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karikarasuno · 4 years ago

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The Sun Doesn’t Shine in Tokyo, Part II

Pairing: Tanaka Ryunosuke x Fem!Reader

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: Angst, Character Death(s), Violence, Graphic Descriptions of Injuries, Mentions of Blood, Grief, Smut, Soft Sex, Vague knowledge of Computer Engineering (once again, please bear with me)

Summary: The end is near. Time is quickly running out. Hope is fleeting, but not entirely gone.

Part I | Part II

Word Count: 9.8k

June 17, 2065

8:24am

It’s morning. The digital clock on his bedside table flashed 8:24am, the angular digits barely seen through the grogginess of your sleepy brain. You shift to go back to sleep, which easily draws you in until there’s a stinging burn on your side. Your wound is itchy and uncomfortable.

“Shh,” fingers are brushing the hair on your forehead from your eyes. “Just gimme a second. This is gonna hurt.”

A wet cloth is pressed to the wound, the stinging sensation returning as you feel the alcohol clean out the dirt and grime from the night before. You squeeze your eyes shut and bite your lip to deal with the temporary pain. “I’m sorry, a little longer then I’ll be done.”

The cloth is removed as you sit up to rest on the headboard, too awake after the cold stinging to go back to bed. A calloused hand comes to stroke your cheek, chapped lips pressing a tender kiss to your temple. “Morning,” you croak, voice rough with sleep.

“G’morning, baby,” you can tell he’s been up for a while, the hoarseness that usually cracks his voice almost entirely gone.

“I should probably shower and then head downstairs. I never actually got the chance to brief everyone on what happened.”

“Don’t worry about it. Yamaguchi already did late last night. So just shower and meet me in the conference room for breakfast,” Tanaka explains before he pushes off his side of the bed, fully dressed as he places clean clothes for you on his dresser. Yachi probably gave them to him this morning and you remember you have to apologize to her today since you most likely sent her into cardiac arrest last night.

Lethargy and anticipation dictate the way you go about your morning, hardly remembering how you ended up sitting between Tanaka and Yamaguchi at the first officer strategy meeting of the day, showered and your gash freshly wrapped. Suga and Daichi are running it, images of the city’s infrastructure holographically displayed above the switchboard. The 3D landscape spinning and flickering as they outline different plans for tonight.

You didn’t realize your leg was bouncing beneath the table until Tanaka’s hand spread out on your thigh to stop it. “You listening?” He questions staring at you intently. Your thoughts have honestly traveled elsewhere, so you shake your head no.

“Do you have the tracking device?” Daichi repeats.

“Oh, no I don’t,” you lean forward and adjust your posture. “I slipped it into Oikawa’s pocket before he lost his shit, but I’m not sure if it survived the crash,” you explain, recalling the exact moment when he was gripping your chin, the distraction of your dagger on his sternum giving you enough time to plant it on him.

“We’ll have to ask Kenma then, maybe he can still locate it. And if that’s the case we’ll be able to see where he is, what he’s up to.”

The meeting continues, your attention drifting in and out trying to formulate a solid plan of your own. Something to ensure that everyone makes it out alive. After your encounter with Iwaizumi you were especially concerned about fighting an army of volunteers. Not that you weren’t confident in the people here, but you managed to plunge your dagger into one of his arteries and he still got up at Oikawa’s demand.

“The tunnels are a no go,” Yamaguchi says at some point when they began deciding on entry routes. “The grenade I threw blocked the only entrance we had into the basement.” You nod in confirmation as you remember the chunks of rubble and debris that were now closing in the stairs.

“The main entrance is our best shot. It’s bold and what they’ll least be expecting. There’s also a chance we could disarm the alarm system if we can break through the firewall. We have the manpower, the only unknown are the volunteers and what they’re fully capable of,” you add on, the floorplan of the estate replacing the flickering city. You stand to describe the various points of entry and what you assume would be the places they are most likely going to have guards stand outside.

“You should have the long range fighters stationed here,” your finger hovers over a patch of tall trees near one of the side doors. “And here,” you shift to point out an area near the front that is also beneath the shadows of the woods.

“Those specialized in hand to hand combat should form the frontlines, while everyone else flanks out in a diamond formation. Yachi in the middle with y/n and Yamaguchi,” Suga suggests while he visually demonstrates the formation on one of the large screens. “Since Yachi doesn’t have much combat experience Tanaka and Terushima will go with them,” he tacks on, giving Tanaka a pointed look.

“And obviously because the two of you are practically useless with your injuries,” Suga teases before he proceeds to assign and explain other roles. The rest of the meeting moves forward without a hitch and everyone agrees on the plan that factored in as many uncertainties as possible. The chairs scrape against the floor as the officers shuffle out to start preparing for tonight.

You stand with Tanaka’s hand in yours and start to make your way through the first floor before you stop in front of one of the only staircases in the building. “I’m actually gonna go visit Kenma,” you explain as Tanaka looks at you silently confused.

“I wanted to ask him a few questions before tonight,” you add as you slip your hand from his and he gives you a solid shrug.

“Alright, I’ll be in the vault, checking the inventory,” he grins, his hands circling your waist to pull you into his sturdy frame. “Maybe I’ll be able to find you a better weapon,” he bends to toy with the dagger on your thigh that you refused to travel without after last night.

“Better?!,” you feign offense. “You don’t think my dagger makes me look sexy?” You grin cheekily at him as his own teasing smile spreads across his face.

“Oh, I always think you look sexy. But you know what would make you look even sexier,” he leans down so that he’s staring directly into your eyes, voice dipping low. “Protection,” his eyes glint with mischief and a knowing smirk settles on his lips.

You shove him lightly and playfully smack the side of his head, his beanie shifting sideways. “Haha so funny,” you roll your eyes as your smile brightens. “Gimme some options and we’ll see.”

“That’s what I like to hear,” he responds when you turn around to walk away, his palm smacking your ass as you bound up the steps. “Payback for the beanie,” his hands rise in defense before he winks at you and turns to keep walking down the hall.

You take the steps two at a time like you usually do, except now you have your healing gash as a reminder to slow down. Unlike the other floors in the building the second level is a single large room coined the “Zone” by many of the guys. One half hosts Kuroo’s test lab, usually unkempt with sulfur and boiling chemical concoctions covering the surfaces. The other half belongs to Kenma with his various half built devices stuck between keyboards and multicolored wires.

While Kuroo often ventures out into the other rooms of the hideout to seek socialization, you can always find Kenma sitting exactly where he is now. Headset nestled over his ears, hair pulled back in a messy bun with his controller tight in his hands.

You walk up behind him and pull one of the cuffs from his ear. “Hey loser,” you release the set from your grasp so it snaps back on to his head, this time all lopsided.

“Not a loser,” he responds as he shakes his head so that the headphones fall back around his neck. His screens flashing a bold ‘victory’ to affirm that he is, in fact, not a loser.

“You are the only person I know who can play video games the day our world might end,” you say with a laugh when he shoots you an apathetic stare.

The relationship between you and Kenma developed rather naturally, a sibling connection unfolding before either of you realized. On your many sleepless nights wandering and exploring the compound you often found yourself here. At first, you stumbled upon him accidentally in the middle of the night, while everyone else was either asleep or working on their own projects to prepare for the upcoming conflicts. He awkwardly invited you to sit with him as he played or tinkered with new or semi thought out inventions. You really only watched at first, curiosity overcoming your intentions to not disturb him, but you soon found yourself asking questions. The questions turning into overnighters where he would teach you how to play his favorite games or help him code software he would embed in his tiny devices.

He puts his remote down and swivels in his chair to face you. “I was brainstorming,” the corner of his lips quirk up a little as he gets up and bumps your shoulder with his to step around you.

“Brainstorming what exactly?” You ask, your eyes following his thin frame as he walks to his crafts table and picks up a few things. He tilts his head to signal for you to walk over to him. “I’ll show you.”

You move to stand beside him and he hands off the small devices to you. You inspect them and realize they are watches, complete with a touch screen center and small dials on each side.

“These are reinforcement devices,” he says. “I don’t have enough for everyone but you clasp them around your wrist and twist the dials. A shield will manifest from here,” he points to the watch’s face, and what you incorrectly assumed was a touch screen surface is actually a reflection of the software’s veil.

“This is actually the code you helped me develop a few weeks back.” You smile up at him fondly, remembering the argument you got into after he refused to explain what it was for.

“How many do you have?”

“Six are complete,” he answers. “But I also have this.” He grabs a larger cylindrical device from a shelf attached to the wall.

“This is essentially a bigger version of those. The shield covers way more surface area. You can stick it to a wall or door, enter the pin and the shield will reinforce the structure to protect whatever’s inside,” he finished explaining before he places it back on the shelf.

“When did you have time to do all of this?” His production rate when it comes to his inventions is impressive to say the least.

He takes some of the reinforcement devices from you to organize them beside the others. “You know I hardly sleep,” he shrugs as if his lack of rest doesn’t bother you.

You open your mouth to voice this for the millionth time, but he lifts his finger to shush you. “Don’t. I get it,” he interrupts.

“Fine. But this doesn’t explain why you were brainstorming,” you say instead of nagging him about his awful sleep schedule, not that yours was really any better.

“Right,” he slides you over by your shoulders to switch spots. “This is for you,” he opens the locker in the corner of the room to pull something out. It’s another round device about two inches thick with small legs to hold it up.

“What’s this?” Your intrigue successfully piqued.

“Just watch,” he walks to Kuroo’s lab table and pushes some stuff around to clear a spot.

“I’ve been working on this for a while now,” he grabs his phone from his back pocket and punches in his password and then opens an app. The device begins to illuminate as streaks of ultraviolet waves burst through the top. “It’s a simulation machine that kinda works. I can’t seem to get the graphics right for some reason, hence the gaming,” he explains.

“So you’re saying you wouldn’t have been playing regardless,” you say, which earns you an eye roll from him and a chuckle from you.

“Pay attention,” he points to the device, redirecting your attention instead of answering you. There’s a distinct humming noise before the room’s image starts to ripple. A pixelated version of a beach envelopes the room warping and disguising the furniture.

“It’s not perfect, but it’s an illusion that can trick enemies into believing they are somewhere else,” he whispers, looking a bit sheepish. “I’ve only been able to generate this stock photo, but eventually I want it to replicate different rooms or even scenery we haven’t experienced in a while.”

“Kenma,” your voice is wistful as you absorb the sway of the palm trees, the gentle rolling of the waves lapping the shores. “This is amazing. H-how did you do this?”

“I had Yachi’s help. She came up one night freaking about the control center’s algorithm and asked if I could help since you and Yamaguchi were already asleep. We ended up talking about sunsets, mainly her rambling,” he lightly snorts. “So I showed her some games with high resolution graphics that had some pretty cool sunsets and she came up with this. She coded it really quickly while I built it. I just haven’t been able to fix the kinks.”

You were near tears. The words escaped you, but mostly because you could never describe what you were feeling out loud. The snapshot of a panicking Yachi running to Kenma makes you laugh because there is no way he calmed her down without having a silent stroke of his own.

“And this is for me?” You ask for clarification before the tears really start falling.

“Yeah,” he raises his hand to rub at the back of his neck. “Other than computer engineering, you are really the only thing we have in common.”

“Kenma, I-,”

“Woah!” You both turn to what used to be the floor’s entrance, which is now limitless sand. “The beach! This is so cool!” Hinata squeals, his eyes lighting up with wonder and amazement.

“Oh hey, Shoyo,” Kenma fumbles with his phone to turn off the display.

“What’s up?” You’re grateful for his interruption, afraid you were about to become a sobbing mess in front of Kenma, which he would not have appreciated.

“Tanaka asked me to come get you,” his smile is wide and enthusiastic. “Said something about your options being ready.”

“Of course he actually went through with it,” you shake your head not the slightest bit surprised.

“Also said if you don’t hurry he’s not afraid to kick some ass,” Hinata adds on, his smile turning impishly cheeky.

“Of course he did,” you laugh before turning back to Kenma, who’s a subtle shade of red.

“We aren’t done here,” you tell him, knowing how flushed he gets when he’s alone with Hinata and you walk away from him backwards until you’re standing behind your new guest. “Watch him, he’s known to cause trouble,” you whisper to Hinata but it’s still loud enough from him to hear you.

“Oh, I know,” he plays along, only for Kenma’s neck to burn a brilliant red as Hinata steps further into the Zone. You make kissy faces behind his back to tease him as much as possible before you run down the stairs, narrowly missing the object he threw at you.

June 17, 2065

4:57pm

The gun is spinning on the turntable in front of you. The gun you and Tanaka compromised on. It’s a small black pistol, the deep metal drinking in the harsh light from the screens lining the walls as it spins and spins. In the center of the room, Yachi is typing vigorously, the reversal code practically finished, but she tended to be a perfectionist, so you sit beside her waiting for it to be done.

“I can help,” you offer, hoping she will let you this time. She just glances at you, a flick of anxiety flashing in her gaze before she shakes her head no.

“Why not?”

“It’s already done,” she responds, fingers still tapping on the keys. “I just have to double check if everything is in order.”

“Well, what is it?” You’ve been begging for her to share the code with you, trying to convince her that it would be smarter if more than one person had it, especially if she’s not able to reach the control center in time.

“Not telling you,” her hair falls to cover her face as she looks down at her stilled hands. “It has to be me. I just need for you to get me there.”

“Yachi, c’mon, at least tell Yams,” you argue, not understanding why she won’t share the information with anyone.

“S-sorry,” is all she says in response, and you let out an agitated sigh because you won’t win this argument. “What’s with the gun?” She motions towards it with her hand as she leans back in her chair, avoiding the initial topic.

“Tanaka doesn’t believe my dagger is enough protection,” you look back down at the spinning gun and your chest tightens at the mere idea of having to use it. “It was this or a fucking katana.”

She laughs, the abruptness startling you, but she doubles over and wheezes. A blush is blooming on her cheeks at the lack of oxygen going to her lungs, her laugh turning into hiccups and breathless gasps. It’s contagious, your own laugh soon wracking through you.

“I don’t get it,” you say through snorts. “What’s so funny?”

“I cannot imagine you wielding a katana,” tears of laughter are decorating her face. “You’d probably accidentally cut off your own arm before you manage to land it on anyone else.” She’s wiping the tears from her eyes as her breath slowly returns, her cheeks still flushed a pretty pink.

“I take offense to that. I would be such a badass with one,” you rebuttal.

“Sure,” she squeaks out.

“I just might need a little practice first.”

She falls into a fit of giggles again, probably imagining you tripping over the long blade forgetting that she’s the clumsy one. Your cheeks are hurting from smiling, a warmth rooting itself within you, and for the first time in weeks the flower of hope feels like it will bloom soon. The delicate petals unfurling with a promise of prosperity, a promise that things will be okay.

“Hey,” Tanaka bursts through the door, a little out of breath like he ran here. “Kenma was able to track Oikawa. He’s still at the estate, probably never left.”

“You think he’s still alive?” You jump from your seat, Yachi at your side in an instant.

“Definitely. Yamaguchi said you left him in the basement, but Kenma can see his movements and he’s currently on the move.”

“But what if it’s not him? What if someone just found his body and is carrying it around?” You are skeptical, unsure if Oikawa was able to survive two gunshot wounds and a crash.

“First of all, that’s nasty,” he wrinkles his nose in disgust. “Second of all, I don’t think it matters. The person, Oikawa or not, is heading to the control center. We have five hours before the thing is set to explode, so we leave in four.”

“Got it. The reversal code is ready,” Yachi interjects before you can. “I’m ready,” she straightens her shoulders, eyes determined as she meets yours.

You grab the gun that is now still on the table and place it in the holster on your hip. “Me too.”

June 17, 2065

9:22pm

The front of the estate is surrounded by steel poles, roughly 16 feet tall. Weaved between each pole are copper wires that conduct heat and electricity constantly, making it difficult to enter without burns or electric shocks. Fortunately, Kenma was able to hack into the compound's firewall rather easily since it had been abandoned for months and disconnected the alarm system.

The group gathers around the front gate, those who specialize in combat form the first row and once you enter the plan is to split into various smaller groups. You would head straight to the control center with Yachi and Yamaguchi, while Tanaka and Terushima serve as bodyguards. Yamaguchi’s ankle is doing better, his limp gone and the reinforcement device adorning his wrist. You are all wearing bulletproof vests, the material surprisingly thin and breathable as it’s strapped over your tank top. Your cut is safely hidden beneath it.

The gates are set to open at 9:30, the distance fighters successfully hidden in the trees while everyone else fans out on either side of your group. Kuroo managed to hand out flash grenades and smoke bombs to every unit, the sulfur in the lab results of failed bombs that blew up prematurely. You search the crowd counting the bodies, committing the number to memory; twenty-six, hoping that it will be the same when you exit tonight.

Kenma is standing next to Kuroo and you watch as he sends up a mini drone. The device flying into the trees and an image of Hinata and Nishinoya flash on his phone. The boys are settled high up in the trees, Noya’s crossbow strapped to his back, while Hinata is busy tying knots into rope, his knives and shuriken hidden beneath his clothing.

You start to feel the signs of a tension headache strain your neck, the anticipation sucking your soul from the confines of your skin. Tanaka is kneeling in front of you and you stare at the muscles of his back flex and relax through his black sleeveless shirt as he laces up his boots. Once he’s finished he twists on the balls of his feet to face you, hands going to check your laces and tucking the hem of your cargos into them, your ankles thanking him for the extra support.

“It’s almost time,” he whacks your thigh so you look down at him. “You ready?”

You give him a small nod, “As ready as I’ll ever be.”

“You remember the plan, right? Once we enter those doors you stay behind me. I’ll say when the coast is clear, but if things get too crazy, Yachi is the priority,” he rises from his position. “Get her to the control center, then find me. Don’t do anything irrational,” he finishes.

You give him a nervous laugh, “I’ll try.”

“No, it’s not you’ll t-”

“I’m kidding, Ryu,” you cut him off.

“Not funny, love,” he turns around to settle next to Terushima, whose arm is extending behind him, pinky linking with Yamaguchi’s.You link your arms with Yachi’s as you wait, only five more minutes left.

“Welcome!” Everyone’s attention snaps to the balcony above the double doors of the entrance. Oikawa is standing there, pale and bloody. “I wasn’t expecting to have this many guests come to watch the end with me. This is so heartwarming.”

The gates creak and shudder as they shuffle open. Volunteers begin to reveal themselves from their hiding spots to gather at the front doors, but no one on your side of the gates moves. Your hand wraps around the hilt of your dagger and your stance shifts so that Yachi is partially blocked by you.

He spots you in the crowd and he has the nerve to smirk at you, the once endearing gesture looks pained on his hollowed cheeks and sunken eyes. A daunting beauty transforming his features. “Oh, darling, I’ve been expecting you,” he waves with his good hand, his injured arm is supported with a sling.

“I’m sure you’re glad to see me alive, but Iwa didn’t make it,” you can’t tell if he actually is pained by this with the way he sulks and leans on the rails. “So obviously I can’t let you leave here alive,” he giggles, almost drunkenly. “An eye for an eye or whatever they used to say.”

“I’ll kill him,” Tanaka snarls, gun pointing at Oikawa. You grip his arm to yank it down, fully aware that now is not the time.

“What was that about being irrational?” You hiss at him so he lowers his weapon. Oikawa sees this and you watch his entire demeanor change, his taunting gaze igniting into something far more terrifying.

“Who’s this, princess? You brought me a new toy?” His tone is flat, monotone. “Since you killed my last one!” You flinch at the rise in his voice, the rebels frozen in disbelief, a motivating fear beginning to billow through the crowd.

“We need to move,” Daichi’s deep voice diminishes Oikawa’s immediately. “NOW,” he screams and he’s the first on the move, gun firing shot after shot in the volunteers’ direction.

“STOP THEM!” Oikawa’s shrill shriek is hardly heard above the sounds of battle, but the volunteers do not hesitate. Their smell smacking the air from your lungs, no description adequate enough to warn you. Yachi’s hand is now firm in yours as you run close behind Tanaka. Your dagger unsheathed as your biceps tense with untapped energy. You slip through the front doors quickly, most of the fighting designated to those who formed the front lines.

You deduce that the volunteers are abnormally strong as you witness them tear metal like paper, and crack the estate’s concrete in single punches. Luckily, they are incredibly slow, their limbs swing and jerk in unsynchronized movements, as if they are babies taking their first steps. The rebels on the other hand are nimble, even the largest members fight with the agility of trained ballerinas, their movements fluid and graceful.

You yell for Tanaka and Terushima to take the stairs down to the basement. The claustrophobic idea of being stuck in an elevator is enough to stop your heart. Terushima reaches the door first, the force with which he tears it open rips it from its hinges.

You fly down the first flight, your grip on Yachi never loosening. Yamaguchi brings up the end, he’s holding nunchucks that you have no idea where he got them from. He flicks his wrist to swing them at one of the volunteers that followed you, the wood thwacking against her nose, splatters of blood erupt from her skull and dot Yamaguchi’s skin as she crumples to the floor, her body splaying out across the steps. “Don’t stop running!” He yells, hand grabbing Yachi’s elbow pushing you down the final flight to the basement.

The elevator dings at the end of the hallway, a ghastly Oikawa steps through and you catch a glimpse of silver. At first, you thought it had to be his veins visible through his milky skin, but now you can see the thin lines of silver snaking throughout his body. “He did not look like that yesterday,” Yamaguchi skids to a stop behind you.

Tanaka and Terushima have their weapons raised in front of you, a spear twirling in Teru’s hand. “Where’s the control room, Oikawa?” Tanaka calls out, his voice dripping with poison.

“Why would I tell you when they already know?” He quips, his retort losing substance when a wet cough breaks through his chest. “As you can see I can’t put up much of a fight,” he coughs again, dribbles of thinning blood leaks from his lips. “Iwa’s device doesn’t suit me too well,” he leans his neck to the side, a sickening pop coming from it.

“Iwa’s what?” You say it before you mean to, the situation only becoming creepier with every drop of new knowledge.

“You see, when Iwa was crushed, I found his body in the rubble. The implants we use jutting out from the skin between his shoulder blades, so I tore it out,” he staggers towards your group, the leg he was shot in scraping against the floor with each step. “I inserted it into the bullet wound above my knee,” he points to his twisted leg. “That way Iwa and I will always be together.”

“Dude, what the fuck,” Terushima says behind his hand as he gags. The smell of rotting flesh and rusty metal wafting through the hall with each drag of Oikawa’s leg.

You know he’s not down here alone, that he probably has volunteers stationed somewhere near the control center, but that’s down the hall, through another room. The five of you don’t stand a chance alone without knowing exactly how many are here. You also know that Oikawa’s breaths are numbered, his body actively rejecting the implant stealing away his time like he’s stalling yours.

“But if you really want to know,” he draws in a shallow breath and stops a few feet away from your group. “The control center is down this hall through that room,” he points to his right, the door cracked open. “I’ll let you pass, but good luck. I already input the code,” he inches towards the door and dramatically looks at his watch. “Seems like you only have 8 minutes.”

He wags his fingers at you as he leans into the door, his weight pushing it open fully and he disappears in the darkness. Tanaka’s running first, fluidly rushing to the open door, but before he reaches it many of the other ones open. Decaying bodies hauling the burden of their transformation into the corridor. “Ryu, wait!” You call out to him but he’s already surrounded. He unsheathes the sword strapped to his back and swings it out in a swift circular arc to force the volunteers back. You count seven in total, all focused dangerously on your boyfriend.

Terushima bends down in front of the three of you and unzips the pouch clipped around his hips. “Fall back,” he says.

“What’re you gonna do?” Yamaguchi bends at the waist to look over his shoulder. “I’m gonna use one of the stun grenades to distract them. Tanaka’s quick on his feet and he’ll know he only has a split second to escape. But first I need you guys to fall back.”

You’re hesitant at first, but Yachi tugs you away from them while Yamaguchi follows, still a step ahead. “Tanaka, get ready!” Terushima yells before he pulls the clip and tosses it. The grenade rolling to a stop at Tanaka’s feet.

“Get down,” you turn to tackle Yachi in your arms, your body shielding her from any fallout. The flashes and popping noises signaling its detonation. You look up when some of the noise dies down, the door leading to the control center swinging wildly while the volunteers trip over themselves, disoriented and scattered at the end of the hall. You missed the exact moment, but three of the volunteers were now on the ground, their implants sliced out from their shoulder blades. The pincers on the devices opening and closing in search for their host.

“Thanks, Tanaka,” Teru whispers in awe. “Impressive bastard took three of ‘em out on his own and discovered that you disable them by removing those creepy shits,” he laughs.

“Okay, babe, we’ll go in before the ladies,” he stands and helps Yamaguchi to his feet. “You take the small one in the corner. Leave the three big guys to me,” he smirks.

“Now’s not the time to compete, Teru,” Yamaguchi sighs, grabbing a switchblade from his pocket, while clutching the revolver in his other hand.

“A little healthy competition never hurt nobody,” he nudges Yamaguchi with his shoulder, sending him a sly wink. “Trust me.”

The boys bolt forward, weapons in hand as they twirl in combat, the first heavy body thumping to the ground. They clear the path for you and Yachi quickly, the space in front of the door now empty.

You grab Yachi and book it. Your concern for Tanaka’s safety rises exponentially as you rush to the control center, where he and Oikawa surely are.

The room opens up and near the center you see Oikawa and Tanaka arguing loudly, Tanaka’s gun pointing at Oikawa while he grips the sword behind him to keep the volunteers at bay. The control center is blinking, digital numbers floating above the panel counting down ominously. You have five minutes left and the prospects of disabling the system are low. The ring of volunteers lining the perimeter is your main obstacle because at any given moment their motionless blank stares could be activated.

“What do we do?” Yachi whispers hurriedly beside you, no one noticing the two of you enter the room yet.

“We get you to the panel in the next five minutes. How?” You’re trying to think as fast as possible. “I don’t know yet.” Thoughts are racing through your mind, words popping out to form some coherent thought before you rattle out your best plan.

“I’ll distract Oikawa. You run as fast as you can to the panel,” you suggest. “And we pray some of the other rebels show up as back up.”

“That doesn’t sound like a very good plan,” Yachi bites the nail on her thumb.

“Well unless you have something better, I can’t think of anything else,” you respond, eyebrows raised and she shakes her head no.

“So just walk behind Oikawa and hopefully he won’t see you. Once you’re out of his line of sight I’ll say something to get his attention,” you explain.

“Got it,” she nods, releasing your hand as she steps across your body to start moving towards the control center. The boys are still arguing and you get the sense that Tanaka knows you're there. Coincidentally, maneuvering his body to obscure Yachi until she isn’t visible to him.

“Tooru,” your voice echoes in the chamber. “How about we talk this out?”

His voice dies in his throat once he notices you. Somehow surprised that you would chase them down here. “I know I blew up on you in the past but just give me another chance. We can stall all of this,” you wave your hands around at the control center and all the volunteers. “And maybe come to a compromise.”

Four minutes.

“Compromise? As if you even know the meaning of the word, princess,” there’s no endearment in his tone anymore. Just condescension and disgust. “I’ll start by killing your boyfriend and you can watch me. Then I’ll kill all your pathetic friends. Saving my sweet, sweet love for last,” his voice is eerily flat, similar to when he was speaking from the balcony earlier.

Three minutes, twenty-three seconds.

“You son of a bitch, I’d like to see you try,” Tanaka growls, the sword that was pointed at the volunteers now positioned over Oikawa’s chest. “I’ll tear your heart out before you can lay a finger on her.”

“I sense a challenge,” Oikawa chuckles and steps so the tip of the sword is touching his chest. “Let’s test that. You heard him, right guys? Why don’t we see if this knight in shining armor can save his damsel in distress,” he knows he’s going to die here, he’s smiling from ear to ear at Tanaka and he reaches to wrap his hand around the sharp edge of the sword, blood spilling from his palm down his wrist. “Kill them.”

The volunteers bumble forward, their numbers overwhelming the three of you. Tanaka pulls his sword from Oikawa’s hand to go after them. Yachi is almost to the control panel, but a volunteer suddenly blocks her path, lunging to crush her beneath their fists. You sprint for her, she has a knife on her leg but it’s clear she forgot to reach for it. She ducks beneath their arm, she’s surprisingly agile despite her frequent clumsiness. There’s an opening between the monstrosity’s legs as they stupidly move to follow her. You slide on your knees straight between their legs to slice through their achille’s heel, cutting off the function of their lower body. They faceplant by Yachi’s feet as she shrieks from nearly being crushed as you climb the limp body, your fingers locating the implant and stabbing into the tough skin, the implant wiggling in your hands as you tear it out. The device latches on to your pointer finger to dig into your skin. You scream and shake it off immediately and it lands at Yachi’s feet before she stomps on it like a bug, the crunching resembling the sound of a cockroach beneath her boot.

There’s a grunt from Tanaka’s direction and you see he’s pinned Oikawa to the floor between his knees. The tussle looks like it’s in his favor when Oikawa rips the implant from the wound above his knee and attempts to insert it into the smooth skin of Tanaka’s neck. You stare as he screams in pain, the pincers scratching and cutting into him. You’re too far to use your dagger, you won’t make it before the implant is successfully transferred to him, so you reach for the pistol on your hip. You hold it out in front of you preparing your shot but it’s too risky. Tanaka’s back is to you and only with perfect aim will you be able to land a shot on Oikawa from over his shoulder, the trembling of your hands only worsening the situation.

Two minutes, twenty-five seconds.

