down with a grin. Aderyn blinked. "Was that a Princess Bride reference?" "This was a fairytale ending, was it not?" Aderyn could only laugh in response. They watched as Lena and Caroline, arm in arm, played up to the crowd – blowing kisses and accepting handshakes – both radiant with joy and love in the glittering summer sun.

#tesfest23 #writing #hero of kvatch #oc aderyn griffiths #caroline #oc lena drakosdottir #martin septim #baurus #the blades #modern oblivion AU #haven's ember series #TESFic #oblivion fanfiction #oblivion fanfic #tes oblivion #The Elder Scrolls #wandering words #yes I only just finished it now - hush your face. I think I'm finally happy with the ending...

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