The time will be out before you shoot your gun, before Yachi will make it to the control center. Despair ruining your disposition and any confidence you would have had taking this shot is snatched from you as Tanaka screams in pain. You position the gun as best you can, praying to any divine being who happens to hear you to bless you with perfect aim. You begin to squeeze the trigger, forcing your eyes to stay open, when an arrow comes whizzing past your cheek, the speed of it burning the soft skin. You stare in astonishment as it lodges itself in Oikawa’s eye, blood spraying everywhere from the impact and his body slumps to the ground, hand still clasping the implant as it fidgets in his fingertips. Tanaka cringes when he gets off of him and turns to Nishinoya, whose crossbow is still aimed at them and the tension in your shoulders ease slightly.

Your relief is short lived as you survey the situation. Nearly all of the rebels are here, but there are simply too many enemies and they don’t have enough energy to continue to fight. You jump from your spot to look for Yachi and she’s still running to the panel, the disaster gathered in the room preventing her from reaching it. You know it’s too late. Your naive dream beginning to wither away before your eyes so you rush to go get her.

“Yachi, stop! It’s over,” You scream over the noise of the chaos around you, bodies strewn across the floor while blood begins to pool and smear everywhere. You are holding her arm, pulling her away from the control center in the middle of the room.

“It’s not over, how could you give up so easily?! I can do this, you have to trust me! I am the only one who can decode the software. It’s my fault any of this is happening anyway. I did this!” Tears are flowing down her face in a violent stream. Her cheeks red with frustration and stress, eyes pleading with you to let her go. “I put all of you in danger! I’m an idiot and I should’ve been able to figure out their plan, but I had to go and try to prove myself to my mom! I-I had to ruin everything because I was so stupidly naive,” her voice was breaking around every syllable, guilt ripping through her.

“But I can’t lose you!” The lump in your throat was making it difficult to speak as the only option dawned on you. The only option she is pleading for you trust her with. Tears are stinging at your eyes, threatening to spill over while you try desperately to hold them back. “Y-you’re my best friend,” you’re exhausted, the words sincere as they slide through the space between you. Yachi steps towards you, hand coming up to rest on your cheek to catch the stray tear slipping down.

“I know and that’s why I need to do this. I need to save you. I need to save Yams. And the others. We can’t lose anymore lives because of something I created,” you let your eyes shut, all the fight you had leaving your body as your grip loosens on her arm. She wraps her arms around you for a final embrace, her body still for once, the trembling gone from her nerves as your arms hold her. “I know I can fix this, but I need for you to get as many people as you can out of here first,” she untangles herself from you.

“There’s a large safe at the end of this hallway. The code is my birthday. Grab anyone left, anyone still alive and shut yourselves in there. I won’t be able to disconnect the devices in this building because I won’t have enough time so there will still be a loud explosion. When you hear that it’s safe to come out,” she takes a step away from you, expression fixed leaving you no room to argue.

“O-okay,” you force the word from your lips because this was far from okay, “j-just know that, um, that I love you. So fucking much,” her figure begins to blur as the tears gather in your eyes.

“I love you too, y/n. Promise me that you will make it out of here. Promise me that you will get to watch the sunset. A real one. For me,” she pleads and you blink to clear your vision, hot tears burning the raw skin of your under eyes. “Yes, I p-promise,” you choke on these last words.

“Thank you. Now go, please” this is the calmest you have ever seen her as she steps away from you, body turning to clumsily run to the control panel. Time is moving in slow motion. The bodies around you moving in vivid detail. Every swing, punch, and kick are stuttering like a stop motion film. You don’t know if you’re breathing anymore, all of your functions glitching in a solitary moment of grief.

“Hey, look at me!” You can hear Tanaka’s voice, see his figure pummeling towards you, but he’s fuzzy, out of focus. You think his hands are on your arms, but it feels distant and cold, a ghost of everything he is. “Hey!” He shakes you aggressively, your brain fighting against the current of sorrow dragging you below the murky surface. “Don’t let the last words you said to her be a lie! Don’t break this promise!”

You cut through the surface and see Tanaka clearly. He’s covered in blood, his neck bleeding from where Oikawa punctured his skin with the implant. “We have to go. You have to go,” he shoves you to the exit, your motor functions working on autopilot. You grab who you can as you run for the safe. Yelling orders and instructions to anyone who can hear you.

One minute, seventeen seconds.

Suga’s at your side holding up Ennoshita while Daichi is calling for people to rush to the safe. You make it there first, and incorrectly punch in the code at first, the small numbers duplicating, but you get it right the second try. The heavy door swinging open with surprising ease as you move out the way to let Suga and Ennoshita in before you. A few of the other guys bolt in soon after and you just stand there waiting for Tanaka, waiting for Yamaguchi, and Kenma, and Yachi.

Yamaguchi cuts the corner first, Terushima on his tail. You feel a flash of relief when you see them, the distance between you closing rapidly. Yamaguchi trips over the step into the safe, but Terushima catches him before he makes contact with the ground, mumbling something to him that you can’t quite make out.

Tanaka’s next and he’s screaming at you but you hardly hear him over the commotion. You hardly register the distance until he’s right in front of you again. “What are you doing just standing here?!” He yells. “Let’s go,” he practically lifts you into the room and holds your back to his chest against one of the metal walls, preventing you from running out again.

You can’t tell who else enters the safe, your panic and grief merging in a merciless waltz. The door slams shut and Daichi is the last to come in, his strong hands holding firm on the handle. Your eyes now begin to scan the bodies in the room, some fine with just a few cuts and bruises, others worse, bleeding dangerously from various points in their body. You count like you did before any of this started.

Twenty-six. Minus one. Twenty-five.

You start from the corner opposite you, whispering number to face to name.

Twenty-one, orange hair, brown eyes: Hinata. Twenty-two, flash of blonde, fixed glare: Nishinoya. Twenty-three, disheveled black hair-

“Where’s Kenma?” Kuroo’s voice breaks your trance. There’s only twenty-four people in the safe.

“Where’s Kenma?” You repeat, fighting Tanaka’s grip to bolt to the door.

“Daichi!” Kuroo screams. “Answer me!”

“He stayed behind,” Daichi’s shoulders fall in defeat. “Said something about this being his final move. That this was game over for him and the prize for winning would be our lives. Then stuck something on the door and told me to tell you that he’s,” he pauses, his usually solid voice wavering. “He said he’s not a loser.”

“And you let him?!” Kuroo runs at him, intent on pulling him away from the door and ripping it open. “He’s an idiot! I have to go get him!” Daichi locks Kuroo’s arms behind his back. “Let me go!” He’s kicking and shoving, but Daichi refuses to stand down. “There’s still time! I HAVE TIME TO SAVE HIM!”

“There is no time, Tetsuro! We are out of time!” At this moment the floor rumbles, the walls vibrate as they shield you from the brunt of the blast. Kuroo’s reaction is visceral, a primal scream blowing out his vocal chords as dust starts to fall from the ceiling. You watch Hinata fall to his knees, the inhibited light dimming in his eyes as his head falls in his hands, body convulsing with sobs.

00:00

You’re drowning, your lungs are full of water, air sticking to the lining of your esophagus, the burning pain of no oxygen clouding your brain. Your head heavy on your neck, the effort of holding up your body wearing away as you let all of your weight fall back on Tanaka. His own body sliding down the wall until you’re both on the floor, you wailing pathetically between his legs and he just holds you to his chest, even when you resist and scream for him to leave you alone, he silently holds you.

No one makes a move to leave. The burden of losing people weighing heavy in the tight, crowded room.

You don’t remember too much after this. The solemn, dreadful walk back to the hideout is syrupy, your body hardly moving through the thickness of desolation. You stumble over bodies and slip on spilled blood, the aftermath of the explosion evident on every surface, making your ascent cumbersome as you climb out. The familiar fog an odd comfort concealing you from intrusive eyes.

The hideout is stale and uneasy. Your heartbeat pulsing irregularly in your chest, grief induced anesthetic numbing your bloodstream. Tanaka’s room is dark and his bed looks unusually comfortable. You lurch towards it, but Tanaka stops you. His arms pulling you into the bathroom, the shower already running with steam creeping over the top of the glass door. He helps you undress and step into the tub, tying your hair up in a messy bun before the water hits you. He steps in behind you and swipes a wet cloth over your body. Blood, dirt, and dust turning the water at your feet a translucent brown as it disappears down the drain.

Tanaka wraps new gauze around your waist, the sting of the alcohol barely noticeable anymore. You’re wearing one of his t-shirts as he tucks you into bed. His body settling in beside you, his strong arms cradling you in his embrace as he whispers gentle words of affirmation into your hair. His soothing voice eventually lulling you into a dreamless slumber.

You wake up unexpectedly, the sounds of your own whimpers breaking the awful silence. “I’m here,” Tanaka pets your hair. “I’m not going anywhere, I’m right here,” he reassures you as his arms press you deeper to his chest. Your fingers clinging to the sheet draped over his bare torso.

He leans down to pepper kisses across your tear stained cheeks. His lips connecting with every inch of skin. You tilt your face to catch his lips in a slow kiss, his movements initially hesitant. You drift your fingers to outline his collarbone, tracing along each line of muscle and ridge of scar tissue, determined to memorize all his imperfections. Determined to cement the entirety of his physique into your memory so he will never fade if he ever leaves you too.

Your fingers stop at the waistband of his underwear, toying with the elastic before you venture further down as you sketch the dip of his hip bone, the sharpness of his pelvis, and the strength of his relaxed thigh behind your closed eyelids. He stops you before you can delve deeper. “We shouldn’t,” is all he says, lips still slotted perfectly between yours.

“I want you, Ryu,” you’re aware of the desperation in your tone, aware of your need for physical touch emitting off of you in heady rays. “Please.”

He screws his eyes shut, his internal dialogue written all over his handsome features. It’s not because he doesn’t want to, the evidence of his quiet arousal mere inches from your fingertips. He’s afraid of hurting you, afraid of pushing you too far even though you’re asking for this, but you want to show him how much you want him. How much you need him.

How much you love him.

You gently pry your wrist from his loose grasp to massage the soft skin of his erection, slowing your motions when he stiffens. “Let me,” you plead beneath your breath.

“Let me feel you, let me know you’re here.”

You feel him nod above you, his body relaxing into your touch, his hips rutting gently into your palm until he’s painfully hard. He shifts to caress the back of your neck, tilting your head to look at him as he places a lingering kiss to your forehead. His lips smoothing over your features before he melts into you again. His kisses are slow and passionate, a welcome distraction to the flurry of disheartening emotions plaguing you.

He rolls the both of you over so he’s resting on his elbows above you and removes your hand from his cock to place it over his heart. The action is cheesy but you can feel the heartbeat beneath his muscle. The steady, rhythmic pulse pumping blood through his veins, a sign that he is alive, that he’s breathing and he’s with you.

You fight the tears begging to spill over, fearing that you might ruin the moment. He strokes your cheek, thumb rubbing soothing circles beneath the skin of your eyes.

“I’m gonna touch you, okay?” His voice is broken from exhaustion and vulnerability, but his hand moves to shift your panties to the side when you nod for him to continue. His fingers slipping between your folds to gather the slick at your entrance, circling your clit lightly. You lift your hips to roll into his fingers, silently asking for more as your pleasure begins to prickle at your nerves.

He begins to move away from you and for a moment you think he’s going to stop, instead he pulls himself from his boxers and strokes whatever slick he gathered over his erection. The tip of his cock a blossoming red as he continues to touch himself. “Ryu, hurry,” you whine, impatience beginning to nag at you, body seeking the delirious sensation of pleasure.

“I’ll take care of you, don’t worry,” his voice is soft, the meaning of his words holding avenues of interpretations as he positions himself at your entrance. His arm shakes with strain beside your face as he pushes his head past your initial ring of muscle, stopping midway to thrust shallowly. Despite your begging for him to hurry up, you’re still tense, your walls clenching tight around him.

“Baby, I need you to relax,” he says through gritted teeth, the efforts of restraining himself lock his muscles into place, but you take a deep breath at his words, allowing your legs to fall open around his hips, crossing your ankles behind the small of his back.

“Move,” your breath catches in your throat as he thrusts a little deeper that time. “I’ll be fine, just move.”

He looks at you for a long moment, eyes searching yours for even a semblance of doubt. When he doesn’t find it, he rests his forehead on yours, eyes closed as he sheathes himself inside you entirely. You feel too full when he doesn’t follow through so you wiggle your hips to press firmly into his, a low groan reverberating through his chest as you grind against him, your arms stationed securely around his neck.

Not too long after he begins to meet the rocking of your hips, his movements deliberate and measured. You keen into his touch as his head falls to rest beside your neck, mouthing the skin to muffle his moans as his pace quickens.

He slips his arms beneath your back, hugging you tightly to his chest. The new angle sends a jolt of electric pleasure through your veins, his thrusts are determined as he searches for your release.

“Not gonna last long,” he groans into your neck, fingers digging into your sides as he tries to stall his own release. You’re closer than he thinks though, your head is swimming with euphoria, brain clouded with the tastes of ecstasy.

“Don’t stop, Ryu. I’m so close,” you beg, your voice dripping with desire. You feel one of his hands move to fist the sheet below you as he breaks his steady pace, the force of his hips jostling you passionately. The pressure building in your abdomen is unbearable, his cock slamming into your sensitive walls fervently.

“Fuck,” you moan into his ear as your senses crash, your body singing with unexpected bliss. His thrusts begin to falter, his own release on the horizon as his grip on you hardens.

“M’gonna come,” he stutters out, voice gravelly with need. “Need you to move, so I, shit,” he’s struggling to get his words out as the hand fisting the sheet moves to wrap around your calf. “So I can pull out,” he groans and pushes on your leg to unlock your ankles.

“No,” you refuse. “Inside, just come inside, please Ryu” he never has, the implications too dangerous for him to ever consider, but right now you need to feel every part of him.

“Baby,” he whines, his voice an octave higher. The desperation in your tone crumbling his resolve and before he can say no he’s spilling inside you. The sporadic contractions of your walls around his cock coupled with the way you whimper his name against the shell of his ear is what ruins him.

He collapses on top of you, his dense weight flattening you into the mattress as he twitches inside you. You don’t mind the heaviness, content with falling asleep just like this but he rolls the both of you on your sides, probably realizing he was crushing you.

His face is still nestled in the groove of your neck when you feel him chuckle against your skin. “Can’t believe you tricked me into doing that?” A small smile stretching his lips on your shoulder.

“Trick? I wouldn’t it call it that,” a matching smile plays on your features.

“It was sneaky and you know it.” You laugh despite everything that happened today.

“I love you,” you never said it back, but you’re certain now as your body flows with appreciation.

“I love you too.”

June 18, 2065

6:38am

It’s too early to wake up, but your mind disregards your obvious fatigue when you find yourself on Tanaka’s balcony. The events of last night looping perpetually in your head as you stare at the city that was supposed to be demolished. There’s no movement, hardly any noise beside the buzzing neon sign flickering four floors down. It’s as if everyone is in mourning. A victory cause for celebration, but the density of grief burdens the atmosphere.

“What’re doing up?” Tanaka appears behind you, arms enclosing around your waist.

“Couldn’t sleep anymore,” you reply dryly. He hums behind you and rests his chin on your head as you two watch the sky change from a deep purple to the dull pink that never cuts through the fog.

“What now?” You ask, not really expecting an answer.

“I’m not sure,” he shrugs, this transition stretching into miles of uncharted area.

“We leave,” he says, finally.

“Where would we even go?” Confusion laces your tone. The two of you have never left Tokyo, partially because it was impossible with the barrier surrounding the city.

“Miyagi,” he says as if he’s familiar with the prefecture.

“I don’t know,” you hesitate. “There was a project I wanted to complete for,” your voice fades into the early morning. The image of the simulation machine popping into your mind as you remember the pixelated beach glitching in the large room. The last moment you had with him.

“Bring it with you,” Tanaka suggests as he turns you in his embrace to look at him.

“What’s in Miyagi?” His adamant stare confusing you further.

“My sister,” he’s never mentioned her before, and you raise your eyebrows in question. “A few of the rebels left here right before you showed up to search for others. She led them,” he explains.

“I hadn’t heard from her until she called me two days ago. I was worried something happened, but she’s fine,” he shakes his head.

“I obviously didn’t get the chance to tell you, but she’s there and they found more than they were expecting.”

“How did they even get past the barrier?”

“Kenma.” His tone softens around his name, but you're not the least bit surprised that he managed to break down the barrier.

“Of course.” You rest your head against his chest.

“The rebellion is stronger there. We may have a chance to save all of Japan. Not just Tokyo,” you process his words, unsure of how to respond.

“And,” he cups your neck so you’re staring into his eyes. “The sun sets in Miyagi.”

#tanaka ryunosuke #Tanaka x reader #tanaka smut #tanaka fanfic #apocalypse #the smut pile collab #hq #cyberpunk

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mysticalmusicwhispers · 3 years ago

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#i wonder what your thoughts on diaspora in hetalia are#cause its a pretty interesting topic (the post in question)

@urmomsstuntdouble a collection of things that I think about on a semi-regular basis below the cut (also thank you for the tags!)

Disclaimer: I think this turned into more of a discussion of immigration and immigrants, but I hope this strikes your fancy anyways 😅. Also this got SO LONG and I explained quite a bit of history (because idk whether anyone knows much about this), so the key thoughts will be bolded!

My thoughts are kinda complicated about this tbh; it’s weird, because if China really did exist as a personification in real life, we’d probably both be judging each other, just for different reasons 😅.

General Hetalia Cases

I think when discussing immigrants/diaspora, you have to think about why different immigrants left. @cupofkey kinda discussed that a while ago (if anyone hasn’t seen this superb post, GO READ IT NOW) about the Vietnamese diaspora, and I think there’s some of that in every country. How do the immigrants feel about the home country? Why did they leave: because of hard times, poverty? Political instability/revolution/war? Opportunities overseas? Are they doing well in their new home, or still struggling? Does their new country treat them like foreigners or outcasts, unworthy of even arriving, or doing anything besides menial labor, or have they been welcomed (rather unlikely)? Do they hate their home country (politically), or miss them? Would they ever go back, not just to visit family or the place of their birth, but to return permanently?

I think on the whole, hetalia nations would still maintain a connection to their immigrants, especially since most are still in touch with their culture, although they’ve crossed borders or changed nationalities. (However, the angst of not being as in touch with your culture as you think you should is so real; would our home countries be disappointed? Or do they sympathize, somehow?) In the end, we’re all the same that way. Plus, the alternative thought of them just disowning immigrants feels weird; I don’t even know how that would be possible. But I think that connection gets complicated by the reason people left, and their feelings for their place of origin; I’ll be using APH China and Chinese Americans as an example to discuss this hksdgsdf (sorry I don’t want to do more research than necessary and I have Thoughts about this)

**OBLIGATORY DISCLAIMER that immigration/diaspora discussions are almost always case by case and will vary greatly based on things like country of origin/race/ethnicity, country immigrated to, initial socioeconomic status, time period, etc. And even among diaspora, people can and will have vastly different experiences, and it’s not good to generalize. These are just some thoughts with one example.**

1. Waves of Immigration

Depending on when people arrive, they’ve got different push/pull factors drawing them to a country and it also factors into how the nation feels about them and vice versa... Chinese immigration to the US has mostly two major waves (you could also say there were 3, counting the post-WWII/Communist China wave, but I won’t talk about that): one in the mid 1800s and the other after the 1970s/1980s into modern day; the gap is because the Chinese Exclusion Act (1882) that banned most immigration from China wasn’t repealed until 1943 (because of Japan’s attack on the US in WWII, the US needed China as an ally).

IMMIGRATION WAVE 1: MID 1800s

These immigrants were mostly from southern China (Canton area), and they came to the US because of hard times (Opium Wars + political instability because of things like the Taiping Rebellion) and economic opportunity in the West (eg. Gold Rush (San Francisco is literally “Old Gold Mountain” in Chinese today) + industrialization, railroads, expansion etc.). There was Much Discrimination against those immigrants, and many worked as hard laborers in a variety of occupations (on railroads, gold mine, farms (in the South esp), laundry businesses; there were merchants as well, but they were the minority); many were looking to get some money that they could send back to their families in China and planned to return, but over time, they settled down and stayed. I think for those immigrants, Yao would definitely be understanding, even if he might not be empathetic. After all, he’s not thriving at that time either, and although he thinks Alfred is inferior to him (in many ways), he understands why people would be drawn by economic promise and quick wealth, even if it might not be the best strategy for getting rich. It’s not like staying in China would be better lmao. However, I don’t think he would approve (?) how many of his immigrants stayed in the US when most viewed it as a temporary move; I think Yao is very surprised by how so many of them persisted to carve out a home there, despite the discrimination and limited opportunities. Perhaps he admires their resilience, the creation of Chinatowns and community and how they still come to a country that doesn’t even let them in (see the San Francisco Fire of 1906 and the boon for paper sons), but still wishes they would come back, however unlikely that hope is. Personally, Yao would never be able to stay in Alfred’s country, the beautiful country, if Alfred’s hypocrisy prevented his experience, his immigrant’s experience, from being anything close to beautiful. (You were founded by immigrants and foreigners, but now you spurn them: the poor sojourners who continue to flee to your shores, and refuse them respite from the disasters at home.) And anyways, Alfred is just the next scrappy young upstart, barely 70 years old but with a swagger like he rules the world; how could he have something over himself, the Middle Kingdom, who has stood the test of time? (Admittedly, he’s doing nowhere as well as Alfred—even he can see that, despite his pride, and despite the haze of opium in his brain. Leaving is the logical, objectively sound choice. Still, his pride hurts vaguely when he thinks how his immigrants keep choosing a country that keeps rejecting them, over and over again, instead of himself. But it is no matter. The injury to his ego is inconsequential and easily brushed aside; for they are still his people, and they deserve a good life, wherever they are. His distaste for Alfred flares up again: Arthur’s bastard child, who takes advantage of his trade (see the Open Door Notes, 1899-1900), but refuses his people.)

if anyone wants more context or is interested in the history I mentioned, I highly recommend this pdf (from the book A Different Mirror: A History of Multicultural America by Ronald Takaki)

IMMIGRATION FROM 1949 TO 1980: according to Wikipedia, there was very little immigration from mainland China during this period due to the Cold War and China becoming Communist; most of the immigration was from Taiwan/ROC but counted in the quota for China. Since there’s a separate Hetalia personification for TWN, I’m not going to go over that. However, there were also many people from Mainland China who escaped to Hong Kong, still a British colony, during that period (I hope it’s clear why, but if anyone asks I’ll put it in a separate post); some stayed there, while others emigrated to the US; both trips were for more freedoms and a better life etc because China was really really messed up for a bit (also keep in mind the people emigrating all had the means to and were at least middle class, usually somewhat educated, etc.). I will not be talking about that group either because I don’t think it’s my place to, but please know they exist as well.

IMMIGRANT WAVE 2: 1980s ONWARD

A lot of people came from mainland China for education; there was also an. exodus of intellectuals following 1989 (which I Will Not get into). Many of these people sought job opportunities, like those that rapidly opened up in the computer industry, there are many students who come here to study abroad, who take SATs and TOEFLs to get into good US colleges or to conduct graduate research and get PhDs; some stay, others have gone back to like, advance China’s development (this sentiment of getting good students to go abroad and then go back to China to use their talents for Patriotic Purposes isn’t a new thing, stretches back to like the late 1800s). I don’t really have much to say about this group besides what’s below ↓.

2. Immigrant Thoughts On Their Home Country

more complicated, because it varies by generation and time period and probably 203943 other things. Mainlanders that came over starting in the 1990s till now have relatively positive feelings towards China (imo, extrapolating from my life experiences); I think part of that is also because most* of these immigrants aren’t really escaping from something? They’re coming for an education/job opportunities (students studying abroad in the US (留学生 or liuxuesheng) for graduate school or university come to mind as one example), and they’re still very much connected to China politically and culturally, sometimes* more so than to the US. For these immigrants, I think Yao doesn’t worry too much about them? They’re pretty successful* overall*, and discrimination, although still A Large Problem™, isn’t the same from stuff that Yao (or his immigrants) remember from, say the mid 1800s (see above), or even during the paranoia about Communists after WWII and the subsequent Chinese Confession Program that made many people really scared of being deported. (Red China made Chinese Americans a target of the Communist panic, and the confession program was instated in order to make sure Communist spies couldn’t infiltrate the US. Those who immigrated illegally could confess that and gain citizenship; however you also had to weed out everyone you knew who also immigrated illegally.) I think Yao would see them as an extension of himself in a different land; they’re very much still part of him, and he gives them his well wishes.

However, I think that immigrants born in the US in modern day at least (1990s onwards) are definitely more ambivalent about China’s legacy + modern day Issues™, as much as we are connected via culture and heritage. Not quite sure how Yao would feel about that, because I’m not quite sure how much Yao is the state and how much he represents the people. However, I think there would be some mutual unease; does he see this as betrayal of some kind? Perhaps he doesn’t blame us for feeling as we do? Maybe he wonders what we feel about him; maybe he doesn’t want to know. Maybe he chooses the easier route: to focus on the bonds between him and his huayi instead of the grievances, and leave the rest unsaid.

Additionally with first gen immigrants, there’s the conflicting feeling of being stuck between two worlds and value systems that oppose each other in many respects. Also there’s sometimes a feeling of not-quite-being-in-touch-with-your-culture (in other diaspora as well, ofc. here it’s often exemplified by forgetting or not knowing how to read and write Chinese proficiently, among other things 🙃); idk. does Yao see that as a bit of a disappointment? Would he wish us to try harder? Does he view it as inevitable, for those raised in the US; the environment is too different, and perhaps he won’t blame us for those differences, or shortcomings. Does Yao know, or care, about the racism? What about his immigrants who try to assimilate completely into American culture, who try to erase the Chinese part of their identity? Those that have tried it, but regretted it? Are they still his, when they have tried rejecting their connection to him, choosing to drop the “Chinese” from Chinese American? Does he consider racism when thinking about them? What about international adoptees? Does he claim them, when some have not been raised in a culturally Chinese environment, and when it’s still a sensitive subject on both sides of the ocean? I don’t have answers to many of these questions.

There are also immigrants who fled China because of war or persecution or upheaval, (one example is with regards to the Cultural Revolution), but I don’t feel qualified to discuss it here, and I don’t want to take it lightly.

But, despite everything I’ve discussed above, I’d like to think that however an immigrant feels about their home country or however long they’ve been there, all nation personifications would still wish them a better life (even Yao). I mean, it’s not always easy being an immigrant/part of a diaspora (especially when race becomes a factor). I really don’t think any of the hetalia characters would say “look at your struggles. What a mistake it was to immigrate somewhere where you still face so many challenges, although they might be different from the ones back home”. that’s just No. Also, I think that when you disregard sentimentality and their inherent connection to the people, countries would still be able to sympathize with people trying to strive for better, you know? People immigrate for a better life, whether it’s because it was getting rough when they left or because other places had more potential, and like. although nation-people can’t leave their own country, I think they understand the people who do, because it’s a chance to make a new life, and it would be unkind, counterproductive, limiting, to prevent someone from taking that opportunity if it came. And their children, and grandchildren; they are still connected to their origins even in a new country, by blood if nothing else, and nations are people too; they must have some sentimentality for their people born in a different land. I’d like to think that if Yao met a Chinese American kid running around San Francisco’s Chinatown, or bumped into an ABC high schooler in a well to do Massachusetts suburb, he’d stop and nod and maybe say hello, and wish them luck, wherever they go in the future. After all, they are the products of his immigrant’s hopes and dreams, and they are his too, as much as they live in Alfred’s land.

* (asterisks): this is a) from my experience and research; not everyone will have the same experiences! please keep this in mind and don’t generalize a very vast group of people. :)

Idk if that was too sentimental or rambly or something, but yeah, those are some of the things I consider when I think about nations and their diasporas. If you made it down here, thanks for reading! I greatly appreciate it. Also I hope I got all my facts correct, but if anyone spots anything incorrect, especially regarding the post 1980s immigration wave, please tell me! Tried doing my research but there are still a few things I’m unsure about rip.

This might be deleted tomorrow because I’m feeling weird about it, but feel free to reblog! I’d also very much love some feedback too if any of y’all are feeling up to it

#i was thinking about a lot of this when writing the zine fic so this post is partially an extension of that #hws china #aph china #musings #hetalia #nation lore #hws #aph #aph china headcanons #hetalia worldbuilding #headcanon musings #hetalia headcanons #I GUESS??

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votederpycausemufins · 4 years ago

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-Smiles widely at the camera that exists somewhere- Ah Grumbot, I’m so glad I remembered to add you in here.

@petrichormeraki

With the arrival of Mumbo and the bots, Grian and Tommy tried to introduce everyone to each other, but another message came in from Scar about doing paperwork with a mention that Iskall was there for the paperwork with Fundy. Immediately Mumbo flew off back towards the shopping district, Tommy barely getting the chance to cover Tubbo’s ears. Tubbee, who had also been brought down from the apiary floor, used Jrumbot as something to hide behind.

“Sorry about that. Iskall is just not the best at reading contracts and Scar likes to hide things in there for fun. If Mumbo hadn’t beat me to it, I would have gone instead since it’s quieter.”

“He forgot Tubbee doesn’t like fireworks.” Jrumbot spoke, petting the mob.

“Exactly. Your dad can be very forgetful in the moment.”

Grumbot looked towards Tubbo and then took a few steps towards him. “You act like Tubbee. You must be President Tubbo. It is nice to meet the whole of you.”

Tubbo, who was trembling a little bit even though the sound had been muffled, looked down at Grumbot. “Wh-what do you mean?”

“I didn’t tell him that part yet.” Tommy quickly explained to his nephew.

“I see. It is something from what your admin did. In creating your ‘canon lives’ he made it so when you lost one, a part of your being would be broken off and cast somewhere else. I am not sure what happened to your other part as I do not have that information, but one did end up within this bee as it first spawned.”

Tubbo looked at the bee in Jrumbots arms and then smiled. “Perfect. Always wanted to be a bee.”

Jrumbot looked between Tubbo, Tommy, Tubbee and Grumbot. “Is Tubbee my uncle then?”

Grian picked Jrumbot up. Grumbot had gotten more of the smarts since he was built to be a computer to answer their questions. Took a little more after Mumbo that way. Jrumbot on the other hand had originally just been made to help sell stuff and was created on the younger side, so he wasn’t as smart. In fact, he was more like Grian if his affinity for shears, especially near his one dad’s mustache was anything to go by.

“Well, Tubbo is your uncle’s friend, maybe even an honorary uncle at that. And Tubbee isn’t quite the same. Besides, I don’t think Tubbee will mind if you don’t call him your uncle.”

Grumbot walked over to Philza. “You are Philza Minecraft. Former king of the Antarctic Empire and my dad’s father, making you my grandfather.” He then looked at Techno. “You are Technoblade, former prince of the Antarctic Empire and also seem to loathe all forms of government. We will not get along.”

Techno looked down at Grumbot with a neutral expression. “Smart kid.”

“Grumbot, how did you know that about your uncle?”

“The mayoral reservoirs of course. He would have been a danger to the mayoral campaign if he appeared.”

Grian stared his son down. “Are you telling me the entire time you knew about Techno.”

“Not his location, but I was aware of his character and other general knowledge.” Grian looked like he was about to blow a gasket. “Of course, you never asked, so I didn’t assume you wanted to know.”

“Grumbot, when we get home, only your brother is getting a diamond.”

Grumbot stared at his dad before saying a single word. “Fuck.”

Tommy smiled. He had taught his nephew well.

With a break in the conversation, Tubbo spoke up. “Well, I mean Philza has sort of been acting as my dad.”

That immediately grabbed Grian’s attention. “Why?”

“Well, I’m not sure exactly what happened. One moment I was in the car with my dad, next thing I know, I’m in a box on the side of the road.”

“Your dad abandoned you?”

“What? No! He would never!”

“Hey G, might be like what happened to you?” Tommy suggested. There was a pause where everything was quiet before suddenly Grian changed to have six purple eyes. “Grian! No!”

Grian closed them and crossed his arms as best as he could while still holding Jrumbot. “What’s the point of being a Watcher if I can’t actually be one.”

“You almost killed everyone a few hours ago.”

“Dad almost killed someone?” Jrumbot asked, looking worried. Grian shifted him to one arm so he could pat his son and comfort him.

“Yeah, things got crazy for a bit. That’s why we wanted you staying in the hobbit tunnels. Did you at least have fun there?”

The question cheered Jrumbot up. “Yeah! We made more tracks for jousting!” Jrumbot continued to talk about what he and Grumbot had been doing when a message came in on the comms “Dad, Daddy wants your help with Scar.”

Grian sighed. “Well, I guess now is as good a time as any to get that paperwork done. Hey Tommy, where’s your nether portal?”

Tommy led everyone down to the second floor and through a nether portal. Though Tubbo had already been there with Fundy, the rest hadn’t and were surprised by the builds that were in the nether.

“How did you do all of this?!” Wilbur asked, surprised. “We barely had stuff like this in the overworld!”

“It’s actually not that big compared to last season. We use the roof more and everyone has their own separate builds.” Grian’s family tried to resist the urge to shake him and or kill him at how normal he was making it sound. “I’ll have to show you the upside down later.”

Though it took a few small bridges here and there, it was rather quick getting them all back to the shopping district. As the portal was right under the town hall, the group was greeted by music as they came through back into the overworld.

“Is he wasting it on paperwork again?!” Grian asked incredulously to no one in particular. “This isn’t going to help us at all!”

“It actually makes sense this time as there is the potential consideration of people from here and the smp moving between each other.” Grumbot explained, making sure to glare down his anarchist uncle the entire time. “All the proper forms would need to be done to keep Hermitcraft safe from people willing to destroy it.”

“I’m going in there.” Tommy spoke up, quickly leaving the others behind. Just a moment later, he walked back out with papers in his hand. “I think these mean he doesn’t want to see us right now.”

“What exactly is going on?” Philza asked.

At the same time, Grian and Tommy gave an answer. “Superfast build mode.”

“What?”

“Scar uses vex magic to help speed himself up to do lots of work in a small amount of time. Usually he uses it for building, but recently he’s also been using it for all his mayor work.”

“I… see.”

“Anyway, Grumbot, can you look at the paperwork?” Grian took the papers from Tommy’s hands and gave them to his son. The robot rapidly read through all the papers at a speed that could potentially rival Scar’s own current speed.

“It’s really bad this time. Paying him diamonds, work clauses, extreme zoning laws for temporary housing. You can only grow wheat and chorus fruit, I’m assuming that’s actually a mistake.”

Tommy smiled. “You wanna go in there and fix it.”

Even if they wouldn’t all admit it, the smp members all had a shiver go down their spines as Grumbot spoke coldly and his screen face turned red. “Very much so.” And then he walked up the stairs to the town hall.

“Is he going to kill your mayor?” Wilbur asked, but Grian shook his head.

“No, he only was that serious the first time they met after we finally built his body. It’s only ever near deaths at most. I’m actually wondering if we have more elections if everyone will let Grumbot run.”

“I certainly won’t be giving him permission.” Came Mumbo’s voice as he exited town hall with Iskall and Fundy behind him. “Artificial life or not, he is still considered a child. And Tommy has given him too many ideas. Scar might be exiled for a few days.”

Techno looked like he was about to speak, but was shushed by Philza.

“Techno, I know you don’t seem to like the government and all, but it works here. I’ve seen hundreds of worlds, so I know how it can all fall apart, but we have literally been doing this for years with not a single problem.”

“Grian.”

“With only one single problem.”

“Grian!”

“Okay, I cause the problems. Mostly. But Tommy helps me with that! But we only very minorly grief and even then it’s extremely rare. And we definitely don’t steal. It’s mainly harmless pranks like chickens everywhere or hiding something in your base that makes noises and you can’t find it.”

“Or secret base bros.” Tommy added in, making Grian look a little confused.

“Yeah, though we stopped doing that ages ago.”

“Or did we?” Tommy asked, somehow looking very racoonish.

Grian looked at his brother. “Okay, concerning, but we can talk about that later.” He turned back to the rest of his family. “In the meantime, I think we should have the discussion I think we’ve all been avoiding a little. Is it just going to be visits, or are you guys actually deciding to move here?”

“What do you mean? You’re not coming with us?” Philza asked, making Grian frown.

“No, of course not. No offense to your home, but it’s a bit of a mess and I’m not sure I could live there without losing my mind. I’m sure that eventually things will calm down, but I’m sure I couldn’t even make half a hobbit hole before it got messed with in some way. Visits are of course on the table, but I’m not going to be staying.”

“But you’ll just be by yourself again.”

“Um…” Tommy started to say, drawing attention over to him. “I’m actually going to mostly stay here. I know Dream is gone and Tubbo’s in charge now, but I just don’t think I can go back there just like that.”

Tubbo hugged Tommy and then Grian pulled the two of them into a hug with his wings. When Philza tried to take a step forward, Grian glared at him. “No. You were part of the problem. You don’t really deserve this right now.”

Mumbo went over to try and comfort Grian, but just ended up making him more agitated. Iskall pulled his fellow redstoner back then tried to change the topic. “So, Fundy, you said you’re Wilbur’s kid. That makes you Grian’s nephew, doesn’t it? That means you have cousins.”

“I do?” The fox hybrid asked before he was tackled by Jrumbot.

“Hi! I’m Jrumbot! Grian and Mumbo are my dads! My brother went in there to talk to Scar, so you may have seen him.”

“Yeah! I did! Wow! This is the best day of my life! I mean, other than the whole going to war part, but everything else was great! New family, hopefully a better server, and I got to hang out with Iskall!”

“That sounds amazing! I got to meet Tubbo! He’s just as fun as Tubbee!” Jurmbot said, happy to share about his day to a new face.

“They seem to get along just fine.” Iskall chuckled. The comment seemed to help Grian relax a bit and he reluctantly released Tommy and Tubbo from his wings.

“Look dad, I’m happy I found you after all these years. But you being my dad doesn’t change the things I saw you do. You sided with people, not ideas, and because of that you would change what you stood for on a moment's notice just to side with someone you cared about. But that hurt others you cared about at the same time. I’ve been hurt enough in my life. Tommy has too. Things here are safe and stable and even then we don’t always have the best days. I don’t normally curse, but it should get the point across. I am terrified of getting close to you right now and you finding a way to fuck up out lives.”

Mumbo and Iskall shared a look. While it might not get through to the newcomers, they had known Grian long enough to know just how serious he was being. They had both seen just how bad it could get for Grian and Tommy and how helpless they felt sometimes when trying to help the brothers.

Philza was quiet for a while before giving a simple understanding nod. “Thanks dad.”

“Well Grian, I’m sure that it’s been a long day for everyone. I’m sure people are tired and hungry and there’s plenty of paperwork to do. How about once Grumbot is finished, we head over to my Hobbit hole for some food.”

Grian smiled at Mumbo. “That sounds nice. Dinner with the whole family!”

Everyone was pleasantly surprised when they saw Mumbo’s hobbit hole. It was a much more reasonable size. They hadn’t seen Mumbo’s real base quite yet though, so they assumed this was it. It was still quite large from the bumbo baggins society expansion, but that meant plenty of room for everyone to sit at for a meal.

While there was plenty of variety, golden carrots were the most plentiful and they were gladly eaten for their high saturation. The visitors from the SMP tried not to stare as the bot children were given bowls of nether quartz and red stone to eat. It was hard to even comprehend how they were eating at all as their heads were just computer monitors yet somehow it just worked.

A cake was placed on the table as a joke for all the birthdays everyone had missed but they ended up actually singing. Following that, the dreaded paperwork began, though it was easier to handle now that everyone had a slice of the delicious treat.

While Philza, Wilbur, Techno and Fundy signed paperwork for simply visiting Hermitcraft, Tubbo signed one for visits and for residency. “Tubbo, are you planning to stay?” Tommy asked when he noticed the papers in front of his friend.

“Well… I would like to. This place seems so nice… but with me being admin now, I need to help the smp. But maybe I can have extended stays in the future.”

Grian looked at Tubbo sympathetically. “Tubbo, you don’t have to be the admin. I’m sure you can find someone you trust enough to move the powers to if you want to stay here.”

“But you made me admin.”

“You were nearby and I knew you probably wouldn’t do anything horrible as admin, but you don’t have to keep them. You are still a kid. You don’t need to keep that responsibility if you want something else.” When Tubbo didn’t look convinced, Grian sighed. “If you want, we can make someone else admin, and if it doesn’t work, you just call me over and I’ll take them away again.”

“Grian, there’s a good chance you could kill someone doing that.”

“And I wouldn’t regret it!”

“Yes you would.”

“Okay maybe.”

Mumbo just gave a very tired sounding sigh.

As dinner was wrapping up, Grian pulled Grumbot over to a side room. “Alright, you were able to help Tommy out with Tubbo and apparently you knew more about Techno than you were going to tell me.”

“That is true.” Grumbot answered. “But you two build me the way you did.”

“I know, and I really regret it.” Grian pulled out a diamond. “Grumbot, do you know anything about Tubbo’s dad?”

Grumbot took the diamond and then processed the question. He was silent for a few long moments, making Grian start to believe that there was nothing Grumbot could find on the man. But just as he was losing hope, Grumbot spoke again.

“He’s called The Captain.”

#hermit!tommy au #hermit!tommy #grian #grian xelqua #tubbo #grumbot #jrumbot #mumbo jumbo #philza #wilbur soot #technoblade #itsfundy #iskall85

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dana-chan-the-control-brain · 4 years ago

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Happy new year everyone 🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉

I know 2020 has been hard for everyone.

And I want everyone to know, suffering isn't a contest and we all suffer in different ways. But I feel I should give my year in Review. Just some things that happened to me personally.

This was an intense, and long and spiritual and emotional journey for me...

I really discovered what it meant to have community, family and what my life means to me.

But I feel I need to get this in writing cause I can remember the year with vivid detail and I will probably forget if I don't get it down.

Do I have to share this publically online to my tumblr account for a bunch of strangers to see? not really.

Do I want to?

Yes. I think so. Just from how so many people on tumblr and real life have touched me.

This is kinda long and no one needs to read this.

(idk how to do a readmore on mobile. But this is where I would add it later. No one needs to read if they don't want to.)

January/February: (and some background on the last five years of my life cause.....well. it's important.)

As people knew, I got way into Invader Zim last summer. I spent most of my waking life working a dead end job at a grocery store. I lived a sad lonely life, going straight home to a single dark studio apartment. With not many material possessions outside of games, my laptop and my tablet to my name. Half of my material loves, such as home furnishings and books were still in boxes from when I moved in. In case I ever had to move again, or get some "big screenshot or copywriter" job in the city.

....

I lived in that city in the same dead end job and apartment for five years.

No friends. No social life. I often refused to make doctor appointments or attempt to establish myself in that city. I didn't even talk to anyone in my workplace.

Work. Go online. Go to sleep.

I lived like that for five years.

I thought it was good.

Even my therapist thought I was doing well.

When I really wasn't. My main character flaw I struggle with is motivation.

I can talk to someone about very detailed plans I have to fix a problem... But I tend to never follow through.

Just because I can describe in detail how to fix my personal problems, it doesn't mean I will do it.

(I have gotten better at this but it's a major struggle)

I might have been a Zombie during the day...

But by night I was pouring my soul into my AU and my analysis.

After being so thoughly ignored or overlooked by the Naruto fandom and the Undertale fandom, I felt like I had finally found my home and was settling into a community there.

I just loved that people loved what I had to say.

Especially my AU.

It's no secret that a lot of themes in my au revolve around found family, grief, and loss.......

Fatherhood, in particular.

What it means to be a father, how much do you need to try when you mess up, how willing should a child forgive their parent, especially those that have wronged you and how much of it is factually accurate and simply a self projection of what children want their parents to be and visa versa... What amount of forgiveness and change is nessasary...is it needed?

....

It's no secret that a lot of my AU is a giant coping mechanism for my Dad's death. Espessially the falling out and growing closer with a lot of my family members throughout the years following his death. (Most of the time I keep it ambiguous to how it relates to my personal life unless I include a readmore that states so outright. I feel my au can be enjoyed by a variety of people in the fandom who don't need to know me as a person or my life story.)

My Dad passed away in 2016 in February and my family still feels the aftershocks to this day.

It's part of the reason I moved to the city, alienated myself from my family and people that loved me and refused to experience life for five years.

My entire world was Zim, and I was okay.

March: When America finally realized and started to feel the effects of the pandemic....

A lot of people got scared.

Me included.

I didn't have any streaming services or access to the news. So I only heard accounts from my mom.

I didn't understand why the store was so dead quiet and empty for a few days, then it went into mass chaos and panic in the span of two days.

It felt like Retail black friday in the worst way. Everyone was packed like sardines. Everyone was yelling. The lines at the registers bled into the clothing department.

I was witness to customers shoving others for toilet paper, being rude to cashier's and just overall unpleasantness.

At the time, I didn't even fully grasp what the pandemic was, and I feel a lot of people at the time didn't either.

I ended up absentmindedly scratching my eyebrow in front of a customer and she screamed and villanised me for it. That they didn't want groceries touched by my "unclean hands"

I ended up breaking down into tears.

The customer behind me gave me a hug and told me I was doing a great job.

But the damage was done. It was the final straw, I couldn't stop crying and I was breaking apart.

Thankfully my Boss (the one who likes me) pulled me aside and asked what's wrong.

It was then that I quit. No notice. Same day. I had to get out of there.

I was planning to move to an apartment with my sister in the summer, but my Mom offered for me to move back in with her temperarily just so I can get out of the city and away from the pandemic.

So I did.

I got scared, broke my lease a month early and quit my job of five years that gave me nothing back.

He told me, "take care of yourself and your family, I won't keep you here, do what you need to do."

So I did.

April-June:

A very eventful few months.

My mom offered for me to live at her place, but for some reason she was acting like I would live there forever. That this wasn't a temporary arrangement, and that I didn't have an apartment set up already.

This was in large part to my sister, who had lived with my mom taking advantage of her for years.

Even though my sister and I were going to move in together, I was just never sure about it cause of how she never packed her stuff or made any effort to find a job.

My mom often acted like I was lazy and not searching and was treating me like... Well, an unruly teenager instead of a woman of 29 years. She acted like I was a failure for returning home when it was her idea in the first place.

I would have just been petrified in the city.

Like usual, I retreated to my au again.... And in the spring, something eventful happened.

In may, 8th 2020:

I was invited by @rissynicole to join an invader zim discord.

Now, I've never really used discord before. I always thought it's interface is too confusing.. and I'm a member of a few other iz discords and I usually don't follow them that closely.

Rissy assured me it was different cause some friends of thiers made it and it was smaller.

Before I knew it, I was sharing memes and getting to know everyone there.

It wasn't long after I invited my partner in IZ crimes, @paketdimensioncomic who was genuinely wary of iz servers due to a bad experience with the last one they were a part of.

But soon they were sharing memes and laughing with everyone else.

My eyes were starting to open and I was able to connect to fans of my work in an interpersonal way. And I was able to discover new artists and aus I never knew about.

I was also able to meet so many others of the community and invite them to the server myself.

The moo-ping 10 server kept me sane while I was living with my judgmental mother.

Not only that, the summer was very productive for my au.

Drawing was all I did, and it was a huge break from the job as a cashier I had.

Not only that, June came, and with it, me and Ceph's first collab fic:

A result of us just going back and forth in our DMs constantly about Professor Membrane and how he changed in ETF for the better and how much we adamantly stan "trying-to-be-a-good-dad-brane" and how much of his ETF development has to be implied off screen in order for the emotional resolution in the movie to matter.

The only reason I never professed my love for Membrane as a character in the fandom before the fic dropped was.... Well....

Membrane can be a decisive character in the fandom and I was so worried people would hate me if I did an analysis on him, simply because he's not the best parent in the world. (As an understatement)

Ceph and I really encouraged each other to scream our love for the science himbo loud and proud more frequently and so often.... I actually start to see less Membrane hate posts and breakdowns then their used to be.... I like to think it's a combination of Me and Ceph's influence, along with ETF and the Quarterly's painting Membrane in a slightly more nuanced light then he was previously.

I never wrote a collab fic before and it's such a rewarding and fun and unique experience that I don't think I'll ever have again. And I love working with Ceph on our fics so much.

So much so we did it again...

July-August:

I never thought I would be one of those people who writes NSFW IZ fic... But here I am.

The Brainbrane au started.... An au of my au where Membrane and the Computer fall in love and Membrane makes him a body.

This ship was based around the idea where we joked that Membrane and Zim's Computer would have funny interactions if they ever met, under the pretense Membrane thinks Computer is Zim's parent.

Our headcanons morphed and shifted until we just full blown started shipping them.

Just because Membrane and Zim's Computer have overall REALLY entertaining chemistry.

It's a character dynamic never seen in the show or comics (yet) and I imagine thier interactions to be nothing but entertaining banter.

The fic was also born from spite... Making fun of the troupes and cliches that we found personally destestible in some questionable zadr fics.

So an angry ace and a demi-bisexual collab on a porn and end up blessing the fandom with

Compapa headcanons,

Computer being recognized as a more common used fanon character,

The ship of Brainbrane.

The fandom having a crisis of "oh God, not only are we xenophiles we're technophiles too!!!" Or "why you gotta give Zim's Computer an ass"

More android Computer designs

It was an eventful summer.

In the midst of all this, I moved into my new place, got a new job, and I was able to see my friend (who is def my platonic straight soul mate) who lives in Indiana.

She came to visit, showed me how to decorate and how to take care of my body better! Things were looking up! It was great.

September-November:

My job was at a boat store. If was approaching the fall and my hours were being severely cut.

I was getting into a rut of depression again.

I thought things were changing but the same routine I was trying to escape from was the same thing coming back.

But instead of letting it take hold, I decided I was going to do something about it... I was gonna visit a museum and go with my sister. Just... variety stimulation.

Well that didn't happen.

I talked about this shortly in my au itself...but..

My sister had a complete mental breakdown.

She stopped taking her meds, went off the deep end and was in the hospital a total of five times throughout November.

A lot of it was acting out and the perfect storm of environmental factors that made her scream and act out so she would keep going back to the hospital.

It was traumatizing for me.

I just can't explain what it's like. For her and for me to be in that position.

I'm not telling the full story and a lot of bullshit things happened I won't share here.

She got diagnosed with bipolar one and my mom expected me to be a caretaker for her.

I threatened to disown my family and move away out of state.

It was just too much for me to handle.

So much I was a nervous wreck.

I tried to pick up a second job... Cause my sister was in the mental ward so frequently and couldn't pay the bills.

But I was fired within a week cause I was so stressed I couldn't retain the basic information they were training me for.

It was an office job.

My dream.

It could have been.

I was fired from something I really wanted.

I was only there for three days.

I could not retain any information.

I was a mess.

My sister was a trigger, my mom wanted me to live with her. I couldn't live like this.... I had to get out.

I had to get out.

December:

Remember my Indiana friend?

Well the first week of December is my birthday.

My 30th to be exact.

While I did pick up a seasonal position at Target (not my first pick)

I took the first week of December off so I could spend time with her. Cause she agreed, I needed a break from this crap.

Surviving 30 years is cause to celebrate and if I had to celebrate with my sister I would have cried.

I know there was a risk traveling out of state during a pandemic...

But I needed out, I needed a friend..

And I kinda wanted to look at the place since I was considering moving there.

My friend's mom was sick so she avoided me and her daughter and got us a hotel room.

It was fun! I got to swim in a salt water pool, we talked about Naruto, I showed her the iz and su art books I brought, also Computer and Membrane tea.

I also got to meet her other friends and get crunk. And her bf who is super nice and funny!

I had a super fun birthday....

Until her mom told my friend that her grandparents had covid and that was what she had. And my friend got sick within that same day.... As did I.

I owe so much to her family.

I was an entire state away...about a ten hour drive from home.... She let me stay at her house. "The covid house" we called it.

Cause everyone (except the father. He avoided everyone and booked a hotel immediately cus he was an ER doctor) had covid within a day.

I called in, the test results were positive and I had to stay with her family for ten days quarantine before I could work again.

Which would have been fine....

If my tumblr didn't log me out perminately of my old account. @dana-chan325 .... Which really sucked cause I had a constant headache and was too sick to engage with tumblr or much of the fandom. I didn't want to make a new account when my head was in a bad fog and I could barely breathe or smell.

It's not like I saw much of my friend either.... We all slept at different hours and she had more symptoms then I did.

It was just netflix, danganronpa v3 and cry.

I was miserable, but at the same time.... Not?

I really feel like God himself was the one who pulled me off from tumblr, and my living situation.

Maybe a whole extra week feeling like a bobblehead was what I needed.

It gave me some much needed clarity on my relationships with my mom and sis and friend.

Running away to Indiana was not the solution here.

Once I was better within ten days and no longer had a leave of absence, I drove home.

I am glad I fully recovered (but from how I understand it, my dear friend is still ill. I'm praying for her)

I might have gone to work a bit too soon, cause I had an asthma attack after trying to unload a single cart in the span of six hours.

My boss lectured that my speed was unacceptable, and even though I explained the covid situation and breathing problems many times, she threatened that I'd be fired if I'm that slow again.

Que the next few days of work where they put me on register.

Instantly I was sent into a panic remembering the last time I was on the register and how that panic attack caused me to quit.

I even asked if I could go back to stocking, since my breathing had improved. My boss assured me that I was put on the register cause they needed help and nothing to do with my covid thing.

Then as December concluded and the new year began, my boss said that this was the last shift for me cause my position was seasonal and they were letting a lot of people go.

I then asked why I was on the schedule for Sunday, and he told me to ignore it and I'm free to reapply for full-time.

I mean.... They can act smart about it...

But putting your general merchandise stocker onto register after she had an asthma attack and missed working the first two weeks of December due to covid.....

Not a good look.

So once again, I'm jobless once more.

Will probably continue to live with my sister for awhile.

But I do not feel as if it's a bad thing....

I met so many good people this year....

My friend's family even gave me 500 usd to cover my rent since I couldn't work for a majority of December.

I've seen evil and good from humanity this year. I've seen acts of god, good friends and what my real family means to me as well as friends I consider family.

This year really made me look back at the person in the mirror and say,

"I deserve better."

And actually worked for it this time.

Oh and after Christmas I got a horrible yeast infection that burns over most of my body currently.

Very accurate doodle to the pain I'm in right now.

(seriously my body is a fungus.)

But hey, good news, I respected myself enough to go to the doctor about it!!

So that's progress.

I really hope 2021 holds good things for me.

Thank you to the mooping 10 server for always being there and keeping me sane,

Thank you tumblr for liking my au and everything.

AND A SUPER SPECIAL THANK YOU TO @evartandadam and her family for housing me and my dumb diseased ass. Everyone, she is an angel and I can't express how much she means to me. Please check out her art and buy her stuff on redbubble.

Anyways... Byebye 2020.

I look forward to what I can accomplish for myself this year.

#danachan's posts #personal stuff #new year post #tw: covid #tw: yeast infection

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glorious-spoon · 4 years ago

Text

When the Seasons Stop [Leverage/The Old Guard]

Title: When the Seasons Stop Fandom: Leverage; The Old Guard Pairings: Gen-ish or pre-relationship Eliot/Hardison/Parker Warnings: Temporary character death, canon-typical violence Other tags: Hurt/comfort, immortality Summary: Eliot Spencer damn well knew better than to get this close to a couple of mortals. But he never expected this.

There’s nothing new about the bullet punching through Eliot’s lung, nicking an artery and shattering a rib on its way out. He can feel the world start to squeeze and fold in a familiar way, but that’s not what worries him. What worries him is the gasping quality of Parker’s voice over the comms, the shaky way she said he’s all smashed up inside and the trail of blood zig-zagging out to the van.

Sophie’s hands grasp at him, pulling him in. Her eyes are huge and dark with tears, and Eliot can’t get the lung capacity to reassure her. Isn’t sure there’s anything worth reassuring at all when blood is soaking into the floor (Hardison will be so mad, he thinks stupidly, but it’s Hardison’s blood, his and Parker’s, and they’re sprawled there like broken toys as the van peels away into the street. There are sirens. Nate is swearing fluently and foully in the front as Sophie heaves herself through to drop into the seat beside him).

None of it fucking matters. Eliot’s vision is starting to tunnel, but he can still see Hardison gasping with blood on his lips.

“Did Eliot make it out?”

“Age of the geek, brother,” Eliot rasps, grasping for him, fumbling, fingers slick with blood. Hardison’s long fingers twitch weakly when he grips them. On his other side, Parker’s cold hand slips into his. She’s tilted back against the wall, her shirt stained with dark blood, soaking through to pool beneath her, and she’s already so cold.

She’s bleeding out, Eliot thinks vaguely, but his body is too leaden and heavy to do anything about it. His thoughts fragment into the thickening darkness, and the last thing he remembers is hoping against desperate hope that this time, this time, he won’t wake up to see the aftermath.

He comes to choking in silty water, flailing, splashing. Sinks into the dark and maybe drowns a second time before he finally surfaces. His head hits metal, and he gasps in the small pocket of air beneath it, his mind becoming aware bit by horrible bit. He’s died in a lot of bad ways since he took a bullet to the heart in the winter of 1861 and woke hours later face-down and stripped of his guns and boots in the cold Nebraska mud. But this one might just be the worst of them.

It’s too dark to see, but he fumbles until his hands close over a bony wrist, cloth and cold skin. Hardison’s, by the size. And there’s Parker floating to his left, her hair spreading out in the water and tangling around his wrist when he pulls her to him, puts a hand under her nose like he really thinks he��ll feel breathing.

Like there’s more than half a dozen people in the world who could wake up from this.

“Parker,” he rasps. His throat feels raw, and he tells himself that it’s the leftovers from breathing in river water. “Parker. Hardison. Come on. Come on.”

There’s no response. They’re cold and limp, floating lifelessly in the icy water, and Eliot can’t pretend that the heat welling up in his eyes is anything other than tears.

“Come on,” he rasps again. “Come on, Parker. Damn it, Hardison, wake up.”

There’s nothing. Just bodies, just Parker’s hair tangled around his fingers and Hardison’s expressive hands gone terribly still. Eliot drives his fist into the side of the van and feels his knuckles break and heal in an instant, and then he ducks beneath the water to check for the front of the van.

It’s empty, and he hopes with a dull, flickering sort of hope that Nate and Sophie at least got out alive. Then he goes back to pull the floating corpses of his dearest friends out through the shattered window, one after another. He loops his arms around them like this is a rescue instead of a recovery and kicks until his head breaks the swift surface of the river.

The water is deep and fast here, and it’s not easy to keep his head above it without letting go of either of his burdens, which he damn well is not going to do. He manages, at the very least, not to drown again before his feet finally find the soft mud in the shallows.

He pulls them both to the shore, scrabbling in the silty mud until they’re above the water line, and then he sinks to the ground and puts his head in his hands. Tries to breathe. Tries not to breathe, maybe, since that’s never been his problem. It doesn’t work, either way. His chest hurts like he can still feel the lingering ache of that bullet from a hundred and fifty-some years ago, but he knows it’s not that. Knows that it’s nothing more than simple grief.

He knows better, is the thing. He knows better than to get too attached. He always knew that his life would encompass both Parker’s and Hardison’s by years, centuries (millennia, if Andy is to be believed, and Eliot believes her because he’s never met another person so fucking tired of it all), but he just. He thought he’d have more time. He thought he’d get to dance at their wedding. He thought he’d get to watch Parker take over the reins from Nate and make Leverage into something lasting and real; he thought he’d get to watch Hardison going on about new computer shit for decades to come, going gray and bent and still leaning over his screens with that brilliant joy. He thought he’d get to welcome their children and watch them grow.

He thought that maybe, someday, he’d trust them both with his secret.

He thought he had more fucking time.

Something shifts to his left. Eliot lifts his head listlessly. If it’s cops, he’ll go into custody quietly. If it’s someone looking for trouble, maybe he’ll just let them kill him. Either way, he doesn’t have it in him right now to fight.

It’s neither of those things, though. Instead, Hardison’s body seizes, jerks, and then heaves upright like it’s spring-loaded. He’s hacking and coughing, vomiting murky water, his eyes so wide and wild that Eliot can see the whites all the way around. His hands dig into the mud, then lift to claw at his grimy, bloody shirt.

Cloth parts. Beneath it is bare skin, smooth and completely undamaged. No sign of the shattered bone and pulpy bruising that should be there. Hardison pats at himself frantically and finally lifts his head to meet Eliot’s eyes.

“Eliot,” he says, weak and rasping. “We—I thought—”

“Hardison,” Eliot breathes, and for a wild instant he has no idea what to think. Hardison was dead, he was dead, Eliot’s seen more dead bodies than he can count and he knows what they look like. What they feel like. Hardison was dead. Which means...

“Parker,” Hardison gasps, and then, “Parker, where’s Parker,” and before Eliot can even think to speak there’s gasping on the other side of him and Parker’s thready voice saying first Hardison’s name and then Eliot’s.

Eliot drops his head into his hands and laughs until he cries.

It takes a while to explain it. Or, to be more accurate: it takes a while to get to the closest safehouse that they can be reasonably sure isn’t compromised, which turns out to be one of Parker’s warehouses. She’s got A/C set up somehow, and clothes for both of them—Eliot recognizes the t-shirt she tosses him as one that went missing in the move to Portland all those months ago—and has even rigged up something that could generously be termed shower facilities.

“I thought you didn’t keep any of these anymore,” Hardison mumbles as she steers him to the sprayer that’s zip-tied to a pipe over a wide, shallow trough. The whole thing is brutally utilitarian in a very Parker kind of way.

“You never know when you might need to go to ground. Always be prepared.”

A ragged laugh escapes Hardison’s lips. “Boy Scouts. Cool, cool.”

Parker is busy unbuttoning his shirt; she pulls that off and starts on his pants. Hardison doesn’t squawk any objections about his modesty, which just goes to show how deeply shaken he is; Eliot turns away anyway as both their clothes hit the floor and the water sputters on. He can wait his turn. He once hiked thirty miles on the trail of horse thieves with the remnants of his own guts decorating his clothes; this isn’t even close to the most disgusting he’s ever been.

“Eliot,” Parker says firmly, and he lifts his head. They’re both naked, and he can’t quite stop himself from staring at all that smooth undamaged skin laid bare. Parker’s right shoulder is caked with blood that’s washed her entire side with red, but there’s no bullet-hole now. Beside her, Hardison is steady on his feet, standing easily on a leg that was shattered an hour ago.

They’re both alive.

Eliot blinks, then jerks his head to the side a moment too late. “Go ahead. I can wait.”

“Or you could just come here,” Hardison says, with a raw edge of humor. “You look like a drowned rat.”

“Thanks a lot,” Eliot huffs. He considers trying to argue, then finds abruptly that he doesn’t have the energy. He kicks off his boots and starts pulling his clothes off, leaving them in a stinking bloody heap on the floor. Parker and Hardison both watch him in a way that makes him feel weirdly exposed. It’s not prurient, not really. He has a feeling that they’re looking at his naked body the same way he was just looking at theirs. Cataloguing the injuries that should be there, and aren’t.

Drawing some conclusions, maybe, about all of the beatings that he’s walked away from without a limp in the time they’ve known each other.

“You got some explaining to do,” Hardison says, almost apologetically, as he draws Eliot into the tub with them. He keeps a firm grip on Eliot’s elbow like he’s expecting him to bolt, which to be fair isn’t completely outside the realm of possibility. Eliot has imagined stepping into a shower with the two of them more times than he can count, but this particular scenario never featured in his daydreams.

“Yeah,” Eliot admits, closing his eyes. The spray washes over him, rinsing away the blood and river mud, but the panic—that terrible bleak echo of grief—that lingers. “I will. I promise.”

While Parker and Hardison are getting dressed, he takes one of Parker’s burner phones and goes out behind the building to call Andy.

“I have the new ones,” he says without preamble when she picks up. He knows that she knows what he’s talking about. They’ll have dreamed this, the four of them.

There’s a long pause, and then Andy says, “Good. We’re in Afghanistan. Do you need us there?”

He can hear voices in the distance. It’s impossible to make out the words over the shitty international connection, but even so he recognizes Joe’s laughing cadence. He’s heckling someone; Booker, probably. Nicky has to be there too.

Eliot misses them all so much that it aches. He squeezes his eyes shut. “Nah. I can take care of it.”

“You know them,” Andy says. “Don’t you.”

It’s not really a question.

“Yeah,” Eliot says on a breath of laughter, all the same. “Yeah, you sure could say that.”

There’s a hell of a lot that Andy could say in response, especially after the way everything went down with Eliot and Moreau ten years back, but all she does say, after a slight pause, is, “Well, good. That’ll make it simpler. You can explain about the dreams, but we’ll be in the States by the end of the week.”

Eliot laughs again, more genuinely. “Yeah, okay. It’s— It’ll be good to see you all. I miss you.”

“We miss you too,” Andy says, very gently, and ends the call before Eliot has to find a way to do it.

When he gets back inside, Parker and Hardison are dressed and sitting at the folding table. Both of them lift their heads as he approaches.

“Where’d you go?” Hardison asks.

“Had to call a friend.” Eliot makes a face. The time for prevarication is over, but that doesn’t mean he has a damn clue how to explain this. Until right now, he’s been the baby of the gang. “Andy, her name is Andy. She’s another one. Like us.”

“Like us, like us, okay,” Hardison says. “What—what does that mean, exactly? We—you got shot. Parker got shot. I had a broken leg. We all—” He shakes his head. “What happened?”

Eliot takes a breath, opens his mouth, closes it again. Finally, bluntly, he says, “You died. We all did.”

“Cut the bullshit,” Hardison says. There’s an uncharacteristic snap to his voice. He sounds genuinely angry for the first time. Scared, too. He sounds scared. Eliot wishes like hell there was anything at all he could do to fix that, but all he has to offer is the truth.

He sighs and says, to Parker, “You got a knife?”

She reaches back without breaking her eerily intent gaze to scoop a switchblade off the table and toss it to him. Eliot plucks it out of the air and opens it, then takes a deep breath, spreads his left hand out, and drives the blade into it until the point emerges from his palm. Blood dribbles onto the floor; Hardison jolts forward with a horrified noise.

Parker is still just watching him, cool-eyed and assessing. He pulls the blade out and holds up his hand so that they can watch the hole he just made heal in seconds.

“Oh shit,” Hardison says faintly. “I think I’m gonna throw up.”

Parker stares at him a moment longer, then holds out her hand. “Can I do that?”

“It’ll still hurt,” Eliot warns her, but he hands the knife back. She cleans it carelessly on a shop rag, then tests the edge of it thoughtfully.

Hardison rubs a hand over his mouth, then says, carefully, “Babe, please don’t stab yourself. I can’t watch that twice in a row.”

“It would heal, though.” She looks up and fixes Eliot with a burning look. “Right?”

Eliot sighs. “Right.”

She nods slowly. “That wasn’t the first time you died. Was it.”

“Not by a long shot.”

Hardison looks up at that, eyes narrowed. “When was the first time?”

“1861,” Eliot sighs. “I was guarding a mail coach in the Nebraska Territory, and we were attacked, and...”

“Eighteen—eighteen sixty-one. Okay.”

“Sorry.”

“For being old as balls?”

It startles a laugh out of him. “Yeah, I guess.”

“And there’s more of you.” Hardison pauses. “Of us.”

“Yeah. Four—” He pauses, winces. Thinks of Quynh, drowning and drowning under the ocean. Her deaths have been in his dreams for well over a hundred years. She’s been a constant companion, even if he’s never met her and probably never will. “Five more.”

“Are they older than you, or younger?”

“Older. Lots older.”

“So what you’re saying, basically,” Hardison says, “is that we’re immortal.”

“Yeah,” Eliot says dryly, “that was the general gist of it.”

Parker is starting to smile, wild in a way that’s almost inhuman. “Oh, I’m going to jump off the Sears Tower without a harness.”

“Babe,” Hardison says again, but he sounds distracted as he pulls a tablet toward him.

“You’ll still die,” Eliot tells her.

“Yeah,” she says dismissively, “but I’ll come back. Right?”

“Please don’t jump off the Sears Tower,” Hardison says absently. He chews on his lower lip as he does something on the tablet, shifting lights on the screen reflecting in his eyes. “Okay. Good news, Nate and Sophie are okay. Bad news, Sophie is in the hospital and Nate’s been taken into custody in Highpoint Tower.” He looks up and meets Eliot’s eyes, expression challenging. “We need to get him out.”

Eliot nods, relieved. “Yeah. We do.”

Hardison nods too. He looks a little easier now—with a task at hand, with proof that the others are still alive, with the knowledge that he’s still him, Eliot doesn’t know. “Okay. That’s what we’ll do. And when we’re done we’re gonna come back here and you’re gonna answer all of our questions. Right?”

Eliot considers that moment on the river bank when he thought they both were dead. He considers the interrogation Hardison is going to subject him to, and the batshit insane stunts that Parker is going to pull, and he feels himself smiling, broad and helpless. “Anything you want.”

#leverage #the old guard #my fic #blood and gore #??#i guess

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monchikyun · 4 years ago

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XVI. another place, another time

(everyone’s favourite flash-back episode... tw-suicidal thinking)

March 2039

It’s been three days since the terrible accident. Three days and no sign of the walking toaster. Gavin doesn’t like to make baseless assumptions,though there is some chance the android might have been sent for deactivation for fatally endangering the life of his partner. This possibility would have filled him with joy just a few months ago, but now, it has managed to do the exact opposite.

He is deathly afraid of never seeing Connor again, of never arguing with the smartass about stupid things that don’t matter in the end, because they really only serve as an excuse for initiating some interaction. It’s not like he likes the tin can. Not like he’s developed a very inconvenient crush.

They’re not even officially friends yet, despite his semi-earnest apology for being an asshole to him before he deviated, and so Gavin has no valid excuse to go out of his way and seek his whereabouts. And even if did he have one, he wouldn’t know where to begin.

He drives by the late lieutenant’s house at least twice a day, always inconspicuously slowing down to check for any signs of life. But it always seems empty, devoid of any life. The lights are never on, the old car that used to decorate the front porch long gone. And yes, he could try asking, but he would have to be much more desperate than that to do something this humiliating. Everyone thinks he hates the human-shaped computer, and that’s a reputation he’s not willing to lose. Not yet, anyway. If he were to admit to his current outlook on the whole Connor situation, he would certainly appear weak. No one needs to know just how fragile he really is, that there is a heart that yearns underneath the steel armour of his.

Maybe he shouldn’t skip the funereal after all, the android might dare to attend. Though he has promised himself to steer clear of all mourning related places, perhaps it’s time to try and overcome his past trauma, if it increases the odds of seeing Connor alive once more.

Gavin slams the front door behind himself in frustration as he runs to his bedroom to see if he has something suitable to wear for the grim event. It will begin in a couple of hours, which is an optimal time to start reconsidering his decision. His hand can’t stop shaking as he raids his closet for something at least remotely formal, not having any luck finding what he’s looking for. That’s what happens when one leaves everything to the last possible moment, something he’s guilty of more often than not.

He’s about to give up when his phone rings, startling him silly. He’s been so focused on his racing thoughts that any reminder of the outside world would go unnoticed, were it not this annoyingly loud.

The set of numbers on screen runs a knife through his stomach. It’s him, the person he’s been thinking about non-stop this past week. He swallows the knot in his throat which was set on making him speechless and swipes his trembling finger over the green button, not giving himself any time to change his mind.

“Hello.” One simple word that took all the courage out of him.

“It’s Connor. I have a favour to ask of you.”

Meet me at the abandoned factory near Concord street.

Gavin’s body carries him to the car while his mind is busy shortcircuiting from the overload of all the possible things Connor might ask of him. None of them good.

He couldn’t read anything from his voice, other than it was perfectly stoic, machine-like even. Cold sweat drips down his forehead as he imagines the state the android might be in. What if he’s hurt himself in some way, thinking it was only justified. Gavin may not know all the details about what really happened that day, but still, he doesn’t blame Connor for the tragedy. He never would.

The car’s speed has reached an illegal territory about five minutes ago, and he figures not even death would stop him now, not till he reaches the stupid tin can. Till he makes sure he’s safe.

The place he parks in could result in his car getting towed away, a problem for his future self to deal with. Now he has to concentrate on locating the android, which means furiously running about the premises after he has clumsily snuck in inside the restricted area.

He opens his mouth to shout Connor’s name when he finally spots him as his sight aims up, standing near the edge of the roof, posture ominously straight, which might explain why doesn’t even notice Gavin.

“For phck’s sake,” he mutter to himself in vain and climbs up to him as fast as his human vessel allows him to.

“Connor!” Not really a scream, more of a subdued whine at this point. He’s out of breath and not only due to the view in front of him.

“I- I can’t do it.” The android turns to face Gavin, face all wet from crying, presumably. It’s not the Connor he’s got to know at work. This one is all dishevelled, looking like he’s seconds from breaking. It makes his heart weep.

“Of course not, you idiot.” He ventures three steps closer, but not near enough to reach.

“I thought that maybe you could, being the one person who hates me the most.” The way Connor says it squeezes his insides, making him want to yell at him for very different reasons this time.

Gavin doesn’t though, he only raises his voice slightly to let the tin can realise how utterly stupid he’s being right now.

“Wow, you really are dumb, aren’t you. So much for having the most advanced computer brain or whatever. What a pile of crap.”

“I- … no one else would do it. But I have to- I can’t keep being here after-”

“No one blames you for it, Connor.”

“That’s a lie and you know it.”

Maybe. He’d say anything to make him snap out of it though.

“Come here, then.”

Or do.

Connor walks to him sheepishly, like a misbehaving child about to receive a severe punishment. He can’t help but feel sorry for him.

As soon as he’s close enough Gavin pulls him into a hug, wrapping his arms around him ever so gently, fearing he might crumble to pieces under the unexpected act of kindness. And Connor too.

“First of all, I don’t hate you, not anymore. Not for a long time. Secondly… if you want to atone or something like that… ending your life or hurting yourself won’t sure as hell do it. That’s the easy road out. You gotta… continue using your skills to …. maybe prevent others from meeting the old man’s fate.”

Connor doesn’t reciprocate the touch, but his huge mechanical body is becoming limp and he can’t support it for much longer.

“Whoa, okay.” They’re on the ground in an instant, just barely sitting up. The android’s head is leaning into his chest, making it wet with tears Gavin thought were impossible until today.

“Hey, it’s okay. I- I’ll help you figure this out… if you let me.”

The small nod gets engraved into his skin, making him let out the breath that lodged itself somewhere between his lungs and throat, yet still managing to wreak havoc in his mind.

He uses the temporary wave of relief to use his shaking hands to soothe, drawing shapeless patterns into the crying man’s back.

Connor doesn’t hug him back, but that’s okay. As long as they’re both alive, there will always be another chance.

A̶n̶o̶t̶h̶e̶r̶ ̶c̶h̶a̶n̶c̶e̶ ̶t̶o̶ ̶s̶c̶r̶e̶w̶ ̶t̶h̶i̶s̶ ̶a̶l̶l̶ ̶u̶p̶.̶

@a-convin-new-year

#aconvinnewyear #convin #low-temperature burn #this one might be riddle with mistakes my brain needs a restart :D #so this is how their relationship started ooo T.T #i had no idea until I wrote it xD

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andorwhore · 4 years ago

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Saudade - I of VII

Chapter I of VII: Disdain

summary: A year in the life of a rebel with a cause and a rebel in search of one… chapter one: Of all the days for a slicer to break into the wrong ship, today was by far the worst.

author’s note: Here we go, chapter one! This story has been my baby the past few weeks as I’ve worked on it, and I can’t wait to share the finished product with everyone! I’ll mention it again here since I’m sure most readers haven’t seen my preview post -- the name Jai that’s featured in the fic is pronounced Ji (like pi), rather than as Jay.

pairing: Cassian Andor x OC word count: 10,610 (i would say i’m sorry but i’m not) rating: T, eventual R warnings: none (yet)

chapter one || chapter two || chapter three || chapter four

[ff.net] [ao3]

Setting foot on the Ring of Kafrene always posed a risk for Cassian Andor. The Ring, being an Empire territory, was always crawling with stormtroopers just waiting to pounce on unsuspecting prey, whether that prey be a rebel or a petty street thief. The trading post was home to Maker knows how many people and races, dense with the traffic of travelers and traders alike no matter the time or day. Cassian was lucky, having not yet encountered any problems with the resentful soldiers, but, then again, he was well-versed in how to keep a low profile, how to evade the Empire forces on each street and lingering outside every shop, how to simply blend into the crowd as if he were any other visiting trader; many of the other rebels he knew through the years weren't quite so lucky.

Cassian had arrived at the Ring of Kafrene not but an hour ago to meet with Tivik, the Rebellion's informant stationed in the colony who, although endlessly trepidatious, was almost always reliable. For months now Cassian had been making routine visits to the Ring to collect intel, each visit bringing the Rebellion small steps closer to being able to take on the Galactic Empire. Many times, Tivik had information that really served little use to Cassian, however, he could never know when a meeting would be a hit or miss.

This particular visit was a miss; all Tivik could provide was information the Rebellion had already known, and though he made no show of chiding Tivik for wasting his time, Cassian was nevertheless miffed about the wasted trip.

Cassian maneuvered through the crowded streets focused and in silence, avoiding any of the usual Kafrene distractions he'd grown accustomed to encountering. The colony was disgustingly overpopulated and became temporary residence for far too many travelers on any given day, drawing the attentions of thieves from every walk of life, whether they be petty pickpockets just looking to grab a few tradables or accomplished slicers intent on draining someone's account of all their credits. Whatever the case, Cassian was careful to avoid everyone on the Ring, both merchants, pedestrians, and thieves alike.

Cassian was so focused on returning to his U-Wing that he hadn't taken immediate notice of the KX security droid walking down the intersecting street ahead of him, though it didn't take the captain very long to spot the robotic eyesore amongst the crowd. It could have been any other KX droid, which there were a small number of in Kafrene, but the slight alteration to it's gait would clue to anyone in the know that this particular model was in fact the reprogrammed K-2SO.

Cassian's brow furrowed as his jaw set, approaching the droid - he was supposed to be waiting back at the ship, but, in true fashion, the droid elected to ignore that particular direction. Trips to Kafrene were always easier when the captain went on his own, but on occasion the droid insisted on tagging along despite Cassian telling him each and every time to just stay on the ship.

K-2SO had already noticed Cassian's approach, and once the man was close and readying to scold the droid as if he were a disobedient child, Kay spoke up first, "There seems to be a particularly high count of stormtroopers today, Cassian."

The captain hadn't made the same observation as the droid, but he didn't allow the statement to distract him from his intent, "I told you not to leave the ship."

"Yes, well, I have a bad feeling about this increased Empire presence, you're better off with me nearby if conflict were to arise." Cassian stared hard up into the eyes of the droid for a few long moments before peeling away his gaze, looking around to assess the number of stormtroopers currently in their proximity. At the moment, he could only spot a pair far down the street that he'd just walked up - he figured that wherever Kay may have noticed the excess stormtroopers had to be nearer to the colony's starport.

"Do you not think your presence might draw their attention to me?" Cassian questioned while turning back to Kay. If a droid could make an expression, Cassian was sure K-2SO was looking down at him with something akin to ridicule. Even the way the droid raised his arm, hand pointed in the direction they'd have to walk to return to their ship, seemed somehow mocking.

"Go, walk ahead, I'll keep my distance." Kay spoke with attitude, to which Cassian side-eyed as he passed by the droid to lead them back to the ship.

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The starport on the Ring of Kafrene was every thief's dream. Ships of traders, merchants, and everything in between were left relatively unattended, any security could be bought off if one had the right connections, and, if one was smart, they could make off with thousands of credits worth of goods. As ships improved and as droid security began to take over, it became more and more challenging for the average thief to get out of the port without being caught, but that meant less competition for the slicers amongst the Ring's residents.

Slicers weren't all that easy to come by on the trading colony. Actually, good ones weren't easy to come by - any amateur that somehow managed to get their hands on scramble keys suddenly started calling themselves slicers. And those were the same amateurs that got themselves thrown into a cell within hours of proclaiming, with severe overconfidence, that they had the skill to hack anyone's computer. No, the thieves drawn to the Ring of Kafrene very rarely had the aptitude for hacking, but then again, the colony wasn't exactly a prime destination for codebreakers to begin with. Slicers were far better suited for the Outer Rim Territories, on planets like Cantonica or Nevarro, where their skills could be put toward big jobs, where they were less likely to be harassed by any kind of authority. To be a slicer in the Expansion Territory was practically asking for trouble, asking for stormtroopers and the Empire to toss one behind bars without mercy.

However, there were a rare few slicers that could get by particularly well on the Ring of Kafrene. One of those infamous slicers, who managed to somehow be renowned in the slums of the colony and yet never encounter any trouble from the Empire, was named Tillian.

Tillian was a man known only by that one name, and very few had the pleasure of learning anything about him beyond that. As far as slicers went, he was arguably one of the best throughout the entirety of the Expansion Territory; and despite his criminal activity, Tillian had the consideration to share his skills with a select few that he saw potential in through the years. And one of those few was Jai'ren Tillian.

Jai was a young woman of unknown origin, but of well-known talent among the underbelly residents of the Ring of Kafrene. She may not have been a strong thief in comparison to all the competition that loitered around the colony, but where she lacked in pickpocketing, she excelled in hacking. Of the half dozen or so that Tillian had trained through the years, Jai proved to be the most apt for the talent of slicing, even from an early age.

Currently, Jai was taking the risk of breaking into multiple ships crammed into Kafrene's overcrowded starport. This wasn't her first, nor did she intend for it to be her last, visit to the port, slicing her way onto ships of all classes and sizes; Jai found that, for her, it was far easier to focus and get a job done when she wasn't distracted by the hustle and bustle of the cramped trading streets, and the risk of sneaking into the parking port was well worth the quiet she needed to get her task done.

Jai had just unlocked a third ship, stuffing her scramble key into the inner pocket of her coat while pushing a stray strand of ashy brown hair back up into her cap, careful to avoid shifting the goggles situated atop it. She threw a cautious glance back over her shoulder, bird-like eyes searching and ears listening to ensure no one had taken notice of her. With a satisfied expression she quickly ducked into the U-Wing and closed the door behind her to avoid any unwanted attention.

Jai stood in the hull, realizing that, despite the appearance from the outside that the ship was large, it's interior was actually a rather cramped space. Nibbling the inside of her lip, she eyed the hull left then right; she realized within a few moments that it didn't look like there was all that much lying around that would be worth anything to her. There were hardly any compartments or cubbies for storing goods, and it looked like the only serious computer aboard the ship wasn't used for much more than tracking whereabouts and sending messages. She let out a derided sigh while sliding her hands into the pockets of her worn pants, fingers toying with a small box she'd grabbed from the last ship she broke into just minutes prior.

'What a waste,' she thought, her eyes scanning the ship again in slow consideration. It looks as if she put in a lot of effort for a whole lot of nothing. But she might as well search for something, anything, to at least deem said effort reasonable - maybe, despite appearances, she could get her hands on something good.

"Right," Jai spoke aloud to herself, extracting her hands and lazily cracking her fingers down in front of her hips. She climbed up the couple of steps into the cockpit, eyeing the equipment briefly before checking every crack and crevice for some kind of valuables. After a minute, she stepped back down into the main hull of the U-Wing, eyes scanning more astutely to make sure she hadn't missed anything obvious. This ship's interior was so small, there was hardly space for much of anything; Jai noted that it would probably have felt cramped if there were any more than four or five people aboard.

As Jai considered the size of the ship, she looked down at her feet, studying the metal floor for a few long moments before her lower lip pushed out appraisingly - unless her eyes were deceiving her, it looked as if some of the floor panels lifted. Jai dropped to one knee to test her theory, finding that there was, in fact, a handle that she twisted to unlock. But she was all too quickly disappointed, finding that what was hidden under the floor was nothing more than a row of collapsible seats. With another frustrated huff, Jai pushed back down and locked the handle back in its place.

And at that same moment, the door to the U-Wing suddenly slid open.

Jai's head shot up so quickly that her cap and goggles nearly fell from her head, her coal eyes wide as they locked onto a man a few years her senior. He was frazzled as his harsh stare burned into her, panting deeply to catch his breath as if he'd been running at top speed. The surprise in his expression upon seeing the unexpected intruder quickly gave way to a look of vexation, brow knotting as he quickly stepped up into the ship, causing Jai to jump to her feet in panic. Her eyes briefly darted past the young man with alarm as she heard the sound of blasters, spotting a KX security droid not far behind. Blindly, Jai's hands fumbled along the wall behind her in hopes that she could somehow find the button to open the second hull door.

With surprising speed, the man jumped forward, slamming Jai against the wall and knocking the wind out of her, one hand putting pressure on the base of her neck and the other roughly gripping her at the elbow of one arm. His voice came out in a loud, rough growl, "Who the hell are you!?"

Jai's hands flew up, one gripping at the hand on her neck, the other to his chest, roughly trying to shove him away. Her black eyes shined with the same intensity as his own as she glared.

"Get off me." She hissed as she heard the droid clamber into the ship, heard the sound of blasters multiplying and growing closer. Tightening his grip on Jai, the man spun them around and shoved her back, Jai stumbling on her heels a few steps until she bumped into the KX droid, expecting it to immediately apprehend them both.

"We have to get out of here." The man spoke urgently to the droid, ignoring Jai as he took a defensive stance up against the wall and out of the line of fire, which had come to a momentary pause, "Get her the hell off my ship!"

Confusion pulled at Jai's expression - this man, who certainly wasn't with the Empire, just gave an Imperial droid orders? The droid interrupted her train of thought as it's large hand dropped onto Jai's shoulder, fingers roughly digging into her skin and causing her to let out a nearly feral hiss. Once more, she was momentarily disoriented as the droid spun her around on her heel, Jai tripping forward from the motion. Her wide eyes stared ahead of her with dread, eyeing the wall of rapidly approaching stormtroopers as they started taking aim once more, assuming her to be a part of whatever kind of trouble this man had stirred up. Jai sharply inhaled as she realized just how deeply she was in over her head.

Panicked instinct took over as Jai attempted to rip away from the KX droid, managing to roughly yank herself away from it's one-handed hold; but she wasn't fast enough to avoid the blast from one of the more trigger-happy troopers, who had misread her quick movement and assumed she was preparing to take action against them.

Jai's abdomen was suddenly searing with pain, as if someone had doused her insides with gasoline and set them on fire. A ragged scream ripped from her throat as Jai collapsed backwards from the impact into the droid before falling to her knees, grasping desperately at her stomach as she dropped.

Though the moment had only lasted a second, to Cassian it was as if it all moved in slow motion. He saw how rapidly this woman's eyes went from anger to panic to pain, how roughly she was shoved back from the power of the shot, and heard how heavily her knees collided with the floor. In that split second he had to make a decision. Did he shove her out onto the port to be left to the stormtroopers' mercy, or did he close the ship door with her still inside? She could have been just a small-time thief… but what if she was a spy? She needed medical attention - maybe he should help her. But if she was a spy… he could always bring her back to Yavin 4 and throw her in a cell for a little while.

In that second of thought, which weighed on Cassian as if it had lasted minutes, he thrust his hand onto the button to close the door before clambering up to the cockpit at top speed. Just as quickly as the door hand closed, the stormtroopers outside started to take fire, their shots ringing out against the U-Wing's metal exterior.

"We need to get out of here now, Kay!" He called authoritatively to the droid that still lingered over the woman, "We'll deal with her later."

Jai cursed under her breath as K-2SO moved to join Cassian in the cockpit. From where she knelt on the floor, curled into herself as she tried to ignore her pain, Jai turned her tear-stricken eyes up in the direction of the pair, her anger bubbling - she got shot because these two assholes did something to piss off the troopers. The fact that they were flying out of the Ring of Kafrene wasn't even a thought in her head as Jai tried to push herself up off the floor, resulting in another agonized shout to leap from between her lips. The sound called Cassian's attention, and he turned in his seat to stare sharply at the woman as she tried to fight against the pain racing through her. He met her eyes, momentarily perturbed by just how pitch black they appeared; the darkness of her eyes made the intensity of her glare all the more fiery and challenging.

Once the ship was a safe distance from the Ring of Kafrene and Cassian was certain Kay could handle the flight back to Yavin 4, he grabbed the medical pack from behind his seat and jumped down to assist the woman, particularly uninterested in having her bleed out on the floor of his U-Wing. Jai had managed to get herself propped up against the wall, slouched with the pained glare never wavering from her features as she watched Cassian approach. He held eye contact sternly, unphased by the harshness being sent his way. For a long moment, he simply stood above her, assessing Jai with a careful eye.

"Who are you?" He finally questioned, remaining firmly where he stood as Jai's gaze briefly flicked down to the medical kit in his hand.

"None of your business." She answered through clenched teeth as she tried to hold back another groan of discomfort.

"If you'd like me to help you, it is my business." He saw the woman peer at the medical bag again, obviously battling with herself over whether or not she should answer his question, "Why the hell were you on my ship?"

Jai clenched her lips tightly together as she studied the man before her - who the hell was this guy and what sort of trouble did she unintentionally get wrapped into? He had to be someone far worse than her if he had attracted the attention of every damn stormtrooper on Kafrene, which eliminated him from being any old thief or cheat. Jai assumed his ship was another obvious clue as to his affiliations, however, she knew very little about ships aside from how to break in and out of them so she could deduce nothing from it. Chances were he was a murderer or a rebel or some kind of conspirator against the Empire. Maybe even all three.

Jai gave a sudden, sharp inhale as her pain seemed to peak yet again, clenching her arms tighter around herself as she clamped her eyes shut. Cassian gauged her reaction with apathy, having decided that, until proven otherwise, he had to assume her an affiliate of the Empire to err on the side of caution. What other explanation was there for her presence aboard the U-Wing at the same moment that the stormtroopers attempted to apprehend him?

"Unless you start talking, I'll let you bleed until you pass out, and then we're dumping you on the nearest moon whether it's breathable or not." He spoke assertively, jaw tense and eyes authoritative. Jai's eyes opened a little weaker than before, agony beginning to wash away her defiant expression, "Did the Empire send you to my ship?"

Despite her discomfort, Jai gave a mocking and surprised huff, the corner of her mouth tugging into an offended grin, "The Empire? You think they'd hire some street rat to break into your ship?"

"Maybe you're just undercover." Cassian crossed his arms as he studied the way Jai's body began to react to her injury, how her breathing came out in shudders, how her skin began to pale, how her forehead glistened with sweat - she probably wasn't going to remain conscious all that much longer, "Look, you're not likely to make it either way, so you may as well admit the truth."

"What?" Genuine concern took Jai's expression at the prospect of possibly dying from this injury; she jolted from the fear, causing pain to course through her abdomen again. Cassian's brow quirked at the reaction - maybe she was just a run-of-the-mill Kafrene thief.

Jai's hand started fumbling in her coat for a moment, to which Cassian cautiously stiffened, loosening his crossed arms just enough for his free hand to linger a little closer to his blaster. She extracted what appeared to be some kind of small electronic chip, holding it in his direction a moment before dropping it into her lap, going back to pull a jewelry box from another pocket.

"I promise you, I'm just a thief," Her voice had begun to sound a little rough as she let her head drop back against the cool metal wall, "Just a thief who was looking to get some good steals; I'm not with the Empire."

Cassian stared into her worried face for a few moments longer, his brow furrowed as he watched for any nervous ticks or odd behaviors. But he spotted none, simply recognizing the desperate plea in her eyes, "… Okay."

He unfolded his arms and crossed the last few feet between them, taking a knee while opening the medical kit. A relieved inhale slipped past Jai's lips as she closed her eyes, attempting to even out her rocky breathing. After a few moments of rummaging, Cassian gave a curse under his breath - they were out of bacta spray. They must have forgotten to restock the kit after their last mission, and now he couldn't properly assist this woman.

His eyes swung back up to stare at Jai, resting his hands atop his knees as he thought - he had no choice but to bring her back to headquarters medical, because he surely couldn't turn around and try to drop her off with some doctor back on Kafrene. If he didn't bring her back with them to Yavin 4, there was no guarantee she'd get the proper help she needed, and Cassian wasn't interested in letting an innocent woman die because of him, even if she is a thief.

Jai realized Cassian had come to a pause and she opened her eyes, tiredly looking over at him expectantly, "… I don't have the supplies I need to fix this. I might have enough to hold you over until I can get you medical attention, though."

"Might?" Her voice was weaker, but her fear was no less obvious.

Cassian nodded, "I think I have painkillers and antiseptic, but that's not enough to fix this."

"You're saying I might fucking die because your med kit is inadequate?" Jai's voice was breathy, but her words still managed to carry some bite to them as her eyes darkened again.

"If we make it back to base on time, no." Cassian answered simply while reaching into the pack for what little supplies he did have to offer. He turned his head toward the cockpit slightly while calling out, "Kay, get us back as fast as you can."

"Is it really wise to bring her to headquarters?" The droid questioned as Cassian moved closer to Jai, holding the painkillers out to her.

"Where and what the hell is headquarters?" She questioned while taking the medication; her expression looked as if it were stuck in one of twisted discomfort.

Another hiss from Cassian as he dug around in the bag - no disinfectant either. This wasn't looking good. Despite that, he still dug out the bandages, though he knew they wouldn't do as much good as they could if he had antiseptic.

"Headquarters is none of your business." Cassian echoed Jai's earlier words back to her; though her energy was progressively growing weaker and weaker, Jai still managed to narrow her eyes suspiciously at the man. She prayed that she wasn't about to be dragged off somewhere awful and alarming by this stranger and his damned droid.

"Hm, that's not very reassuring…" Jai's voice came out far quieter than she had intended. Cassian watched Jai closely as her head started to loll a little, and instinctively he reached for her, knowing that, although her falling asleep could be no problem, it could more likely lead to her body caving to the injury. He rested a hand firmly on the back of Jai's head and lifted it, meeting her lidded eyes.

"You stay awake as long as you can, you hear me?" Jai gave him a tired nod, "Tell me your name."

Silence lingered between them for a few long moments as they stared at one another, "… Jai."

Cassian gave a single, slight nod, "Jai, we're going to Yavin 4."

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Jai wasn't sure if she had passed out or if she had simply become too delirious with pain, because she came to realize she was lying in a hospital bed without any recollection as to how she got there. She awoke groggy and confused, though nonetheless she felt well and without pain despite knowing she had been shot in the stomach. For a long while, she simply lied on the cot, eyeing the room around here, listening to others moving around and chattering softly. She was in a hall that was obviously converted to be some kind of medical wing, with cots lining the wall on both her left and her right. The only other people in the room were, what Jai assumed to be, a medic and a patient at the far end of the room, the patient sitting on the furthest cot while in discussion with the medic.

After spending a few minutes observing the room and recalling the events that led her here, Jai sat up slowly, groaning slightly, though for the time being she was in far less pain than she had anticipated. The supposed doctor spotted her right away, and excused herself from the patient after a moment, approaching Jai who was rotating her head left and right to work out her neck muscles, hearing a chorus of satisfied pops go up her bones. Her eyes watched the medic's approach casually as the patient rose from his seat and slowly left the room.

"It's Jai, isn't it?" The second woman started once she came to a pause at the foot of the cot, the corner of her mouth pulling into a practiced, cordial smile, receiving a nod from Jai, who was now carefully stretching her body to test out the feeling in her abdomen, "I'm Miona. You remember why you're here?"

The question was asked as if Miona already knew the answer, as if she could tell Jai had a relatively clear memory of everything that went down on Cassian's ship. Despite that knowing tone, Jai gave a second nod anyway.

"Some guy and a robot got me shot, and they brought me back here." Jai's voice was scratchy from disuse. Miona accepted the response, hearing the attitude in Jai's tone and knowing it meant the other woman could remember a lot despite saying very little, "So, where I am, and what the hell is this place?"

Miona was, however, surprised by Jai's bluntness, not expecting the woman to jump into questions so quickly. Miona could still see in Jai's dark eyes and hear in her tone that she was tired, but she had enough sense about her to get to the important matters.

"Are you sure you don't want another few minutes?" the medic asked, though she already anticipated the response she was going to get - after working as the head medic for the Rebellion, she had become accustomed to patients waking, rising, and questioning quickly without regard for their condition. The pilots and spies Miona had dealt with through the years quite often sprang back quickly from treatment and didn't like to waste time. It looked as if this woman was going to do the same.

Another shake of Jai's head, "I don't need another few minutes."

Miona gave an accepting nod, taking a seat on the cot next to Jai's, "You bounce back like someone who's been in this position before."

"Well, I've never been shot," Jai turned to face Miona, moving her legs so they could hang over the edge of the bed. She felt the first noticeable jilt of pain in her abdomen, but it was nothing compared to what she felt aboard the U-Wing, "but a couple broken bones through the years toughen you up a little. How long was I out?"

"Nearly two days," Miona began to explain, "Captain Andor got you here as fast as he could. You're lucky, if it had been much longer the injury might have gotten too severe."

Captain Andor. So, now Jai had a name for the face, though the face in her memory was already a touch fuzzy.

"Lucky me." Jai muttered as her eyes scanned the room again curiously, "And where is here?"

Miona paused and considered - she spoke with Cassian when he dropped off the injured woman, and he hadn't given her any warnings about what she should or shouldn't say to Jai. All he asked was that the woman be supervised once she awoke, and that they return her to the Ring of Kafrene as soon as possible. He also mentioned that she was a thief and that they should be watchful of that habit, but he said nothing to suggest that Miona keep their whereabouts a secret from her.

"Yavin's fourth moon." Jai shook her head with raised brows, obviously unfamiliar with the planet, "You're in the Outer Rim."

Jai mouthed the word 'oh' in understanding, eyes becoming a little lighter with both interest and concern - she'd never been this far from home. In fact, she could count the number of times she'd left the Ring of Kafrene on one hand. To say she felt nervous was an understatement. The realization that Jai was on some far off moon surrounded by strangers that she didn't know if she could trust suddenly hit her full force, and her heartbeat picked up an unevenly anxious pace.

Jai's eyes widened with her worry, and her fingers clenched into nervous fists. Miona quickly spoke up, trying to ease the anxiety, "Jai, you're with the Rebellion."

Miona hoped that was the right thing to say. Neither she nor Cassian knew anything about this woman, and for all she knew her statement could potentially worry her patient even more.

Jai's brows knit together curiously, and lucky for them both her unease calmed a little. So, this Andor guy was a rebel - that was certainly better than some of the other ideas Jai had been speculating.

The Rebellion wasn't something Jai had ever paid much mind to, not when she was a kid and not much now. Growing up on the Ring of Kafrene, one became used to the presence of the Empire monitoring the trading post and it's connecting routes, and Jai was raised to worry about herself before worrying about the concerns and needs of a whole. Sure, she knew to be there for her siblings should they ever need, and she knew to help others if she saw that they deserved it, but Jai never thought about the concerns of the entire galaxy. The rest of the galaxy just wasn't on the minds of those from Kafrene, who had learned life wasn't so black and white, had learned to coexist with both the Empire presence and with the rebels that crossed their paths.

Jai was certainly not for the Empire, though she wasn't necessarily sided with the Rebellion either. Being someone that grew up learning the ways of crime made her relatively impartial to the conflict - either way, whether under Empire control or Rebellion restoration, she would still be a criminal.

However, she could appreciate the sentiment of the Rebellion. To Jai, though it sounded as if their cause was rather idealistic, it was something good nonetheless. Sometimes she had caught herself wondering what her life could have been if the Ring of Kafrene wasn't Empire controlled, if the Alliance had knocked them down years ago and rebuilt the galaxy. Would Jai still be a criminal today, perhaps locked behind bars? Or would her life have taken a different route? Jai liked to think that she was supposed to become a slicer no matter who was running the galaxy, but she did believe life wouldn't have been so damn hard on her if the Empire weren't around.

So maybe she was a little more partial to the Rebel Alliance after all.

Jai let out a low sigh, realizing she had a string of questions she wanted to ask, but knew she couldn't bombard Miona with them all at once, "I assume someone's gonna drag me back to Kafrene as soon as you give them the go-ahead?"

Miona nodded, "Captain Andor asked that we get you back as soon as possible."

Jai's lower lip jutted out as she slightly nodded, having expected the answer she was given. Her eyes drifted away from the medic and looked about the room thoughtfully, feeling some kind of tug-of-war going on in her mind. She was far from home and amidst something she couldn't have prepared herself for and yet… she didn't want to leave too soon. Perhaps she could blame it on her curiosity, that irrepressible desire to pull apart and understand every new thing that was presented to her, just as she always did with computers and scramble keys and every other electronic she'd encountered through the years. Here she was with an opportunity to see a rebel base, she couldn't just leave and go back to Kafrene without anything new in her slicing arsenal.

Jai licked her dry lips while turning her keen eyes back to Miona, "Can I look around before I have to go?"

The hesitation was immediately obvious in Miona's expression, "I don't think that's wise…"

"Because you don't know me and can't trust me." Jai said knowingly; after all, if she were a part of a resistance movement, she'd hesitate to let a thief snoop around as well. She gave another sigh through her nose, staring at Miona as she thought for a couple moments, "… My name's Jai'ren Tillian, I was raised in Kafrene for the last eighteen years, and I don't know where I came from before that. I'm one of the only good slicers from the colony… And I like a good glass of Merenzane Gold when I can afford it."

Her attempted humor seemed to work - Jai could see the way the corners of Miona's eyes crinkled in amusement, but she refrained from smiling any larger than a small, cordial smirk.

Jai briefly felt naked with how closely Miona was staring into her eyes, and she could tell that this medic was well-versed in studying people to determine their credibility. Jai stared back, being the type that didn't like to waver her attention whenever she was being watched so closely.

"I thought you were a thief?" Miona finally said, tilting her head curiously. Jai wasn't surprised by the question, though she hadn't expected it to be the first thing brought up.

The corner of her mouth pulled into a lazy grin, "Slicers are just glorified thieves - I've never had the knack for pickpocketing or stealing from shops, but I can transfer credits from anyone's accounts or get into their ships without them ever knowing."

Perhaps that wasn't something to brag about. Jai could see the uncertainty in Miona's eyes, and realized quickly that her statement could lead to a train of thought that involved speculation of what she could do if she got her hands on rebel information.

"Don't assume the worst of me." Jai defended, "I'm not concerned with your information or data, it doesn't serve me any good."

Miona crossed her arms, though not in some kind of authoritative or reprimanding way - unless Jai was mistaken, it looked as if there was almost something chaff and curious to the look the medic was giving her, "So, why slicer? Aren't there other kinds of job opportunities on Kafrene that aren't all criminal?"

Jai smiled, cocking her head while mirroring Miona's posture - she liked this woman. And it looked as if Miona maybe was beginning to like her, as well, "Why the Rebellion? That's technically criminal, too, last time I checked."

Miona could see that there was nothing accusatory in Jai's statement, that Jai wasn't actually expecting her to answer or defend herself. This slicer was sharp.

Jai's eyes continued to shine with levity as she uncrossed her arms and curled her hands around the edge of her cot, leaning forward slightly, "If you want any more of this life story, you'll have to buy me a drink first."

The slight smile pulled at Miona's lips again. Though she most certainly couldn't say she trusted Jai, given that she knew the woman a whole of ten minutes, she could at the very least say she saw the good in her. In all her years of serving the Rebellion and, prior to that, treating medical patients on her home planet, Miona learned how to hone her ability to read people's energy. And Jai's energy in this moment was genuine and without ill-intent.

"Look, Jai, I can't let you go wandering around this place," She started while rising to her feet, "But if I call someone up here to escort you, I need you to promise you won't touch a thing and you won't cause any problems."

"You'd trust the promise of a stranger?" Jai quipped, and after Miona stared at her for another moment the medic turned to begin walking toward her desk.

"I like to give people the benefit of the doubt." Miona answered simply, retrieving a commlink from her desk while shooting Jai another kind look. She then opened a cabinet behind her, revealing Jai's belongings that had been taken off of her upon her arrival, "So?"

Jai continued in good humor, "I don't tend to make promises, but for you I'll be on my best behavior."

Miona nearly laughed as she pulled out Jai's things, "I guess that's the best I'll get."

Jai slowly rose, assessing each movement carefully to ensure she'd be good on her feet - aside from some cramping pain in her abdomen, she felt relatively unharmed. Though, she did realize in that moment that she was a little hungry, but she suspected they'd given her some kind of nourishment while she was out cold - if she had been asleep for nearly two days, Jai knew her body would have demanded food immediately if they had simply left her without nourishment that entire time.

Miona and Jai met each other halfway, the medic watching Jai's movements carefully. She knew the other woman would be fine, after all she received proper attention from the medical team, but Miona's doctoral instinct and worry could never be completely turned off. Many people, after even a day of rest following bacta treatment, were up on their feet again quickly; Jai was fortunate to be one of those types and not someone that awoke feeling groggy or drained from the medical treatment. In all her years, Miona still could never predict who would wake up feeling spry and who would wake up feelings worse.

In one hand, Miona carried Jai's folded coat and all the odds-and-ends that had been stuffed in her pockets, which she held out for Jai to grab, and in the other she had the slicer's old clunky boots, which she set atop the nearest cot. Jai noticed her cap and goggles were missing, but she reckoned they had been forgotten back on Captain Andor's U-Wing.

As Jai went through her belongings carefully to ensure nothing was missing (she let out a nearly pathetically pleased sigh when she saw neither Andor nor Miona had confiscated her scramble key), Miona started speaking to someone over the commlink.

Within minutes, the women were joined by a young Twi'lek male who looked rather confused to have been called down to the medical wing. He introduced himself and told Jai to simply call him 'Abe,' receiving an agreeing nod from the woman, who replied by telling him to simply call her 'Jai.' When Miona explained that she wanted Abe to escort Jai around the base, his expression was questioning and unprepared - he wasn't exactly a babysitter, after all. But, he nonetheless agreed, always happy to do Miona a favor and thankful for the reprieve from sitting at a computer for hours on end.

As Jai and Abe stepped out of the medical wing, he began to explain where it was in relation to everything else on the level - just next door was the briefing room, and down at the opposite end of the hall was access to the barracks and the mess hall. None of that was of any particular interest to Jai, though she didn't immediately say so out loud. No, if she was going to get a tour of a rebel base, she wanted to see their ships and flight deck, wanted to see what kind of technology they had in their command room. But she let Abe take his time showing her around - he had a nearly unsure quality to the way he spoke, as if he wasn't used to talking as much as he was doing. Or maybe it was just odd for him to be giving a stranger a tour of Yavin 4. Whatever the case, Jai refrained from pressing about the things she really wanted to see, at least for now.

"So, Abe, what brought you to the Rebellion?" Jai decided to attempt some conversation as they exited the turbolift after spending about twenty minutes or so on another level; her eyes widened eagerly at the sight of computers and tech stations spread out in front of her.

Abe looked hesitant to answer as Jai turned her excited eyes toward him, and for a short while they were both silent as he considered his answer.

"I was raised in it," he started carefully, his gaze trailing over toward Jai, "My parents were both rebels; they died for the cause a couple years ago. I've stuck around to finish their fight."

'That's noble.' Jai thought. She wondered if she would have done the same if she lost her guardian to a cause like this.

"What do you do here?" She asked and Abe finally started leading her through the crowd of computers, the other rebels giving them nothing more than mere glances as they passed. Abe looked down at her with curiosity in his eyes, wondering if she actually cared or if she was simply filling the silence; he couldn't tell.

Abe came to a pause at an empty workstation, lifting his arm toward it, "I'm a technician, I help manage our communications."

Jai gave a slight smile - briefly, she suspected that maybe Miona had called up Abe because he had a similar skill to Jai and hoped that would be something they could connect over.

"Must be demanding - you do encryption and data recovery?" Jai suspected those were areas he had to be skilled in if he was taking care of rebel communications - she was sure their channels were heavily protected and monitored at all hours of the day.

Abe nodded, "Some Imperial decryption as well when it's brought to me." Though he was still unsure of Jai, he liked the opportunity to talk to someone else about what he did. Abe wasn't usually the guy that got much attention, no one in Signal Intelligence did. Despite the appreciation all the departments and organizations in the Rebellion got, sometimes he felt as if his particular area of expertise was occasionally overlooked. Or maybe it was just everyone overlooking Abe specifically.

"I do decryption, too, among other things." Jai shared with another grin, "Bet I could give some of you a run for your money."

The corners of Abe's eyes wrinkled, though not necessarily in amusement, but rather in curiosity - did he not recognize the humor in Jai's delivery? Just as she began to wonder if she should elaborate and explain herself, Abe spoke inquisitively.

"You think so?"

Was that challenge in his tone that Jai heard? As she gave a rascally smile, Abe allowed some amusement to cross his expression.

"Miona said you were a slicer." His tone suggested that he was suspicious of the woman, which was a fair judgment. Jai was used to codebreakers having a bad reputation, though she'd done nothing with her line of work to counter said prejudice.

"And a damn good one." She replied confidently, seeing the way Abe's eyes narrowed with intrigue and perhaps even eagerness, and the expression made Jai realize just how young he was. If she had to guess, he was even younger than her twenty-three years, barely an adult and already an accomplished technician. For a brief moment, Jai recognized her own brother's curiosity in this young twi'lek's eyes.

"Do you think you're better with computers than some of us?" Abe sounded mildly challenging, to which Jai continued to grin.

"I don't want to assume, but…" Did Abe just smile back at her? He was too quick to straighten out his expression for Jai to say for sure, but his eyes still looked on with intrigue.

Abe looked away as a thought struck him, his stare washing over the room full of rebels in consideration of whatever just crossed his mind. Jai watched him patiently until he finally looked back down at her.

"Why exactly are you here?" His question wasn't what Jai expected.

"It's a little… complicated, but I was shot, and brought here for medical attention." Abe studied Jai's face while digesting the answer.

"But why did you want to see the base? Miona didn't mention you were a part of the Rebellion."

"I'm not."

"Then why so curious?" Jai would hand it to Abe, he was intelligent, though she should have expected no less of a rebel technician.

"I'm not trying to collect information, if that's what you're assuming." Jai defended, though there was no malice in her tone.

Abe shook his head, "I didn't assume that."

Without any further elaboration, he walked around the workstation and rested his palms atop the back of it's chair, eyes looking down at the computer before turning back up to Jai, something mildly akin to mischief flashing in his eyes.

"Show me what you can do." Though some of his seriousness lingered, Abe's expression once again showed that youthful curiosity, the youthful desire for friendly rivalry.

Jai's brows rose, "Really? You think you can handle being beat by some slicer from a shitty colony?"

Again, Jai saw Abe nearly smile, though this time it was more obvious, "It's not a competition, I just want to see what this slicer can do."

Jai hummed curiously, but nonetheless rounded the desk, Abe pulling out the chair before stepping back. As Jai took a seat, she dug her scramble key out of one of her pockets.

This scramble key was her baby. Jai had slaved over perfecting it, customizing the device with various parts and equipment that she'd acquired through the years. The key had started out as a rather standard scrambler, but as Jai learned more and more about the art of slicing and the equipment involved, she was able to build up her key to not only open door locks, but to bypass alarms, unlock computers, and decipher encrypted data. Jai would willingly give up everything else she owned (which wasn't all that much) so long as it meant her scramble key was always safely tucked into her pocket.

Abe gave an appraising look to the scramble key, not immediately recognizing what it was, though once Jai slid the screen to the side away from the handle portion of the tool, giving the device the vague silhouette of a gun, he realized it was slicer equipment.

"I'm not trying to get into any trouble here," Jai started, spinning the chair around to look up at Abe, "so gimme something that won't turn the entire Rebellion against me."

Abe paused and considered - he didn't want to give her any basic tasks to test her skills, he wanted to see her struggle. He settled on telling Jai to find a classified file. He only gave her one bit of information to use at a starting point - the file had his name somewhere in it. He hadn't told Jai his full name, nor did he give any important dates or other information to go off of. He wasn't just testing her slicer abilities, he wanted to see how she would rationalize which file was the one he was looking for.

Jai managed that task with impressive speed. So, Abe gave her another one.

And then another.

And one more. Each increasing in difficulty. By the last two tasks Abe could see how Jai was struggling, yet she nonetheless eventually managed to complete what was asked of her.

Abe was impressed - she was certainly on par with many of the other techs here, and undeniably better than some as well. So, the Ring of Kafrene didn't only produce underwhelming and laughable criminals after all.

Despite the fact that Abe hadn't given Jai another task, she started tapping on her scramble key again, and yet, Abe had begun to let his guard down, not evening thinking to question what she was doing now. During the challenges he had given her, Abe had pulled over a second chair, sitting back in it comfortably as he watched her work.

"So, who's that Endor guy? Or was it Anders?" Jai questioned, not looking up from her key.

"Captain Andor, the one that brought you here?" Jai smirked mischievously at the reply.

"Yeah, that one." She replied, though it was noncommittal, as if she were already disengaging from the topic of the captain, continuing to work on her scramble key.

Abe paused at her expression, suspicious of it. And as he opened his mouth to question her, Jai glanced over with a satisfied look, tapping one last time on her scramble key before something changing on the screen of Abe's computer caught his eye.

They both looked at the screen, Jai pulling her seat closer and leaning in to look at the computer studiously, meanwhile Abe's eyes widened with worry. She pulled up files about Cassian Andor. Abe looked between Jai and the screen, momentarily too flabbergasted to say anything.

Cassian. Jai mulled over the name for a moment before she continued reading the profile and records the Rebellion had on him. He'd been one of the fastest to rise through the ranks, the youngest captain in the Alliance's Intelligence branch. Jai's expression furrowed in shock upon reading that he became a child soldier at six-years-old, engaging in his first combat during the Clone Wars. As she recalled what years the Clone Wars happened, she realized he had to be younger than he looked when they met aboard his U-Wing - Jai easily mistook him for a man in his thirties, but as she did the math now, she realized he was only about twenty-five. It must have been the way he carried himself or the knowing, mature sharpness of his eyes that made the man seem older beyond his years - who knew what he'd done and what he'd seen in his youth to age him so. He had the mind of someone who had to learn things the hard way, the attitude of a man that knew what he wanted and knew what he believed in. And Jai wasn't too proud to admit his rap sheet was impressive.

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Since his return to Yavin 4 nearly two days ago, Cassian had been far too preoccupied to even think about the woman he brought back with him; in fact, he had quickly forgotten about her as he got caught up in other tasks and duties. Aside from himself, another intelligence captain had returned from a mission about the same time that Cassian had, and they were both a part of a meeting with the various higher-ups to go over all the new intel that had been recently acquired. Another officer had questioned Cassian regarding his unexpected cargo, but once he gave everyone a brief explanation of what happened, the subject was dropped and forgotten.

Cassian and the other captain had gone to work trying to plan the next mission based off of new intel regarding a potential Empire database complex in the Mid Rim - they wanted to assemble a team to go check it out as soon as possible. The mission was to be headed by the second captain, Cassian already having another assignment lined up for himself that he had to prioritize. The team for the Mid Rim investigation had left on the second day of Cassian being back from his trip to the Ring of Kafrene.

Cassian hadn't thought to go to the medical wing to discuss Jai with Miona, hadn't thought to check in and see if she was still hanging around or if someone had already brought her back to the Ring. He was too caught up in his work to even spare a thought for the unplanned passenger from aboard his U-Wing.

Cassian was on his way from the hangar, where he had been checking up on repairs to his ship, to the command room in search of General Draven to go over some last minute data. He stepped out of the turbolift among the various control center technicians, inattentively excusing himself from an unimportant conversation with one of the techs as he started heading for the command room. Just as they usually did, the technicians scattered about barely spared Cassian a glance, too caught up in their own work. That was one thing Cassian always appreciated about the techs - they had laser focus that couldn't be rivaled. Where pilots and spies liked to strike up conversation and allowed their attention to be diverted far more easily when they weren't away on missions, those in Signal Intelligence and the other high-tech jobs rarely became distracted while they were at their desks.

Typically, Cassian was just as focused as the technicians once he was on this floor, as being up here in Command and Control meant business, and yet today Cassian allowed his gaze to roam the room as he walked through it. Maybe it was the noise, as everyone seemed to be louder than usual, or maybe it was some instinctive feeling, as if there was something to be seen that was out of place. Whatever the case, Cassian's gait slowed a little to allow his eyes to search the room, observing the various techs for seconds longer than he normally would.

Cassian suddenly felt as if a weight had dropped in his stomach when his eyes fell on a pair a few rows away from where he walked, the two hunched over a computer screen. He was shocked he had cared enough to even recognize the woman's face, but it was a good thing he did, because Jai had no business wandering the headquarters control room.

Cassian's eyes darkened as his brow furrowed, turning to begin marching in their direction. Jai had a mischievous smile on her face, one he wanted to wipe right off; beside her, the Twi'lek tech, whose name was escaping Cassian at this moment, looked at her with caution, saying something that appeared to be ignored by Jai. Cassian couldn't believe Miona had let down her guard and allowed Jai to leave the medical wing - he'd have to discuss this with the doctor later.

As Cassian approached, Abe finally took notice of him, inhaling sharply and jumping up from his seat quickly upon spotting the irate look on the captain's face. Jai sensed the distress in Abe's reaction, finally peeling her gaze away from the computer and up to her new company, before following his line of sight. She, too, inhaled through her nose as her eyes widened, feeling her posture stiffen, but she tried as best she could to hide her anxious surprise at seeing Cassian.

"What is she doing here?" Cassian's voice was sharp as he halted on the opposite side of the desk, clenched fist pressing down on it as he leaned forward. Despite Abe being the tallest of the three, somehow Cassian seemed like the largest person in the room, "Do you know that she is a thief and she was supposed to be brought back to her colony? What the hell is she doing on your computer?"

"Captain Andor, Doctor Tif asked me to show her around," Abe quickly defended under the intensity of Cassian's stare.

"Why?" his eyes rotated over to Jai, whose jaw was clenched tightly, doing her best to mask the concern in her black eyes.

"I couldn't leave without getting a tour." Jai quipped with defensive humor, also standing. Though Cassian still had a number of inches of height on her, Jai felt better to be facing him on her feet. Cassian dipped his head to inspect the computer, causing another wave of vexation to wash through him upon seeing his own named repeated multiple times on the display. His dark eyes met Jai's again.

"Are you trying to spy on me?" He spoke lowly, to which the corner of Jai's mouth pulled up despite the hostility between them.

"I just wanted to know more about my savior." Her tone was jeering, an obvious defense against stress and confrontation.

"Or you're a spy collecting intel." Cassian countered, sharply turning his head back to Abe, "And you're just sitting here letting her go through classified files like this? What kind of a fool are you?"

As Abe opened his mouth nervously to reply, Jai took a step in front of him, resting her fists atop the desk in a stance that mirrored the captain's, "Watch your tone."

Cassian was taken aback by her audacity to confront him that way and by her willingly to defend this rebel that she barely knew. His anger grew even hotter from her counter.

"I'd watch yours if I were you." He replied slowly.

"Captain Andor," Abe's tone was nervous, but he gulped loudly and pushed through it, "she's a slicer, I just wanted to see what she could do, I didn't mean for her to pull up any information on you. It was just in fun."

A slicer. Jai had neglected to mention that when she claimed herself to be a thief. Cassian's glare locked onto Abe with appalled shock.

"You let a slicer onto one of our computers?" His voice rose an octave, and by now a couple of the other technicians had taken notice of the confrontation going on, trying to slyly eavesdrop on it.

"Captain, she's talented." Abe seemed to grow a little braver, upset by the aggression aimed his way, "She's even better than some of us."

"That means nothing." Cassian hissed, whipping his harsh eyes back over to Jai. She met the glare head on, though Cassian could see that there was still a stressed uncertainty in her eyes; if he were someone else, he very well could have been fooled by this bluff, by this show of aggression and authority. But he wasn't someone else, and he could see right through her, could see that she had to muster up so much strength just to be glaring back into his eyes.

As Abe looked between the two, his nerves spiked high, he wasn't sure what came over him - maybe he was trying to diffuse the situation, maybe he had come to like Jai, maybe he was just desperate. Whatever the case, none of them were prepared for what he said next.

"I think she could be a good asset to us." Cassian and Jai's heads turned toward him at nearly the exact same time, Cassian prepared to argue while Jai looked with surprised curiosity, "Captain, we could use another slicer on the team, they bring a different skill set than the rest of the techs."

"Absolutely not." Cassian bit back.

"That's not up to you, though, is it?" Jai questioned harshly, eyeing the man again, drawing his attention back to her. Cassian inhaled deeply through his nose as his jaw tightened, his glare unblinking.

"You don't just join the Rebellion as some kind of cop out, we don't need people that don't care about the cause." He huffed with unamused mockery, "If this cause was important to you, you would have already said so. You don't get to use it as some means of surviving another day."

"And how do you know it's not important to me?" Jai questioned, though even she was asking herself that exact question. She didn't care about the Rebellion, did she? She had been content, albeit a little bored, back on the Ring of Kafrene, barely spared more than a thought to either the Empire or the rebels. Why now did she suddenly feel the need to argue, why now did she seem to convince herself that suddenly she cared about the matters of the galaxy at large?

Jai didn't like being challenged. Despite the fact that confrontations such as this one made her anxious, and she did her best to avoid them, a stubborn part of her couldn't help but try to stand her ground. Whether or not Cassian was right in his judgment of her didn't matter - what mattered was that he doubted her worth. And in this moment she wasn't going to simply back down and tolerate it.

"I do what I have to to survive, that's what you learn living on Kafrene. Just because I'm a slicer doesn't mean I lack morality. If anything, I value it more than the average person because of how I grew up. Don't think yourself better than me, Cassian Andor."

Cassian couldn't help but pause despite his instinct to keep arguing with her. He wouldn't say she made any valid point, nor would he admit she was right in any way, yet he nonetheless had a brief, brief moment of consideration toward her argument.

A part of Cassian knew he was being unreasonable. Perhaps it was his exhaustion or his pride or his stubbornness. The Rebellion had accepted people from all walks of life so long as they were willing to fight for the cause; Cassian had no reason to think Jai was any different from so many of the others among him.

It must have been personal, given that he had found her aboard his ship and attempting to steal; finding her here in the control room rifling through information on him didn't help her case either. Cassian was latched onto his upset from their first meeting, and that frustration combined with his current state of stress, giving way to an unnecessary level of anger in him.

Abe suggested that the discussion be brought before the council, before the Chancellor and the other heads of the Alliance. And Cassian knew Abe was right, knew that it was pointless to argue with this woman in the middle of the control center, knew that he just needed to step back and relax. He had far more important things to worry about than this woman.

As the trio came down from the high of their dispute, Cassian vowed that he wouldn't let himself trust the thieving slicer.

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Disdain [dis-deyn, dih-steyn]

verb

to look upon or treat with contempt; despise; scorn

to think unworthy of notice, response, etc.; consider beneath oneself

noun

a feeling of contempt for anything regarded as unworthy; haughty contempt; scorn

#cassian andor #cassian andor x original character #cassian andor x oc #cassian andor x reader #diego luna #rogue one #star wars #star wars fic #rogue one fic #rogue one fanfiction #pls let the tags work this time tumblr or i stg #ca #fics #fics*#saudade

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howlnikiforov · 5 years ago

Text

Illusion

Chapter Three: Hero

Pairing: San x Reader

Word Count: 1576

Summary: Running was never an easy thing to do, Especially when you’re the daughter of one of the largest mafias in the country.And Now you’ve gotten entangled with the enemy. What will you do now?

WARNINGS: description of violence, torture, cursing

Mature Rating

Illusion Masterlist

Turns out, you didn’t have enough time to come up with a reason to leave Jae because as soon as you walked into your apartment, you knew someone had paid a visit. The couch was in disarray, the few items you owned seemed to have found their way to the floor, with some broken, some still in one piece. Carefully stepping over everything, you walked towards your room.

Clothes littered the floor. Your bed was a complete mess, and on it, was the only picture you had of your parents. It was wrinkled from sticking it in pockets and bras, and faded from time. Whoever paid the unwelcome visit knew who you were, and was surely sent by your uncle. You needed to get out of there, before anyone could get to you.

You grabbed the picture off your bed and ran out of the room. You left everything as is, as nothing you possessed was important. It was all stuff you could buy again if you needed to, you had plenty of money despite what everyone thought.

Exiting the apartment complex, you slowed your run to a walk, not wanting to attract attention to yourself. Thankfully no one save for a few homeless drug addicts were on the street. At least, you hoped that’s all there was. You couldn’t tell if anyone was watching down the alleys you passed, but judging by your gut feeling, you knew nothing serious would happen right now. The club was just a couple minutes away anyway.

It sucked to have to start over again, but it wasn’t the worst thing in the world. With this you could leave Jae, get away from his abusiveness. Start rebuilding yourself and your mental state. You still had bruises from the other day, when he hit and kicked you for not wanting to move in with him. As terrible as it was, being found out by your uncle was not the worst thing in the world. You got to benefit from it this time. Only problem was, now you needed a place to stay. You’ll need to try to convince your manager to let you stay in the club for a bit.

You let out a breath as you walked through the staff entrance of the club. First thing you went to do was put your picture in your locker, where honestly you should’ve kept it from the beginning. then you went to find your manager, Woosung. Right now your only safe place was the club. You no longer had Jae to rely on. You found Woosung in his office, sitting at his desk doing something on the computer.

“Sir,” you tapped on the open door, alerting him of your presence, “may I speak to you?”

“Soojin, I thought you were off already?” he said, spinning around in his chair to face you.

“I was but uh, something at home came up.” you replied, scratching the back of your head. “Listen, can I spend a couple nights here in one of the storage rooms?”

“Why here? Don’t you have other places to go?”

“Nowhere near as safe as here.”

“What happened? And why should I let you stay here?”

“I can’t explain what happened right now, but this is the only place I can stay without getting hurt. I’ll work from open to close and I’ll also organize everything because I know it’s been awhile since anyone did that, and please sir please let me stay here.”

“Alright. I’ll let you stay on the condition that you do all the things you said. I’ll give you a week to find somewhere else.”

“Thank you so much sir. I promise I’ll find somewhere soon.”

“Just don’t make a mess of things.”

“I won’t.”

You left him alone, going into the storage room that was next door. It was a small room, storing random utilities with just enough space for you to lay down. Starting tomorrow, you’d be working from dusk to dawn, and after that you’d start cleaning up the back rooms.

The next five days went by as peacefully as they could. Sure working was getting tiring, but you could handle it. You’ve been searching for a cheap place to stay, and you were sure this one place you found would work out great, even if it meant longer walks home.

You left Jae. You didn’t even have a phone to be contacted with, having left that on the apartment floor. You could be traced with it, and being traced was the last thing you needed at this moment.

On the sixth day,however, things got a little difficult. Just as you turned around from the bar, you saw your ex walk into the club. You knew it would happen eventually, you were just hoping he’d come after you stopped staying at the club.

You tried to discreetly move towards the employees only area, but you kept bumping into people, slowing down. Eventually you gave up trying to get to the back and pushed yourself against the wall, grabbing the wrist of the closest passing male and pulling him to you. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders and stood on your tiptoes, leaning your face up to his.

“I’m terribly sorry, but I need to hide from someone.” you whispered as you moved your face incredibly close to his. Any onlooker would’ve thought you were kissing.

The poor guy kinda just froze, not really knowing what to do. You were tempted to actually kiss him, but you had a conscience and knew bad things could happen if you did.

“And why are you using me to hide?” he questioned, whispering as well.

“Because you were the closest person. I’m so sorry. I can get you free alcohol for the night, or anything else you might want as compensation. Please, just let me use you for a couple more minutes.” you replied.

“Free alcohol, sounds enticing. Who are you hiding from?” he cooperated with your request, putting his hands on your waste to make it more realistic.

“My ex. A situation arose and I left him. He’s not too happy about-”

“Sir, is everything alright?” Someone said, coming up to the two of you. The stranger immediately let go of you and stepped back. As the other man came closer, you saw it was Park Seonghwa. Your eyes widened as you turned to see San standing in front of you. You had no idea you had just tried to hide using the fucking Don. Oh shit you are so fucked.

“Yes, I was just talking to this worker here. Do me a favor and find the man who’s looking for a worker and show him the exit.” San replied, gesturing to the crowd behind them. Jae was drawing ever so near; he stood out like a fish out of water while trying to find you. Seonghwa walked toward him, said a couple words, then him by the shirt and began dragging him out, not saying another word. Jae protested, as expected, but Seonghwa never once lost his grip on him.

“I am so sorry Sir, I didn’t realize it was you who I had grabbed. I am terribly sorry for inconveniencing you Sir.” You bowed to him, not daring to look at him.

“You’ve got bruises on your legs. Is that from that man?” He asked.

“Yes Sir. I am sorry to bother you Sir.” You replied, still not looking at him.

“And that’s why you were trying to hide from him?” He continued.

“Yes Sir. Again, I am extremely sorry Sir.” You nodded.

“One last thing before I go, how do you know who I am?” At this you shot back up, staring at him wide eyed.

“I don’t-I don’t know-I don’t know who you are Sir.” You stammered out, knowing your lie was plain as day.

“You do seem familiar…” he said thoughtfully, coming closer to your face. He studied your face, trying to place why you seem so familiar. You watched in fear as you saw him start to recognize you. “You’ve dyed your hair, and I assume you’ve used makeup to change your face up. But it is you, isn’t y/n?”

Oh fuck it, your cover was blown. It was bound to happen someday. Of course you couldn’t outsmart Choi San. Now you had to play your cards carefully so that you weren’t murdered or returned to your uncle. “And if I am?” You raised an eyebrow, squaring your shoulders.

“Well, if you are really Y/n, then you’ve found yourself in quite the awkward position, haven’t you?” He raised an eyebrow in return, putting his hands behind his back, walking away leaving you to ponder his words.

You weren’t sure what this meant. Surely you weren’t going to be let go just like that. He had to be planning something. He was your enemy after all.

You assumed that for now, you needed to get back to work. He wouldn’t risk causing a distraction like kidnapping in public. That’d be too noticeable. No, he’d get you at a time where you least expect it. He won’t likely get you tonight.

However, by the end of your shift you were proven wrong. Just as you were heading to the small closet you used as a temporary room, a cloth was put over your face and a sweet smell filled your nose. Before you knew it, you blacked out.

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blurglesmurfklaine · 5 years ago

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Cornelia Street (3/?)

A/N: oh my god they were quarantined

yes. It’s one of those fics.

AU, obvs

I’m posting as I go and idk how many parts this is going to be, likely won’t be very long but I literally don’t know what I’m doing and should i be starting yet another WIP? definitely not but fuck it lets fucking go

Title is from T-swizzles Lover album, I’m OBSESSED

Summary: Three years ago, Kurt and Blaine went on a disaster of a date and never quite got off on the right foot. Now, just before they graduate from NYADA, there’s a national outbreak and they’re both self-quarantined in a mutual friend’s apartment.

Read On AO3

On Tumblr: Part 1, Part 2

Part 3

Kurt has the art of avoiding someone he’s sharing a confined space with down to an art. Blaine stays in the bedroom most of the time and the morning stiffness in Kurt’s joints from sleeping on the couch is well worth not having to interact with his roomie. He spends the first few days decompressing from the stressload of his schoolwork, social media, extra pampering, the usual.

This is enough to keep him entertained for a few days, but the first few hours of day four drag on like molasses.

Kurt lies on the couch, flippantly scrolling and cycling through the same social media apps over and over again until he’s seen every tweet, every snapchat story, and every. Single. Facebook. Post.

This routine is fine when he has a full and busy life, but it can’t be all he does. He’s going stir crazy.

It’s this boredom, he tells himself, that motivates him to knock on the bedroom door. Because he’s a generally social person, and he’s certain that even the likes of Blaine Anderson could offer him some temporary entertainment.

“The living room TV doesn’t come with Netflix,” he explains when a confused Blaine opens the door. “And my social media feed is dry, so you can either let me in on whatever you’re watching, or you can deal with the consequences of not doing that. I should let you know, I have a brother, and I can be very annoying.”

Blaine hums, looking Kurt up and down. “I also have a brother who can be ridiculously annoying, so I suppose I can’t risk it.” He speaks carefully, but Kurt has a sneaking suspicion that Blaine’s just as out of his mind bored as he is and would appreciate the company.

He opens the door wider to allow Kurt passage in the room.

Blaine moves towards the bed, where he’s clearly made some sort of quarantine nest for himself—the blanket is puddled near the head of the bed where Blaine was lying, a few books scattered by where his feet would have been, a bowl of half eaten ramen abandoned on the nightstand.

Kurt… doesn’t quite know what to do. He starts for the computer chair by the desk, but Blaine waves him away. “You can just sit next to me,” he says dismissively. “That’s Sam’s gaming chair, and it is just absolutely hell on your lower back. I wouldn’t wish it on my worst enemy.”

He raises an eyebrow, crosses his arms. “Is that what I am to you?”

Blaine looks at him like he’s genuinely surprised by the remark. “What? I… No. Not at all.”

“Really?”

“Look, Kurt, I know we have a weird history and we don’t particularly get along, but I don’t hate you.”

Kurt eyes Blaine up and down for a second, assessing him for any signs of deceit. He finds none, pulls the cover back and slides underneath it. “What are you watching?”

“Let It Snow. It’s a Netflix Original. It just started, do you want me to rewind it?”

Kurt waves a hand. “No, that’s fine.”

On screen, two teens are trudging through the snow towards a building with AFFLE TOWN on top of it.

“If the train made you feel real, Waffle Town is gonna blow your mind.”

In the movie, the cheerleader character kisses the other main red-headed girl in the bathroom, but acts like nothing happened when the rest of the squad comes in.

“Oh, she’s totally not out of the closet yet.” Blaine murmurs.

“What? But she said she was, at the beginning.”

“I mean, yeah, but there has to be some sort of twist.”

“Hm. Seems like you have this movie all figured out.”

“I mean, movies like this are supposed to be predictable on some level. Let’s be real, we watch these movies because no matter what happens, no matter what misunderstanding there is, you know everything’s going to be okay.” He looks at Kurt, and Kurt’s heart does not skip a beat. But objectively speaking, Blaine is ridiculously adorable, and maybe he has a teeny tiny reaction when Blaine says, “You know that the right people will end up with each other.”

About twenty more minutes in, all the different storylines have been introduced and Kurt realizes why this movie seems so familiar. “Oh my god,” he says. “This is totally just a teen version of Love, Actually.”

Blaine chuckles. “Oh my gosh, you’re right!”

They both laugh out loud at the end, when the crappy best friend realizes she’s been crappy and gives the red-head a little speech.

“If you and Beyonce were trapped in a house that was on fire and I could only save one of you... I would let Beyonce die.”

The movie draws to a close and Blaine leans back against the pillows, obviously satisfied with the ending. “See? Happy endings rule. They’re a little cheesy, a little predictable, but that’s what I like about them.”

Kurt smiles and looks over at Blaine. “Yeah, me, too.”

When the movie ends, Blaine excuses himself for a moment to go grab a drink from the kitchen.

When he finishes his glass of water, Blaine heads to the hall closet, clamoring around for that stash of board games Sam keeps for game nights. He finally finds it and grins a bit, pulling out Battleship. This should keep them entertained for a while.

He stops dead in his tracks, just outside the room, when he hears Kurt in a heated conversation on the phone. “No, Adam. I meant it, this time. We’re over… I know there’s a national crisis right now, that’s why I’m at—don’t… stop… will you let me—! You always do this! Stop talking over me! Oh my god, if you’re not going to listen, then this conversation is over.”

Blaine silently backtracks a few steps when he hears Kurt sniff, then after a minute or two, starts walking again, making sure to slap his bare feet against the hardwood floor so that Kurt hears him coming and can take a second to compose himself. He rattles the battleship game for extra measure and says loudly down the hallway, “So I found this battleship game in the closet, thought it might be a good way to pass the time.”

Kurt still looks a little lost in thought by the time Blaine is back in the bedroom. “Uh, sure, yeah. Why not,” he mindlessly agrees.

It takes them a few minutes to set everything up and figure out logistics. As a gesture of goodwill, Blaine insists that they both sit on the bed for this activity. He still feels a little bad for… whatever Kurt is going through right now.

They’re well into the game when Blaine decides to tug a little more on the thread that will unravel Kurt Hummel.

“J1,” Kurt grumbles.

“Miss,” Blaine responds. “So… I thought I might’ve heard you on the phone earlier,” he says, and Kurt’s hard gaze pierces through him. “Everything okay?”

“Why do you care?” Kurt snaps.

Blaine felt his own defenses rising up. “We are going to be stuck with each other for days on end, so excuse me for trying to be a decent person.”

Kurt de-bristles himself. “Sorry,” he murmurs, shaking his head. “Sorry… I um… my ex is trying to get me to go stay with him. But I know he’s just going to rope me into getting back together again and I just… I’m done. Sorry,” he repeats, lifting his knees and wrapping his arms around them. “I don’t know why I’m telling you all of this.”

“It’s okay,” Blaine says, mouth twitching. “We’ll chalk it up to social distancing. Speaking of, I know why I’m self-quarantined, why are you? If you don’t mind me asking. Why not go home like everyone else? B4.”

Kurt sighs. “Hit. My dad had a heart attack back in high school. Left him in a coma for a while. Then he had a cancer scare last year, so his immune system isn’t the strongest. I can’t risk taking anything back to him. J2.”

“I’m sorry to hear that… Hit.”

“Thanks. What about you?”

“C4. Kind of the same thing. My aunt has lived with us pretty much my entire life. She's pretty much my second mom. She’s diabetic, and a year ago she needed a kidney transplant. If she even gets so much as a cold, it could mess with her anti-rejection meds.”

He doesn’t get a response for a while and Blaine looks up to find Kurt staring at him. The other boy blinks, like he himself has just noticed his fixed gaze.

“Um, hit…” he says, looking back down at his board. Blaine thinks he might see a hint of a blush crawling up Kurt’s neck. “J3.”

“Miss.”

“Miss? That’s impossible. J1 and I2 were misses.” Kurt snaps his head up, narrowing his eyes at Blaine, but there’s a playful light that wasn’t there earlier. “Are you cheating?”

“Maybe,” he teases, evading the question because it actually is a hit. In fact, it’s the winning move. “Maybe I just don’t want this game to be over so soon.”

For a moment, Blaine wonders if his comment was too close to flirtatious territory. But then he thinks, so what if it is? There was a reason he agreed to be set up with Kurt freshman year, and after half a conversation with him, Blaine is definitely intrigued, to say the least.

Kurt’s lips curl up into a smile. “Alright… I don’t want to go back to being bored either, so how about this? We each move one of the small pieces and the first one to get a hit wins.”

Blaine agrees, taking one of his small pieces off and moving it.

“I’ll start us off,” Kurt says. “You mentioned you had a brother. What about the rest of your family? A6.”

“Miss. I’ve only got the one, thank god, because he is a handful. My mom is a total goofball, gives the best advice. I love her to death. My dad is the essence of I hate everything except my family. He can be a total grump sometimes, but I know he’d do anything for us. G7. You?”

“Miss. I mentioned my dad. My mom passed away when I was eight.” Blaine’s eyes glaze over with sympathy. “She was… she was really something. I miss her everyday, but I’m also really grateful that my dad found someone as wonderful as my step-mom. They got married my Junior year of high school, and I got a brother out of it. He drives me up the wall sometimes, but I love the big lug.”

Kurt tells Blaine all about the ridiculousness of his high school show choir, his relationship with his dad, and the bullying he endured in high school. In turn, Blaine confesses some insecurities he has about being a musical theatre major, about how he absolutely adores his kooky aunt, and his love for harry potter.

The game takes longer to finish than it should since occasionally they get so deep into conversation that they forget about playing the game. Eventually, it’s nearly two am, and Kurt decides to call it quits.

“Alright,” he says. “I’m calling it. I’m never gonna fund that darn ship of yours.”

“You’re right about that,” Blaine agrees. Kurt had actually hit his piece about three turns in, but again… Blaine wasn’t ready to say goodnight yet.

Kurt snorts out a laugh and rises from the he’d, stretching his arms high over his head. “I’ll see you in the morning,” he groans.

Blaine has no idea what compels him to say this, but he does. “You don’t have to sleep in the living room.”

Kurt freezes and gives Blaine a look.

“I just mean…” he swallows. “I’ve had the bed enough nights. Time to pay my dues. I can take the couch tonight.”

He hops off the bed before Kurt even has the chance to protest.

“I… um, thanks,” he gives Blaine a shy smile.

“I’ll see you in the morning, Kurt.” He returns the smile—more than just a nicety at this point—and turns around to head to the living room.

He can’t keep the dazed grin off his face when he pulls out his phone to text Sam.

Part 4

#klaine #glee #kurt hummel #blaine anderson #wow look at me im writing!#i honestly hate the format of tumblr but its too late at this point lmaoooo

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comedianrobotmaster · 5 years ago

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Quickman Design Sketches

Here are some sketches of Quickman (DWN-012)

(Again, sorry if it looks a bit rough, I’ll later re-draw this on my digital drawing pad along with color it for more clarity of details.)

My interpretation of these re-designs will mainly try to be realistic and practical with some added changes to the characters; so lets get into more detail with Quickman and the specific features he has, along with a character bio.

Since Quickman was the last of Dr. Wily’s first eight robot masters made and was unfortunately sent away mere minutes after being first booted up- He has the least amount of experience in combat and his fighting style can be best described as make-shift; Despite this he is still considered a highly dangerous adversary because he simply might be too fast to hit and overwhelm his opponent with rapid attacks. The curvature of Qucikman’s armor was specifically designed to reduce the drag of air particles as well as the extreme pressurized forces of suddenly accelerating faster then light speed. The metal frame and armor plates are made of a special carbon-fiber interlaced chemically with aluminum-steel alloys to allow him to move around faster and easier with a sophisticated lighter set of armor. Quickman’s body frame was made to be light and efficient at running and leaping horizontally with extra compressed hydraulics built into both of his legs and extra flexible knee joints; as a result of over specialization, he is poorly coordinated when it comes to jumping upwards, so he has a set of four semi-flexible compressed jets on the back portion of his armor to help him reach higher heights when he jumps.His infamous speed boost abilities come from a experimental engine that incorporates a compressed tube full of dark-matter, the reaction of the engine sending electrical impulses through the tube causes a temporary time warp around his close vicinity that allows him to move at any given direction while his surroundings remain practically frozen in time; over time, he learns how to better control these special abilities and can maneuver though complex areas while having his speed boost activated. Due to the dark matter engine generating unpredictable levels of energy outputs, the jets on his back portion of his armor also act as accelerated/boosted exhaust vents to quickly maintain a stable temperature, as well as a signature ‘v’ shaped intake vents at the front of his armor. The exhaust from his engine is so radioactive, unstable and potent that a chemical reaction occurs when it hits open air, jets of condensed bright blue plasma rush out- and he later learns how to reverse the intake vent and use it as a effective weapon for close combat. Quickman’s helmet resembles that of a modified cycling helmet due to it having to be shaped aerodynamically for less potentially hazardous air particle drag, and prominently features his signature golden boomerang crest; he has a optional face plate (with decorative stripes vaguely resembling the facial pattern on a cheetah) that covers his lower face from view, but typically he chooses not to wear this because he claims that its uncomfortable. Quickman’s personality can best be described as nervous, shy and milquetoast due to a unhealthy combination of Dr. Wily, seeing the potential danger he might be if he was left unchecked, programmed him with more obedient and submissive traits; and then having to have dealt with relentless ridicule from his siblings and creator after his unsuccessful fight with Megaman. Eventually, Quickman gets past these traits and slowly changes into a competitive and arrogant stand-offish robot; but still retains his sensitive side somewhat to people he knows.

Each of Quickman’s forearms include a mini condensed engine that exhibit similar traits to the main one in his chest except with a few added features; The engine vibrates a smaller tube of condensed dark matter and a unstable reaction occurs around his forearm, time warps and a make-shift force field emanates from his arms. There are also exhaust vents that shoot out jets of blue plasma around the pieces of tech on his forearms. A mini teleportation device similar to Crashman’s is also embedded into his tech- allowing him to teleport boomerangs (Small and or Large) into his grasp ready for throwing at his unsuspecting opponents. His elbow features a sharp diamond shaped piece of metal used for elbowing opponents weak points. Quickman, when he first used his throwing boomerangs, has absolutely terrible at aiming, so he temperately improvised and used them as combative knives/short swards. He has a alternate pair of gloves that feature bladed knuckles, but he usually does not wear this under normal circumstances because he personally thinks it looks too aggressive.

Quickman’s boots are made highly specialized to handle the repeated high velocity forces of his speed boost assisted running. The overall shape of the lower portion resembles running shoes; It was carefully designed to allow more flexibility and movement so that he does not trip on rough uneven terrain while using his speed boost. The heel of the boot is hollow and features a stiff metal plate that absorbs the repeated pressure from each step he takes during his speed boost. The inner portion also features a wide jet that acts as a exhaust vent and helps boost him upwards for jumping; typically he does not turn these on while running at high speeds because it poses a real risk of him quickly loosing his footing on the ground and subsequently crashing into whatever he was trying to jump over.

I’m sorry for being so absent from here for so long, life got in the way with moving, setting up a new computer, and I recently started another semester at college with full time classes, ugh. I posted this because I managed to get these sketches done before it got too hectic here...Next I might try to refine those Elecman design sketches I have and post that (Which might take quite a while) I hope you enjoy :)

#megaman #rockman #megaman quickman #quickman #redesign #realistic #practical #robots #capcom #robotics #plasma #time warp #worth a try with these tags #sketch #design

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ambereyesandwine · 5 years ago

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We’ve Got Soul: Chapter 2

WC: 2416

Warnings: Cursing, Sass, that’s all for this one

Beta’d By: @teaspacebar

Notes: I don’t actually know much of anything about spray paint and graffiti, so if I sound like an idiot, whoops. This part is 90% Gavin and Fantasia being assholes to each other while they work on a case. Markus is not in this one, but I assure you he will be back shortly :)

Chapter 2:

July 11, 2036

7:24 A.M.

Fantasia arrived at the police station to find the parking lot was mostly empty except for a section of five parking spots against the wall that had been blocked off with cones and a ‘Do Not Cross’ projection line. “That must be the space I asked for.” She entered the station and showed her temporary access badge to the reception android so she could go straight into the back. The lights were on, but the only occupied desk was that of Captain Fowler. She knocked lightly on his open door, “Captain?”

“Miss Jacobs, good morning.” He didn’t look up from his computer. “I had the workspace you requested sectioned off this morning.”

“I saw that, thank you.” A pause filled the room. “Did you want me to get started?”

He made eye contact with her. “Yes,” he stated with a finality.

“Yeah, alright.” Fantasia nodded to herself as she made her way back outside. “That was kind of a dumb question.” When she got out to the parking lot, Fantasia set her bag down on the concrete and pulled her paint cans out. “Okay, it’s been a little while since I did this.” She looked at the reference photos again, put in her earbuds, and started painting. She had six of the same symbol up on the wall when she was interrupted by a figure at the edge of her vision. She paused her music.

“Hey, how’s it going?” Officer Miller asked with a smile.

“It’s going,” she sighed. “I don’t think these were all painted by the same person.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well look,” Fantasia grabbed the photos of the graffiti that had been left at each of the crime scenes and fanned them out. “I got a couple of them to match the photos you guys gave me, and-”

“Talking about my case without me?” Detective Reed strode up with an unwarranted amount of confidence.

“Ugh.”

Officer Miller intercepted, “Fantasia was just telling me that she doesn’t think it’s one person.”

“Oh, yeah? And what lead you to that conclusion, smarty-pants? It’s the same tag.” He cocked his head expectantly at her.

“This one was painted by somebody left-handed; it’s heavy on one side” She flipped to the next one, “This one was done by somebody who doesn’t drag the can fast enough; the paint is dripping. This one,” She pulled another, “used something as a shield so there’d be clean lines even though the paint is so thin, and this one, was the person who designed the tag; it’s the only one that doesn’t have clear hesitation or mistakes in the paint movement.” She shoved the stack of photos into Detective Reed’s chest. “One tag, four artists, smarty-pants.” She stared him down, and Reed bitterly returned the look until Officer Miller broke the silence.

“We should go report this to Fowler.” He said it timidly, like he was afraid they’d turn on him if he spoke too loudly.

“Thank you, Chris, I’ll get right on that.” Detective Reed spoke through his teeth.

Officer Miller hurriedly walked back into the station, leaving Detective Reed and Fantasia to stare each other down.

“You plan on reporting to your captain anytime soon?” Fantasia cocked her head at Reed.

His eyes narrowed. “You better watch the attitude, or-”

“Or what?” Fantasia raised her eyebrows and extended her arms outward, “I’m the expert the DPD called in. You can’t touch me.”

“Keep it up, I’ll figure something out,” He looked enraged.

Detective Reed turned and walked back into the station while Fantasia stayed outside for a moment to clean up her paint. When she went inside, Fantasia heard Detective Reed talking to Captain Fowler about her findings. She sat down in her usual chair by Reed’s desk and pulled the stray pencil and stack of sticky-notes over to her.

“He shouldn’t miss these too much.” Fantasia started to doodle angry chibi versions of Detective Reed on each of them, sticking them to his desk wherever she could fit them. When he finally returned, there were only three of the neon-colored squares left in plain sight.

“What the hell is all over my desk?” Reed questioned.

Fantasia shrugged, “More doodles of you being a prick. I got bored.”

“It still isn’t funny.” He crumpled them up and threw the drawings into the trash.

“It’s still hilarious.” She stated with certainty.

“Will you quit bickering and just get your shit done?” Lieutenant Anderson called out from his desk. “Jesus, it’s like every time you two are in the same room, the whole world gets a migraine.”

Detective Reed rolled his eyes and grumbled to himself, which made Fantasia snicker.

“I’m gonna start rerunning through footage from the scenes now that we know we’re not looking for the same guy at all of them.” He said it more to himself than to her.

“Does that mean I’m good to go?” Fantasia’s tone was laced with indifference and boredom.

He huffed, amused, “No. You can sit there and stare at these pictures of spray paint until you can tell me more about ‘em.” Detective Reed tossed the stack over to Fantasia with a ‘get on it’ hand gesture.

Fantasia only sighed before spreading out the stack and looking at each of them more closely. After a few moments of scanning over them again, she quirked her head as a realization hit her. “Reed.”

“What now?” He groaned.

“Do you want me to tell you or do you want to keep being a dick?”

“What is it?” He managed a slightly calmer tone.

“I’ve seen this before.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Or at least a version of it, hang on.” Fantasia pulled her phone from her pocket and pulled up her photos, scrolling until she found the one she was looking for. “I knew it was familiar. I did a piece over top of one of these, look.” She pointed to the photo where the tag was partially visible under her work.

Detective Reed squinted at the screen. “I know this one.”

“Yeah, that’s cause this is the piece you arrested me for the first time.”

He laughed, “Oh, yeah. So?”

“So, I know who painted it, or at least who they belong to.”

“What does that mean?”

“There’s a gang downtown that uses a tagging system for initiation. It used to be a dragon or some shit, but they just changed leadership. This one is a kid…” She trailed off in thought and snapped to herself a couple of times “Joseph Palmer.” She leaned back, satisfied with herself. “This was his tag before he was in the gang, he must have taken over.”

“Wow,” He looked absolutely taken away by her answer.

“What?”

“Nothing, it’s just the first time I’ve ever heard you say something useful.”

Fantasia’s fists clenched and her nostrils flared, but she closed her eyes and took a deep breath.

“I’ll be back in a minute, try not to miss me too much.” As he rose from his chair, Detective Reed gave a wink and finger guns before he walked away.

Fantasia sat quietly for a few minutes until Detective Reed returned. “Well?”

Reed grabbed his jacket from the back of his desk chair. “We got a hit, and we’re gonna go get him.”

“We are?” Confusion clouded her tone.

Reed’s features contorted as if he’d heard the dumbest thing in the world. “No, stupid, we are.” He gestured to himself and Officer Miller. “You’re not a cop, you don’t count when I saw ‘we.’”

She rolled her eyes.

“You hang out here, we won’t be gone very long, and we might still need your help.”

Her eyebrows shot up. “I’m sorry, what was that?”

“What?”

“Did you just say you need me, Detective Reed?” She smiled cunningly at him.

He scoffed, “No, I said you’re not allowed to leave. We’ll be back in a little bit. Stay here.” Officer Miller followed him out of the station, leaving Fantasia alone at Reed’s desk.

After she was sure he was gone, Fantasia moved to sit in Detective Reed’s chair behind his desk. She checked her phone to find a text from Carl that read ‘How’s the “not in trouble” thing going?’

She laughed to herself. ‘It’s going well. I’m pretty sure we know who’s been leaving the graffiti tags.’

‘Oh yeah? Maybe you should be a detective instead of a painter.’

‘Are you firing me?’

‘Only if you miss another dinner with less than two hours of notice.’

Fantasia audibly scoffed. ‘Not my fault. Besides, wouldn’t you rather me be called ‘The Expert’ for the first time than be ‘The Arrested’ for the fourth time?’

‘Very true, at least you aren’t in handcuffs this time.’ The text came through immediately followed by an upside-down smiley-face emoji.

‘Rude.’

‘Get back to work, I’m sure you have things to do.’

Fantasia shook her head as she put her phone down and looked around to see if she could find where the smell of coffee was coming from.

“Lieutenant Anderson?” She called out.

“Hmm?”

“Where might one find coffee in this place?”

He barely looked up from his computer when he replied, “Down that hall and to the right, help yourself.”

“Awesome, thank you.”

When Fantasia returned to the desk area, steaming cup in hand, Lieutenant Anderson called her over.

“Yes, sir?”

“Please don’t call me that.”

She took a small sip of her coffee before asking, “What would you prefer me to call you then?”

“Just Hank is fine. Take a seat.” He gestured to the chair by his desk.

“What’s up?” She sat down with one foot tucked under her.

Hank looked her over once and saw the inside of her cup. “I have some- wait, is that straight black coffee?”

“Yeah, why?”

He looked surprised for a moment before shaking his head and getting back on his previous train of thought. “I have some questions for you.”

“I will answer to the best of my ability. What’s on your mind?”

“What do you do for a living?”

“I’m a painter.”

Hank squinted, “Actually a painter, or you just like to think you are?”

A laugh left Fantasia’s chest. “No, I’m a real painter. I have an apprenticeship with Carl Manfred.”

“Oh, he’s pretty good.” He nodded to himself for a moment. “Then why do you do graffiti?”

Fantasia sighed lightly, “I don’t anymore. I had to quit; It was part of my deal to get the apprenticeship.”

“Oh, that’s why we hadn’t seen you in a while. A couple of us started taking bets that Reed had buried your body somewhere.”

“Nah, he couldn’t kill me. I’m the closest thing he has to a friend.”

Hank chuckled and the two enjoyed a moment of quiet before returning to their own space and tasks. Fantasia pulled some paper from her bag to doodle and found herself drawing Detective Reed. She occasionally sipped on her coffee as she drew his resting grumpy face, until there was a commotion at the door of the station.

Reed waltzed in with one Joseph Palmer in handcuffs and escorted him directly to the holding cells around the corner. They were quickly followed into the room by Officer Miller, carrying drive-thru bags.

“So, I see you got him.” Fantasia commented as Officer Miller approached Detective Reed’s desk.

He had a smile on his face. “Yeah, we did. You were right about it being more than one though.”

“Oh, yeah?” She did her best to look surprised as she took another sip of her coffee. “I’m shocked.”

“Hey. Tiny terrorist.” Reed called out as he walked over to his desk. “I found this,” He pulled a crumpled sticky-note from his pocket, “in my jacket. How many more are there?”

“Several.” She thought for a moment. “At least 20 more.”

“Where?”

“It’s a surprise.”

He gave her a glare. “Get out of my chair.”

“Gladly.” Fantasia rose from the seat and sat in her usual place, sliding her notebook across the desk.

Reed caught a glimpse of what she was working on. “What was that?”

“Absolutely none of your business, is what it was.”

A dissatisfied hum escaped him. “That’s for you,” He said with a gesture to one of the bags Chris had left behind.

“You brought me food?” She quirked her head. “Is it poison?”

“What? No. It’s a burger.” He shook his head as he started into his own food. “Eat. I know you’ve been here for hours.” He took a bite slightly bigger than he should have and pretended it was fine.

“Wow. That’s the sweetest thing you’ve ever said to me.” Upon receiving a middle finger and fake smile from him as a response, Fantasia threw a napkin at Detective Reed. “Gross, you have sauce dripping down your face.”

“Leave me and my sauce alone.” He wiped his face with the napkin and continued to eat.

The two ate in relative quiet while Detective Reed filled out paperwork and Fantasia continued her drawing, sitting with her knees propped up in front of her on her chair.

“You’re good to leave if you want.” When he didn’t get a response, Detective Reed peaked out from behind his computer to look over to Fantasia, who was hunched over her sketchbook, scribbling away. “What are you doing?”

“I’m drawing.”

“Can I see?”

“No, you always hate my drawings.” She clutched the book to her chest.

“No, I hate it when you draw me as an angry cartoon.”

“Is there any other way to draw you?”

Detective Reed scoffed.

“Thank you for lunch.” Fantasia’s tone was hushed.

“What was that?”

“You heard me.”

He smirked, “I don’t think I did, would you repeat that?”

“I said I prefer chicken nuggets,” she said as she stood up from her chair, “just for future reference.”

“Oh, good to know, for the never again that I buy you food.”

Fantasia made an affirmative hum, “Yeah.” She shook her head with a small smile.

“You know, if I liked you more, I might say good job today, and thank you for help.” Reed turned back to his computer. “Good thing I don’t like you.”

She snorted. “Yeah, otherwise I might’ve told you to have a good rest of your day.” Fantasia ripped the finished drawing of Detective Reed out of her sketchbook and slid it across his desk. “See you around, Detective,” was all she said as Fantasia left the police station to head home.

#markus x oc #dbh #detroit become human #markus #gavin reed #dbh markus #dbh gavin #detroid become human #rk200 #gavin reed x oc #We've Got Soul

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twistednuns · 5 years ago

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February 2020

I managed to use my iPad as a second monitor for my computer. So tech savvy. Yay me!

Joking about developing a sex-based cardio programme with Manu. Powerfucking! Might help against aggression as well.

A late night phone call with Tom. Not saying much.

Making a huge pot of my grandmother’s signature veggie stew.

More Bon Appétit test kitchen videos. Chris recreating tacos. Claire making Ben&Jerry’s. Priya making her mum’s Indian curries.

Writing a letter to Lena. Drawing upside down bats (which makes them look like they’re having a wicked dance-off). Just the act of writing. I thoroughly enjoy looking at my handwriting.

Using the Salted Coconut handscrub by Lush. Especially now that I wash my hands so often when we’re working with clay at school. I feel like the peeling triggers some pressure points on my palms.

That Saturday productivity high. Cooking and preparing heaps of stuff, cleaning the windows, doing laundry.

Painting my nails like an expressionist artist.

Some portrait studies. Accidentally drawing Sirius Black.

Being really motivated to improve my Spanish. Working with Lorena, the Duolingo app and even starting my own grammar/vocabulary book.

This ultra quirky ASMR video. Also: watching videos with Erin an her boyfriend Chris. It’s amazing how well they work together. How you can almost feel their connection, how similar they are.

Carrot cake oats.

Seeing the The Darkness live again, this time with Margit. Justin’s outfit and personality, singing along, especially to Time of my Life, the band’s traditional first song after the show.

Meeting Chris. Having a Bramblette cocktail at Pusser’s. I like that place. Feels very old-timey with a rowing boat right under the ceiling. We made out in front of a tiger slide in a toy store window on our way to the next bar.

Peeling fresh carrots.

Pickling onions and making kimchi. My fermentation game is strong these days!

Looking through Dominik’s sketchbook. I loved the tree whose bark resembled a mole burrow with its underground tunnel system.

The flu. Yes, really. Fewer pupils at school. Quiet times. I’m actually surprisingly healthy. I’d guess my probiotics must play a role here… Who knows.

More sourdough experiments. Writing about it (DELICACY - a haiku. Oven-warm sourdough / salted butter, alpine cheese / and a strawberry).

Finding a really interesting list of SanFran hippie era book recommendations at the end of Robin Sloan’s Ajax Penumbra: 1969. In the mood to read Maya Angelou, Tom Wolfe, Jack Kerouac, Richard Brautigan.

Even more beautiful books: I really enjoyed Die weiße Stadt by Karolina Ramqvist, a feminist author from Sweden, and the graphic novel version of To Kill a Mockingbird. But two books that literally (well, figuratively obviously) blew my mind were Circe by Madeline Miller (mythology, loneliness, animals and plants, magic and monsters, some desperate kind of feminism, independence and strength) and Ninth House by Leigh Bardugo (magical realms, university setting, psychological depth, unexpected twists and turns). I haven’t read anything comparable in a very long time and I desperately hope that there’s more to come from these authors.

A beach collecting all the world’s single socks in The Magicians. Oh and of course seeing them break the moon. What a sight. The show is super confusing, obnoxious and absolutely fabulous at the same time. Best example: the Freaky Friday szene in which Margo and Eliot switch bodies. I love how the actors took on each other’s speech patterns and behaviour.

A new addition to my colour vocabular: celadon (a greyish green; there is a type of ceramics you’ll only see in this colour which is not surprising since the shade provides such an interesting contrast to the the earthy, rusty orange of burnt clay.)

Manu telling me that he had rarely seen people with more joy in their eyes than me (“Ich habe schon Freude in deinen Augen gesehen! So ein Leuchten kann man nicht simulieren.”) after complaining about being bored and lifeless. / Making curry with or, well, for him the other night. Drinking Liqueur 43 with cinnamon and milk. Playing the Jackbox party games for which you can use your phone as a controller.

Finding myself in a well-known sitation from the past. Lying in Frank’s bed in the early morning hours, not that tired yet, when he starts talking about his life and his depression. In English, obviously, because that’s our emotional filter. Relating, since I feel quite similar. Coming up with a suggestion for a reciprocal support system. Let’s see what we can do for each other.

Looking at travel photographs. The sea, the cenotes. Longing to go back to Mexico or Australia. Diving. Taking it all in.

Dreaming of my grandmother talking about her biggest regrets in life. Weirdly she was in a little bundle under a coffee table, much like Voldemort in the last Harry Potter movie.

My weird, weird brain. How both pleasure and pain enhance my sense of smell and increase my brain activity, almost causing hallucinations and fixations on ideas. Like geometric shapes in gloomy off-colours and a beige silicon-like surface the other night. All I could think of was a benchscraper.

Blue eyeliner.

Brainstorming three-letter-words with Frank since I’m thinking of getting personalised Nike Blazers. Sad cat. Yes but. Dat ass. Why tho.

Flying squirrels. Watching them wobble through the air. How they look like cute exhibitionist when they’re extending their limbs and thus stretching their, well, let’s just call it wings.

The fact that red cabbage has an intricate pattern like brain convolutions when you cut it open.

Talking to Sonja for the first time in over two years. What a strange person. Interesting, too. At least in homeopathic doses.

Ripe strawberries and nectarines. Oh my god. I love fruit.

Meeting Eve at Pub Quiz. She identifies as female, loves swing dance, used to be an animator and I love her style. Also, I realised that really like Betty. And Dennis wasn’t mean to me for once. I love my nerd friends <3 And I learned that Starbucks was named after the first mate in Moby Dick! Also, coincidentally they asked a question about the city where To Kill a Mockingbird takes place (Maycombe, Alabama) after I had read it the week before.

Inviting Lorena to the Botanical Gardens. I always feel very happy and very much myself when I’m there. I sometimes wish I was a gardener. Lorena was late so I walked along the Spring Path outside and it might have been the first time I’ve seen a brussels sprouts plant. Inside I learned lots of Spanish words and marveled at the incredible butterflies. The huge yellow one right behind the entrance was my favourite. Its delicate feelers were fascinating.

Washing my hands at the Keg’s bathroom. Looking into the mirror. Suddenly thinking of the perfect karaoke song… Rescue Me by Bell Book and Candle! I kept singing it for days on repeat. My neighbour must hate me (nothing new here) especially since my voice is too low for the chorus.

It isn’t hard to see how such attachment patterns can undermine mental health. Both anxious and avoidant coping have been linked to a heightened risk of anxiety, depression, loneliness, eating and conduct disorders, alcohol dependence, substance abuse and hostility. The way to treat these problems, say attachment theorists, is in and through a new relationship. On this view, the good therapist becomes a temporary attachment figure, assuming the functions of a nurturing mother, repairing lost trust, restoring security, and instilling two of the key skills engendered by a normal childhood: the regulation of emotions and a healthy intimacy. // An interesting article on attachment styles and why theraphy works; it makes me want to learn more about attachment theory. This School of Life video is a nice addition as well.

That dream. About a book shop modeled after my picture of Penumbra’s 24-hour bookstore. There was an old man in a very narrow but high-ceilinged room full of books. There was no light source except for moonlight or some street lights. There were loads of stairs, very steep, leading to the back of the house. Upstairs the man would set out cat food and on the rooftop there was an old sailing boat. One day the man decided to open the door to the roof and let visitors see the ship, much like a museum; perhaps to attract customers. However, in the next night a cat-shaped ghost appeared who reminded me quite a lot of Kot Behemoth character in Mikhail Bulgakov’s The Master and Margarita. The ghost was not amused about the old man’s decision and took away his key, a big golden one adorned with a red ribbon.

Toasted sesame makes pretty much every dish so much better.

Watching High Fidelity with gorgeous Zoe Kravitz (I adore her effortless style and her outfits), getting in the mood for making a playlist and listening to more music in general. There are all these great songs out there I forgot about.

Remembering the xkcd storm chaser comics.

Making a wicked good batch of Pho for Tom.

Spending a nice evening with Alex at Shamrock. Singing along to American Boy by Estelle. Confirming the hypothesis that the nerdy, quiet ones usually have a freak streak. That moment in the morning. Eye contact and kegel exercises.

Karaoke with Margit and Betty. Meeting Manu’s doppelganger. Same type, looks, voice. Eerie.

Making a BA Gourmet Makes meme for Steffen after he had passed his law examps. Strangely Gaby kinda looked like him after I was done with it.

Saturday morning in bed. Reading comics and graphic novels. Fresh bedclothes, surrounded by books. Since it was February 29 I thought about leap years and asked a few friends what their inner seven-year-old would have done that day (based on the thought experiment that your birthday was on February 29 and you’d age in 4-year-steps which would divide your age by 4 obviously).

I came up with: visiting grandma / eating Cini-Minis / falling asleep with my face buried in a cat / beating my neighbour Anna at Memory / drawing while listening to a Bibi Blocksberg cassette.

Alex said he’d have been outside all day, building a snow igloo. Not noticing his mum telling him to come to dinner. If the weather had been bad he would have played with his dinosaur collection. His inner 7-year-old was a hopeless dreamer who got agitated whenever his parents had a fight. Who came home late from school every day because he forgot about time when he was talking to his friend next to a hedge with thorns that looked like tiny airplanes.

Lena said she would have been outside all day long, playing in the mud with the neighbours’ kids. Of course.

#things i love #present perfect #personal #february 2020 #february #2020

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bat-losers-inc · 6 years ago

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Collisions in the Dark (Ch 20): Buried Piece

Summary: As unbelievable as it seemed to Tim, they were all together as a family again, planning a battle strategy in Jason’s cramped kitchen.

Chapter Notes: Buried Piece: A piece hemmed in by friendly pieces and pawns. Such a piece will have a difficult time actively participating, and may also interfere with the development of other pieces.

“You and I wear the dangerous looseness of doom and find it becoming.” —“Introduction: New & Selected Poems.”, E.E. Cummings

They came as a group, ambushing them in Jason’s small kitchen, the only warning— a text from Damian offering a five minute heads up. There was no knock at the door, just the turn of the lock as Dick used his key to let them in.

Jason turned away from Tim to lean back against the counter, silently appraising the group. Tim knew they were waiting for him to turn as well, but Tim refused to do so until the coffee maker started dripping dark liquid into the pot. He had no doubts that this would be a long talk and coffee would be necessary to keep his calm.

When he turned he was greeted by five pairs of eyes that followed his movements.

He hadn’t expected to see all of them here. If they were going to be lectured on their individual actions over the past couple of days, he expected it to come from Dick and Bruce. Damian had already voiced his opinions on their decisions more than enough, as far as Tim was concerned. Tim hoped that the younger boy had just come to enjoy the show… except he was having a hard time believing that. After everything that Damian had done for him and revealed to him over the course of a day, Tim understood that he took no pleasure from watching this play out. And if he wasn’t here to gloat or to chastise, then why was he here?

Jason must have been thinking something similar for he grunted and said, “Man, you called in the calvary? I guess we really are in some deep shit. What is this a family roast? Everyone’s gonna get a chance to take their best shot at us?”

Steph’s brow creased with confusion, and perhaps a small bit of pain. “We’re not here to kick you when you’re down, Jason. We’re here to help.”

Jason’s eyes slitted. “Oh, yeah? Like how you helped Tim before? Locking him in a room like he’s a child with false promises that everything will be okay?”

Tim swallowed quickly and shifted his weight. He couldn’t help the sudden flash of heat that surged through his gut at Jason’s heated words. He knew that the older boy was jumping to his defence and a large part of Tim wanted to be relieved that Jason was there defending him again, snapping at anyone who might hurt him like a vicious dog. Another part of him, however, understood how misplaced his intentions were.

Tim bit hard into the side of his lip, but couldn’t stop himself from speaking. It needed to be said.

“You don’t get to say that, Jason. You’re just as guilty as they are in this, except where they stayed… you abandoned me.”

Jason twisted around to look at him, the anger on his face slipping away to reveal the vulnerable cracks underneath. Tim couldn’t stand that raw look.

He licked his dry lips and continued. “That’s not to say I’m free of blame, because I’m not. I’m just as guilty as you.”

Bruce looked around at all of them. “We’ve all made mistakes and hurt the ones we care about as a result, but we can’t move forward until this is forgiven.”

Tim gave a weak laugh. “Forgiven? You’re being very naive if you think any of this can be forgiven and forgotten. I think I speak for both of us when I say that I might move on, but that doesn’t mean I won’t still hate you all for your actions.”

“He’s right,” said Jason, eyes cast towards the floor, evidently deep in thought. Jason shrugged one shoulder. “I love Tim and would do anything for him, but I don’t think I can ever forgive him for what he’s done. My love for him doesn’t erase my hatred for his past actions… at most one counterbalances the other.”

“What we’ve done can’t be easily forgiven, but with time, hopefully we can mend the wounds so that they won’t leave scars.”

Tim met Jason’s eyes and slid further to the side until he was leaning against the counter next to him, their elbows touching, their fingers brushing until eventually their fingers intertwined.

Dick seemed to want to smile at the sight of them together, but another thought dragged his expression into a troubled frown. “But none of that can happen until we deal with the most immediate problem. Ra’s al Ghul.”

“As past experiences have proven, he isn’t going to take no for an answer.” said Bruce. “If he won’t stop, we’ll make him stop.”

“Yeah?” snapped Tim, “How’s that?” He couldn’t help the irritation that threaded through his voice. It just felt like Bruce was rubbing salt into an open wound. After all, it was Tim who had been fighting toe to toe with Ra’s for two weeks straight, getting further from victory with every encounter. Yet here stood Bruce, pretending he had all the answers— like Tim hadn’t been wracking his brain for the same thing for days now.

Bruce eyed him in that same way he’d done the last time Tim had gotten the nerve to lash out at him. It wasn’t anger or disappointment… no. Bruce understood well enough that he didn’t have the right to feel those emotions. The look seemed like more of an acknowledgement, noting that Tim and Jason were justified in their anger and willing to let events play out in whatever way his children wanted them to.

Tim pressed his lips together. In truth he didn’t want to be fighting Bruce. He wasn’t the real enemy here. Their family’s hastily formed peace left Tim feeling like they were standing on a stretch of volcanic rock. Fractured in places and barely holding itself together, their anger spitting lava through the cracks, it would be impossible to move forward until their tempers had cooled.

Bruce looked silently between Tim and Jason for another minute, making sure that whatever needed to be said got its opening.

“We go after him together… as a family. Since it’s impossible to change his mind, the only other option we have is to take his resources away from him.”

Damian stepped forward. “Right now, Grandfather is on the hunt for you, which means that he’ll be based at Nanda Parbat. It’s the strongest league base with the largest force of assassins and the most advanced tech. We dismantle that base and he won’t be able to hunt for you. Not until he’s rebuilt his organization.”

Tim bit his lip, thinking it over. “It’s a temporary solution at best. Knowing Ra’s, he’ll have the league up and running again in a month, at most two.”

“Oh, undoubtedly,” grunted Damian.

Bruce nodded. “I know, but it’ll give you time to get back on your feet and it’ll give us time to come up with a better plan.”

“Okay,” Jason scratched behind his ear. “So dismantling a base. That doesn’t sound so hard. With the firepower on the Batwing we might be able to do it without our feet ever hitting the ground. If we’re really lucky, maybe a wall will squash Ra’s into a pancake and save us all a lot of trouble.”

Steph shifted closer to Jason to give him a not so sly fist bump.

“One can always hope, right?” she smiled.

Bruce shook his head. “We won’t be blowing up anything. We’re all going in there to take down as many ninjas as possible and lock down any valuable tech. If it can’t be accessed and altered then we’ll fry it.”

Bruce turned to Tim. “I’m leaving that part up to you, Steph, and Damian. Barbara will be assisting you remotely—”

“No!” Jason barked out so sharply that Tim flinched hard against him. The grin he’d been sporting a moment ago had dropped right off his face.

Tim stared at Jason as he pulled his hand free of Tim’s in order to advance on Bruce.

“I’m not letting you pull him into this again. Tim’s staying here. Get someone else to hack computers for you. Fuck knows we all know how to do it! You never left a stone unturned when it came to training us, that’s for sure!”

One step forward, thought Tim, two steps back.

“Jason,” Tim gripped his arm above the elbow and gave it what he hoped was a reassuring squeeze. “It’s okay. Honestly. I’ll be with Steph an—”

Jason turned on him suddenly. “No, it’s not fine! It’s not fine, Tim. I want you to stay here where you’re safe. I won’t stand by and watch him throw you into that psycho’s arms again.”

Bruce had held his tongue while Tim and Jason spoke freely with each other, but now he spoke up. “Do you really believe that Tim would be safer if we left him at home while we did this? Call me reckless for bringing him with us, but I think there’s just as much of a chance of this being a trap. What if Ra’s expects us to leave him? Do you really want to take that risk?”

A mirthless laugh bubbled out from Jason’s lips. “That’s fucking cruel, Bruce. You’re going into this mission expecting Tim to be taken from us. The only question you pose to me is if I’d rather fight alongside him and watch him get taken right in front of my eyes or leave him here in false safety.”

Tim squeezed his eyes shut.

Jason shook his head and continued, “All you really care to know is which decision I could live with.”

He’d had enough of this… He couldn’t stand here listening to this same conversation play out over and over again. All of this talk about him, yet it was never posed to him. Tim was so tired of being the chess piece moved around on the board.

He slammed his fist down on the countertop, drawing eyes to him. “Stop talking about me like I don’t have a say in any of this, because I do. I love you guys, but your opinions on this matter don’t mean shit. It’s my choice and I say I’m going.”

He’d apparently shocked the room into silence, though Damian smirked approvingly from across the room. Jason’s eyes bored into him the longest of all of them. Tim didn’t say anything, despite the discomfort of his intense gaze. He let his words hang in the air… he wanted Jason to feel them and know that they weren’t going to change.

Finally, Jason gave a half shrug, “It’s your decision. If you can live with it then so can I.”

Tim breathed a sigh of relief. Perhaps they were getting somewhere after all.

Nanda Parbat, as far as secret bases went, was usually pretty desolate and hard to find from the outside. With the sonar vision in the Batwing to give them a peek inside the mountain base, though, they could usually get a good sense of what they were dropping into. Today, however, the sonar was reverberating off of the walls of empty hallways, the only movement coming from a small group of sentries completing another lap around their floor.

“Well that’s not weird at all,” blurted Steph. “Where are all the ninjas?”

Dick squinted at the monitor. “Deeper in the base, I guess. Ra’s must have gathered them where our tech can’t reach.”

“You promised me ninjas. There’d better be ninjas.”

Cass placed a hand on top of Steph’s. “I’m sure there will be plenty of ninjas once we get inside.”

Jason balked at the girls. “Hey ladies, we’re only about to engage in a dangerous battle in the hopes of saving my boyfriend from a psycho. Don’t sound so eager, would you?”

Tim blinked at him from where he was buckled into his seat. “Boyfriend?”

“Oh, is it too soon to be putting labels on things?” asked Jason with his eyebrows quirked in way that warned Tim he was arguing a futile point. “I just figured I might as well since we may all be dead in ten minutes.”

Tim couldn’t really argue with him there. “Alright, Boyfriend. Just don’t start calling me babe or anything in the middle of a fight because I will shoot you with your own gun.”

“Noted.”

Damian rolled his eyes. “Will you idiots please focus. Please— just for like, five minutes.”

“Oh, lighten up, Damian,” sighed Steph. “We’re focused.”

“Yeah, like a swarm of gnats. It’s no wonder Batman prefers to work alone.” grumbled Damian, strategically ignoring the evil-eye he got from Bruce.

“Alright,” Dick announced drawing everyone’s attention. “We’re heading into this blind as a bat.” He flashed a smile at Bruce while the rest of the group groaned. Despite his dislike of Dick’s puns, intentional or otherwise, it was still nice to have a little humor right before something this big. They might not be the best family, but they knew how to work together and ease the tension before a big mission. Tim thought that in the event that he didn’t make it out of this—if this moment was going to be his last memory of them all together, then it wasn’t a bad one to have.

“Remember your teams and tasks.” Dick continued. “Neither of these are optional. This base needs to be razed to the ground and everyone needs to be watching each other’s backs while we do it. We’re going up against an army. If we get separated, we’ll be outnumbered and then we’re all dead. Understood?”

They all nodded.

Sitting at the controls, Alfred flicked the switch to drop the ramp. It lowered with a mechanical whine until the lip hit the ground. They descended one by one into the packed snow.

Tim followed in Cass’s footprints as they head for the hidden entrance. He didn’t look back as the Batwing lifted off the ground, whipping snow up around them, and left them to their fate.

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bossman-hazani · 5 years ago

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Gangstars episode 1

Hey so this is my first time using this website. I’m moderately new to it but I thought that this might be a good place to post the scripts for an animated comedy series I wish to one day start. I decided that since I have no idea on how and what the hell to do in order to get it noticed by a producer, I thought a good place to start was to post the scripts online and see if I could build a community on it and see what will come from it. I mean, worst case scenario is that literally nothing will happen and it’ll go completely unnoticed so here it is. Please feel free to give any feedback in whatever way is possible on this website lol. The first episode might be a little weak I’m not really sure what to expect from readers but please give it a chance to when I post the second episode before giving up on it. I guess the kind of humour it comes off from is more a Rick and Morty type of thing. And please can nobody be an ass with feedback? I’m still new to this and I don’t really appreciate it. This isn’t really a final product and I’ll probably change the script based on any feedback I get so please try to keep it constructive and helpful. Thanks and enjoy.

Gangstars Episode 1 script

(The camera shows a brick wall in an alleyway with a door. You can hear the muffled voices of the interviewer and his mother)

Interviewer: "!?"

(Door opens)

Mom: "DAMMIT BOY, IF MY SON'S GONNA SMOKE, HE'S GONNA DO IT IN HIS OWN DAMN HOUSE, NOT THE TRASHY APARTMENT HE BOUGHT HIS MOM CAUSE HE DOESN'T LOVE HER"

Interviewer: "alright, alright! I'm going!"

(Interviewer exits door, grabs a cigar, takes out his phone and starts talking to someone on the phone while leaning on a wall)

Interviewer: "Hey, Stu. Look, I need you to do me a favour. Dammit Stu are you drunk again!? Fine, whatever. Just go tell Cindy that I'm gonna be in the office to tomorrow morning - what do you mean what!? Why the fuck do I even pay you!? Dammit Stu! You'd better give results or you're fired! Oh so NOW you remember. Whatever. Now tell Cindy that I'm gonna be in my office in the morning and that she has to go get mike so I can meet him and promote his ass. Heh, yeah, he's gonna be making some big bucks now"

(Interviewer continues talking while smoking, and as this happens, a large arm (Fat Toni) with a burger starts creeping off side of screen and attempts to suffocate him.)

Interviewer: "WHA-!?"

(Interviewer punches Fat Toni in the stomach to which an immune sign appears, slowly rising. As time is running out, Interviewer grabs glass bottle and hits Fat Toni over the head with it.)

Fat Toni: "ah SHIT!"

(FT drops to floor directly onto interviewer's leg and a crack is audible)

Interviewer: "Fuuuck!!"

Fat Toni: "Help me up, guys!"

(Two more figures, Teef and Giuseppe run in to help FT up there is clear strain in doing the process.)

Teef: "Holy shit, Toni you’re so fucking heavy!!"

Giuseppe: (Makes strained sounds)

(Interviewer politely waits through this event)

(When Fat Toni is finally up, he takes a moment to catch his breath)

Fat Toni: "Ok, where were we??"

Interviewer: "Uhhhh I think you were about to proceed with kidnapping me?"

Fat Toni: Ooohhh yeeah... Well... Do you wanna go through with it or has the moment kinda passed?"

Interviewer: "Nah I think I can bring it back."

(Interviewer backs away, into a wall, unable to stand. The shadow of a LARGE man slowly, with help, makes their way up and looms over interviewer)

Interviewer: (In fear) "What are you?"

(Bag goes over interviewer's face and screen goes black)

Fat Toni: (As if talking to a sick child) "Wake up, this is a temporary kidnapping."

(From the perspective of the interviewer, you can see his eyes opening and closing slowly)

Fat Toni: "Wake uuuuppp"

(Interviewer still doesn't wake up)

Fat Toni: (Irritated) "Hey, cmon, wake up already."

Fat Toni: (yelling and at the same time slapping the interviewer) "Wake up!!"

(Interviewer is awake now and looks all around him. He can see a messy room and at the end of it stands a dark figure who is not visible due to a light shining into the interviewer's face)

Fat Toni: "Alright now, talk!!"

(An irritated muffle comes from the interviewer as he makes it clear that he cannot)

Fat Toni: "Oh, right. Sorry about that."

(From the figure comes a hand that reaches to the face of the interviewer and removes some duct tape)

Fat Toni: "Ok NOW talk."

Interviewer: "Somebody help me!!"

Fat Toni: "Naah I was just messing with you, you never had to talk. But what we ARE gonna do is we're give you something to make sure that you can't go to that interview tomorrow."

Interviewer: "huh? But-"

(Toni's hand goes over interviewer's face and the screen goes black for a few seconds.)

(The camera then goes to Mike. He's walking in a suit with a briefcase (office work starter pack) through the Jimmyasssteak building and his fellow employees pass by, engaging in conversation. It's clear that Mike is familiar and comfortable in his status and that EVERYONE knows and loves Mike.)

Employee 1: "Hey, Mike!! Pretty sure your gonna be promoted to CEO!! AND your gonna meet the boss! Even I haven't seen him"

Mike: "Yeah ikr! But it still hasn't been confirmed... Fingers crossed though!!"

Employee 2: "EY, MIKE!! YOU FUCKED MY WIFE!"

Mike: "Yeah I did"

Employee 2: (High fives mike) "Holy shit! That's really an achievement! I still haven't fucked her after 5 years together!! Anyway, have a good one, Mike!"

Mike: "Yeah, you too, Gary."

(Mike goes into a reception and starts waiting. After a sew seconds, a secretary comes up to mike)

Secretary: "Oh, hey Mike, the boss will see you now."

Mike: "Alrighty then, let's go."

(Mike and secretary start walking together through a corridor)

Mike: "So uh you know what the big guy's like? What I should say to him? What he looks like?"

Secretary: "I have no idea. I've never seen or heard him in person. Every day at 11 I escort everyone out of the building and security is turned off so he can enter his office. I guess you could say he likes his privacy."

Mike: "But then how did he tell you he wanted to see me?"

Secretary: "We communicate through ASCII. (but pronounced as ASCI)"

Mike: "So... the Advertising standards council of india??"

Secretary: "No it's with TWO 'I's."

Mike: "Ohh..."

(Camera slowly blacks out then slowly back into colour to show Mike and the Secretary reaching the end of a corridor. The secretary is a blubbering mess while mark is just confused and shocked)

Secretary: "And then I said "what, you don't like me that way?" and then you'll never guess what he said. Go on guess."

Mike: (slowly and confused) "How? This wasn't even a long corridor. It was only 30 seconds ago that we were talking about the boss. How did- Just- how!?"

Secretary: "HE SAID YESSSS!"

Mike: "Well I hate to have to leave you at the peak of the... The conversation but- uhh- we're at the boss so I kinda have to do my interview and all..."

Secretary: (clearly fine now) "Oh, ok!"

(Secretary goes to a computer and types in a legitimate ASCII message. In response, a message that's clearly not ASCII pops up)

Secretary: "Alright, I'm going to have to go while the boss opens the door. It's standard procedure. So bye Mike!"

(Secretary starts walking away. A door slowly opens. Mike goes through the door, looks around and sees Fat Toni, who is drawing a moustache on the Mona Lisa painting hung up on a wall)

Fat Toni: "OH, HEY! Mark, right? I- uh I wasn't expecting you!"

Mike: "But didn't you literally tell your secretary that you were ready for me through ASCII??"

Fat Toni: "Mike... How in the goatlord’s shitting anus am I supposed to contact my secretary through the advertising standards council of india!?"

Mike: "Oh no she says it's with two 'I's."

Fat Toni: "Aaaahh. Well that makes more sense. I thought she was playing a number game when she sent me all those ones and zeros

Fat Toni: "Mike... I don't like mike... Is it ok if I call you Donnie?"

Mike: "Please call me by my name, sir."

Fat Toni: "Then it's settled. Your now Donnie... Donnie Dwayne!"

Donnie: (small and powerless) "ok..."

Fat Toni: "So Donnie. I'm gonna ask you some questions and your gonna answer then a’ight?"

Donnie: "Sure, whatever."

Fat Toni: "What are your thoughts on crime??"

Donnie: "I've always hated crime. I don't want to establish myself in it in any way and it helps nobody in any way. Innocent people just get hurt."

(Fat Toni gives a disapproving 'hmm' and literally scribbles on his notepad)

Fat Toni: "Now for the second question; What's your weight and how much do you normally eat in a day?"

Donnie: "How does this have anything to do with my promotion?"

Fat Toni: "Trust me, it's very important."

Donnie: "Well I guess I'm more or less the average person for both of them."

Fat Toni: "So... 49,000 calories each day??"

Donnie: "what!? No! That's stupid!! It's like 2,000!"

Fat Toni: "TWO-THOUSAND!? WHAT KINDA SUPER FUCKIN DIET ARE YOU- *ahem* That's very, very low. I gotta say, Donnie, your not doing very well for yourself so far. But you can still make it back."

Donnie: "Ok, ok..."

Fat Toni: (Dark and slowly) "Now it's time for the third question..."

(features of Fat Toni's face are blackened and are very serious as he says this and Donnie is concerned)

Fat Toni: (All grim and dark features on Fat Toni's face quickly disappear as he says this) "Do you like burgers? I like burgers."

Donnie: "Oh- well I like a good burger. They're actually pretty good."

Fat Toni: "I should probably tell you the truth... You know the gangstars?"

Donnie: "Umm no..."

Fat Toni: "Oh c'mon you gadda know them... Ya know... Biggest gang in the worldiverse?? Startin' gang wars here and there? You've probably heard of the but don't remember"

Donnie: "Ohhhhh those guys are JOKES!"

Fat Toni: "Ah c’mon, they're not that bad..."

Donnie: "I mean, they were the first and only gang to ever have their heist thwarted by an old lady"

Fat Toni: "Well- uuhh- I'm pretty sure they felt bad for the grandma and they didn't wanna hurt her..."

Donnie: "Dude, she was 96 and they had guns. She was only armed with a walking stick."

Fat Toni: "Pretty sure she was a martial artist."

Donnie: "What kind of martial artist is called Masel?"

Fat Toni: "UM only the most powerful ones. You know how martial arts gotta be, you can’t have your enemy suspect it. Pfft what do you know. Listen. I'm not your boss. My name is Fat Toni. I'm here to recruit you on the behalf of the Gangstars."

Donnie: "No."

Fat Toni: "Look Donnie, The gangstars need you. We're at a very bad state and this is the final straw for us. We need you."

Donnie: "No."

Fat Toni: "In this job, you were about to be promoted to CEO of the company. Would you rather be a CEO of Jimmyasssteak and get about 15 million a year, as tempting as it is, I think our offer will still win you over. By joining the gangstars, you get to risk your life, for scraps from heists!" (shows a picture of two happy people) "See, in the picture, you can see two of our happy members, enjoying the rough territory of wars."

Donnie: "Who even ARE they??"

Fat Toni: (Looks at the picture) "Ah. That's Tim and John. They didn't make the old lady attack. Don't ask. And I haven't even gotten to the good part! If you choose to join the gangstars, you get a chicken! On the house! With deals like that, SOMEONE'S gonna be making it through the winter!"

Donnie: "Well, I was GONNA say "no.", but I think the chicken part really changed my mind to... No.

Fat Toni: (pulls out gun to Donnie's face) (Aggressively) "It sure is a good thing that you're so excited to join the gangstars. You start..." (Looks at watch) "now!"

Donnie: "Of course. This is just great."

Fat Toni: (Holds up handcuffs) "you're gonna need to wear these..."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ (Fat Toni and Donnie are walking on the pavement of a motorway. Occasionally, there's a car passing by. Most give an aggressive comment to them.)

Fat Toni: "Sorry we had to walk. We have a small unicycle back at the HQ... I totally forgot it though."

Donnie: "A unicycle? You can ride one?"

Fat Toni: "Yeah you should see us when we use it. We look like a fuckin' circus crew piled up on top of each other."

Donnie: "That's kinda st-"

(A car passes by, and says an aggressive comment."

Driver 1: "You fuckin' dumbass!!"

Fat Toni: "You too you piece a' shit!!"

Donnie: "What the fuck was that about?"

Fat Toni: "Well you're in the motorway. In these areas, it's home to some of the most aggressive drivers in the city. A word of advice, do NOT go through the motorway in a car. VERY few people ever see the end of the motorway. Don't worry about the comments though, asshole comments are like compliments here."

Donnie: "Oh. Well that's also stupid. What's the gangstars like??"

Fat Toni: "Oh they're great once you get to know them. But if you're gonna fit in, you're gonna wanna work on your gangstar voice. Try one now!!"

(Passing car)

Driver 2: "HEY!! I'm drivin' here!!"

Fat Toni: "yeah, I bet you are!!"

Donnie: "Well what do you want me to say??"

Fat Toni: "Ummm... say that the gangstars don't suck and that they're actually super cool."

Donnie: "Ok, that sounds like a fairly simple task." in gangstar voice) "The ganghhh-"

Fat Toni: "Go on, say it."

Donnie: (in gangstar voice) "The gagstars donn- donnut sss-" (out of gangstar voice) "nope. I can't do it. It's physically impossible They just suck that much."

Fat Toni: "Ok, imma let that pass, but don't say that any more. Look. We'll work on your gangstar voice later"

(Passing car)

Driver 3: "How's ur mom!?!?"

Donnie this time: "Much better than yours!!"

(Car stops in the distance for a moment and then starts reversing. Meanwhile, Fat Toni is in shock.)

Donnie: "Wait what's he doing?? Didn't I compliment him?"

Fat Toni: "Dammit Donnie!! YOU'RE OUTTA THE MOTORWAY ZONE!!"

(Camera shows the ground with half of donnie's front foot past a black and yellow tape on the ground)

Donnie: "Well how tf was I supposed to know that!?!?"

Fat Toni: "THERE'S A NEON ADHESIVE TAPE ON THE FLOOR AND ABOUT 50 SIGNS!! HOW COULD YA MISS IT!?"

Fat Toni: "Just let me handle this!"

(Fat Toni pulls out his gun and points it to the driver who is at this point already out of his car and is approaching them. Meanwhile, Donnie starts slowly making a getaway.)

Fat Toni: "Look sir, I'm sorry about this misunderstanding. My grandson over here."

Driver 3: "Idiot. You don't look anything like him. And the age gap is WAY too small for him to be your grandson."

Fat Toni: "Oh but he is my grandson. Tell 'I’m Donnie."

Donnie: "Huh? Oh- yeah, sure am."

Driver 3: "Well tell me something, then. Why is your grandson trying to run away?"

Fat Toni: "Are you serious?? That's like the oldest trick in the fuckin' book. Did you really think that was gonna work? Go on, Donnie, tell him how you're still here!"

Donnie: (slightly distant) "YEAH!! He's right!"

Fat Toni: "See what did I tell ya!?"

(Fat Toni looks back and sees Donnie running away)

Fat Toni: "SON OF A BITCH!! Uh... is that someone calling you a fucking dumb ass??"

Driver 3: "You're the fucking dumbass if you think I'm falling for that bu-"

(Fat Toni throws the gun in driver 3's face and starts running for donnie.)

Fat Toni: "Donnie? Donnie!! Don't worry. I think the guy's knocked out!! You can stop running now!"

Donnie: "You idiot! That's not why I'm running away! I need to go back to my LIFE! I can still get my promotion and forget all this EVER happened!!

Fat Toni: "But Donnie!! The chicken! It's still up for grabs!!"

Donnie: "You're fucking crazy!! Just leave!"

Fat Toni: "Slow down, Donnie, I'm fat!!"

(Donnie continues running while looking back at Toni who's stopped to catch his breath.)

Donnie: "hah haha AAHAHAHAH IT'S OVER! I'M FREE! OOP!

(Donnie runs into a tree and falls back onto the ground and goes unconscious. The camera shows Toni picking up Donnie and holding him over his shoulder and carries him off. The screen slowly fades.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

(Donnie wakes up in a small room on some hay, holding his head. The room looks old and floors and walls are made of wood. Donnie walks out of the room to another but this room looks normal and modern. Just regular but it's shit. In the room, Fat Toni stands alone in the room. He notices Donnie, starts walking towards him while talking.)

Fat Toni: "Hey Donnie, How did you enjoy our 17th century themed guest room?"

Donnie: "Well I feel like shit. I also smell like shit and I don't remember that before I hit my head."

Fat Toni: "Yeah... It's a pretty weird coincidence how the guest room does that to ya."

Fat Toni: "Listen Donnie, You're about to meet the other members of the gangstars. But, before you meet them and officially become a gangstar, you gadda sign this" (holds up a blank contract with only the signing area.) "so that if you bail, we can add shit in the blank and take you to court claiming shit you never agreed to! And if you don't officially join the gangstars, then we'll kill you. So... it's nothing important. You get it. Now sign it."

Donnie: "Welp. Doesn't look like I have that much choice... Uh... should i sign it as Donnie or should i use my actual name??"

Fat Toni: "Donnie will work just fine. I mean, I don't know how it not being your real name would affect how we can take you to court."

Donnie: "Oh I'm sure it doesn't. Real names are way overrated anyway"

(Donnie signs it as "Donnie")

Fat Toni: "Alright, this is the moment, as soon as you meet the rest of the gangstars, you'll officially be a gangstar. There's no going back from here."

Donnie: "Ummm I don't really need t-"

Fat Toni: (yelling upwards, cutting Donnie off) "GET YOUR ASSES DOWN HERE!!"

(Distant shuffling)

(the gangstars start walking in one by one)

Teef: (Talks in a shitty Italian accent) "What the fuck is it now?? If you've lost your cheeseburger again, we're NOT gonna help you this time"

Fat Toni: "Well actually I'll talk to you about that later buuut I called all your asses down here because I wanted to introduce the latest addition to the gangstars... Everyone meet Donnie!!"

Teef: "Oh, another one?? This is the fourth time this week. They keep dieing, dammit!"

Guiseppe: "Taglatelli!!"

Donnie: "Wait-- what's up with that guy, why did he just mention a delicious food that doesn't relate to context."

Fat Toni: "Ah, that, is guiseppe, he's got pure Italian blood, but we never really got to figuring out why exactly he doesn't talk proper Italian. His language is based mostly on Italian words that Americans know and love in their language likee... Ravioli, or pizza then there's also a sprinkle of random American words, but he CAN understand what you say. We came around to calling it retarded Italian. Oh yeah, he also makes a great ravioli."

Giuseppe: "Pizza ravioli Guiseppe (holds out hand) spaghetti"

Donnie: (shaking hand) "So is it like every word has a translation??"

Teef: "Nah it's really completely random. One ravioli could mean biscuits in one sentence but shit in another."

Fat Toni: "Yeah... Trust Teef's judgement when it comes to retarded Italian. He's the only one who understands retarded Italian."

Teef: "Welcome to the gangstars, if you need anything, just reach reach me, I probably got what you need."

Fat Toni: "Teef's our guy whenever we need something, if you need something done, just go to him!

Donnie: "yeah, sure, whatever, but why the fuck does he sound so weird??"

Fat Toni: "Well a couple years back his ass got into some deep shit and well... He knew some people who could fix it... let's just say long story short, according to the law he's related to guiseppe and is legally required to speak in a shitty Italian accent. It's a story for another time."

Guiseppe: "Spaghetti artichoke" (starts ruffling in pockets) "biscotti penne"

Teef: "Oh c'mon Guiseppe. You really gotta do that this time??"

Guiseppe: "broccoli."

Donnie: "Wait- What's happening?"

Teef: "He uh says you gotta do the ritual."

Donnie: "Oh for fucks sake what's it now?"

(Once guiseppe seems content with what he was searching for, he pulls out a live chicken and holds it in both hands and starts talking retarded Italian. What he's talking about isn't important.)

Guiseppe: "coffee ciabatta gelato..."

Donnie: "What the fuck!? Where the hell did he even fit that thing!?"

Fat Toni: "It doesn't matter, it's bad luck to question the ritual. It's a tradition that's been going through the gangstars for centuries now, your gonna have to accept the complimentary chicken."

Donnie: "What!? No! I'm not gonna accept this stupid chicken!"

(Guiseppe takes note of this and looks offended, but continues with the ritual.)

Teef: "You gotta take the complimentary chicken man. No excuses now, you're a gangstar."

Donnie: "What the hell even is this place!?"

(Guiseppe finishes speaking and goes down on one knee and holds the chicken above his head)

Donnie: "I'm not gonna take the chicken"

Teef: "You gotta take it man."

(Guiseppe starts to slowly push the chicken towards Donnie's face)

Fat Toni: "just take the damn chicken, just for a minute."

Donnie: "I can't, I'm allergic dammit!"

(Guiseppe slowly starts getting seriously pissed)

Teef: "Would you do it for a quarter?"

(Donnie shoots Teef an annoyed glance)

Teef: "He ain't buying, Toni."

Fat Toni: "Well raise!! We need him to take the chicken!"

Teef: "But I already offered a quarter!"

Fat Toni: "Whoa Teef, he's not worth our entire budget."

(Guiseppe slowly starts getting seriously pissed)

Fat Toni: "Donnie, I'm telling ya this as a warning, not advice; take the chicken."

Donnie: "Alright! I'll take the chicken!!"

(Donnie takes the chicken in a sudden movement, Guiseppe goes back to normal and walks out.)

Donnie: (throwing the chicken behind him followed by a squawk) "What a weird motherfucker..."

(Doogie walks through the door)

Teef: "Motherfucker..."

Doogie: "Reporting for business, boss!"

Fat Toni: "Ah come onn didn't I give you that calculus book!?"

Doogie: "That was a colouring book for kids."

Fat Toni: "And I did NOT think you'd finish it so damn fast"

Donnie: "Alright whose this dumbass?"

Doogie: "well my-"

Teef: "We'll do the talking, asshole."

Teef: "His name's Doogie; the smartass dumbass never really officially joined the gangstars, he just started coming here."

Fat Toni: "Physically, he's worse than useless, but he's a real smartass... Most of the time he's just annoying though. No matter what we do, we can't get rid of him.

Donnie: "Well why don't you just" (makes a slitting throat gesture)

Fat Toni: (excitedly) "Oh yeah, that reminds me, check this out"

(Fat Toni pulls a gun to Doogie's forehead between his glasses and shoots him without hesitation. When Doogie dies, he makes the most pathetic sound. Doogie's corpse slides a small distance so his head is under an object.)

Donnie: "What the hell did you just do!?You killed the weird kid!!"

Fat Toni: "What? you suggested that I kill him? Didn't he Teef?

Teef: "He did, and by laws of the gangstars, he'd be held responsible"

Donnie: "No! I was making a joke! I didn't want you to seriously kill him!!"

Doogie: (Weak and slowly) "Goooo..."

Donnie: "Wait- why did he just make a noise? What was that?"

Teef: "That. Is the reason why we could never get rid of him. I mean cmon did you really think we didn't try killing him? I mean just look at him."

(Doogie starts making a very slow rise)

Teef: "If you'll excuse me for a moment, I have something to get"

(Doogie starts talking while rising)

Doogie: "How many times do I have to tell you to not to do that guys? I know it's funny but it's annoying. You ruined my good glasses too..." (continues )

(Teef walks next to Doogie with a shovel and smashes him by the back of the head towards a wall. Doogie makes another one of his pathetic noises as he dies. His corpse slides towards a wall and and some sort of stacked tall object falls just right to cover his body from the viewpoint and from all characters in the area.)

Teef: "Welp, I think I took care of that."

Donnie: "So.... What!?"

Fat Toni: "To put it simply, it was by some really shitty fortune that the one useless pain in the ass is basically impossible to get rid of. We've never seem what happens when he's being reborn. The surrounding will just comically rearrange themselves through extremely unlikely processes to cover his corpse."

Teef: "The more you try to force seeing the regeneration process, the more destructive the events get so they'll force YOU not to see it. So uh try not to do that."

(Two semi-large guys walk into view next to Toni)

One of them: "Hey Toni. A word please"

Toni: "Oh, hey Donnie, meet these guys." (points to one of them) "This guy is Tommy de mato" (points to the other one) "and he's Danny 'D' Ruff."

Donnie: "Damn, those are some pretty stupid yet kinda catchy names."

Teef: "Yeaah... That was back when we were using the catchy name generator."

Fat Toni: "Ahh that was a good one... Anyway, they're mostly undercover or doing background work so you won't be seeing much of them."

(Fat Toni turns to Tommy and Danny and then back to the others)

Fat Toni: "Alright. I'll be back in a minute"

(Fat Toni walks a small distance with Tommy and Danny to talk.)

Fat Toni: "Alright so what's up guys?"

Danny 'D' Ruff: "We found a bank. This one's too easy."

Fat Toni: "How much they are we gonna get outta this heist??"

Tommy De Mato: "Well they don't got much money or gold or much of anything because they literally just opened but they got cookies; lots and lotsa cookies."

Fat Toni: (Stroking chin in deep thought) "How many cookies are we talking about here?"

Danny 'D' Ruff: "Get this; whenever you deposit or withdraw money from an account, they'll give out free cookies."

Fat Toni: "Holy shit that's a lot of cookies..."

Tommy De Mato: "Think about it man, this time in a few days, we'll be rolling in cookies beyond our wildest dreams and a small portion of money."

Fat Toni: "Dammit, we're doing it!!"

(Fat Toni rejoins the rest and Danny and Tommy leave.)

Donnie: "No the fuck I won't do it!"

Teef: (Offering a bloody bat to Donnie) "C'mon it's not that hard to just give him a whack to the head."

Doogie: "No, please don't. It hurts"

Donnie: "No!! It's psychotic!"

Fat Toni: "Don't worry, Teef. He's only finding it so difficult because he doesn't know him well enough."

Teef: (with a hint of hostility) "Just give it time."

Fat Toni: "Alright guys. We're gonna rob a bank."

Teef: "Sweeet. It's been way too long." (yells upwards) "HEY, GUISEPPE!! GET YOUR ASS DOWN HERE. WE'RE PULLING A HEIST!!"

Guiseppe: (muffled) "Taglatelli pastrami!? Fusili?"

Teef: "uhhh... Brocoli lasagna pizza"

Guiseppe: "Fusili!"

Teef: "He's in."

Donnie: "Yeeaah I don't know... Now we're breaking the law? This felt more like some creepy fanclub thing. I never really thought of doing illegal shit..."

Fat Toni: "Yea but that's only cause you don't know the stash we're gonna pull from this heist."

Donnie: "Fine. What is it??"

Fat Toni: "Cookies; lots 'n' lotsa cookies."

Donnie: "Yup... Just as incredibly stupid as I figured."

(Guiseppe joins the group)

Guiseppe: "Concerto."

Teef: "He says he's ready."

Fat Toni: "How about everyone else?"

(Camera scrolls to the side as everyone gives their answer)

Teef: "Yeah!"

Guiseppe: "Libretto" (yes)

Doogie: (excitedly but cut off) "Ye-!"

Fat Toni: (Excitedly) "You aren't coming!"

Doogie: "Awww..."

(Camera goes on to Donnie who has an exaggeratedly and comically pissed off face and his arms crossed and is hunched)

Donnie: (with a childlike misery) "No."

Fat Toni: (excitedly) "Doesn't matter!!"

(View goes back to Fat Toni.)

Fat Toni: (In a cool voice) "Well. Now that everyone's ready..." (pauses while putting on some of the stupidest glasses on the end of his nose and pushing the glasses up the bridge of his nose) "... Let's go rob a bank."

*** END OF EPISODE 1 ***

#gangstars #animation #script #screenplay #comedy #action #gang #gangs #funny #gangsters

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