#I am the director of the stupid useless program they all got into

[neverbesokind]

every. time. I think I have a handle on this fucking job, I realize that I don't and I am a failure.

[naralanis]

little bumps in the road (pt. 19)

Previously, on LBitR...

Like her cell before this, the room Lena now occupied has no windows, only the bright fluorescent lights that emit a soft hum just loud enough for Lena to hear—something that would ordinarily drive her crazy with annoyance, but now just gives her something else to focus on.

There are no clocks, either, at least not that she could see, not even on the many monitors attached to her via an array of wires. Though, to be fair, her visibility is somewhat compromised by the limited range of movement the handcuffs afford her.

No one has come in to check in on her so far, not even a nurse doing their rounds or some hapless DEO agent—because she is very much not in a hospital, as much as it looks like she might be. Lena would guess she’s being held at the DEO, but she doesn’t particularly like guessing. She likes knowing. And what she knows is that she’s been here for what feels like forever and she’s starting to get antsy.

Not that Lena has much idea of how much time has passed; she tried counting the minutes in her head, but couldn’t concentrate long enough on the task to keep it up for more than twenty counts to sixty, which in her book, is long enough.

She half-expected Lex to come in at some point, even if just to gloat, but he hasn’t shown so far, and Lena figures he doesn’t need to. He’s already got his pieces in place—he controls both Lena and the Director of the DEO; he can just sit back, kick up his feet, and relax while he waits for the game to start up again.

For Kara to come flying into his trap.

Fucker, Lena thinks bitterly. She feels a little high—probably whatever pain medication she was given.

Her stomach growls, sudden and loud, and Lena realizes she has no idea when she had eaten last. But more than telling she’s hungry, the unpleasant sound tells her she’s been sitting here twiddling her thumbs (figuratively speaking, of course) for a few hours at least.

Tired of being laid up and useless, and entirely not in the mood to wait for Alex or whoever else to come in, Lena tries to shuffle down the bed, as much as the handcuffs will allow, to try to get to the bandages stuck to the side of her head.

There’s some incredibly awkward shuffling down the thin mattress and further into the cheap, staticky sheets, and the angle is far from comfortable, but eventually Lena manages to lean down just enough so her fingertips graze the edge of some gauze, right at her temple. She pinches it between her index and middle fingers—the only ones that actually reach—and slowly begins to tear it away from her skin.

It’s at this moment that Lena becomes exceedingly thankful for the invention of morphine—or whatever else it is they have her on, here—because after some poking around, she’s definitely reopened her wound. Her fingers come away bloody, and the whole spot feels raw and hot to the touch, but fortunately, she feels little more than pressure.

She’s very well aware that, as far as good ideas go, this one probably nears the bottom of the list (or perhaps isn’t in it at all), but her options are limited, after all. And to be quite fair, even if she doesn’t succeed, she’s already in this pseudo-hospital room—it’s quite unlikely her captor will let her just. Die.

The angle is mightily uncomfortable, which makes it less than ideal when it comes to actually digging into a head wound, and so far she’s felt nothing that resembles the minuscule implant in her skin, but Lena is nothing if not tenacious, not to mention stubborn as hell. Kind of like Kara.

“If you would like, I could provide you with the schematics to Lex Luthor’s mind-control implant without the need of aggravating your wounds.”

Lena jumps—as much as one can jump when they’re handcuffed to a bed—at the voice; she’d been so concentrated on her slightly insane task she didn’t hear anyone come in. Her bloodied hand snaps away from the wound on her temple in shock and hits the rail with force, enough to send her now-empty ice-chip cup flying to the other side of the room.

“Brainy!”

Lena cannot quantify the sheer relief she feels when she sees the stoic figure at her door, ramrod straight with his arms crossed at his back. His lips are tugging into a little smile, like he’s so clearly happy to see her, and for some reason that makes her want to cry.

She does cry a little, and it’s so pathetic, because her hands are still handcuffed so she can’t even reach out to wipe at them. But it’s the first time in weeks, maybe months, that someone other than Kara actually looks happy to see Lena, and she finds she’s wholly unprepared to deal with it.

“What are you doing here?”

He steps in, squinting at her and tutting under his breath as he sees her bloodied hand, head, and bandages. “Do you need me to tell you how exactly much you’re increasing your risk of infection by interfering with your bandages?”

Lena lets out a wet, choky laugh. “No, thank you. I’ll be good.”

He nods, lips tugging ever-so-slightly wider. It’s the closest to a beaming grin as Brainy can get, and Lena can’t help but laugh. Maybe she’s hallucinating. But she’s so, so very happy to see me.

“Good,” he says, looking a bit awkward just standing by her bed with perfect posture. Lena wouldn’t have it any other way. “I will call someone shortly to redress your wounds. Trying to remove this type of subdermal implant with a piece of glass only had a 9.7% chance of success, in case you were not aware.”

Lena lets out a little snort. “I figured the odds weren’t great,” she quips. Brainy’s now just close enough she can touch his elbow with her casted hand—the other one is erm, bloody. It’s a little awkward—Brainy, like Lena, was never the extremely touchy type—but he accepts it with a little laugh. “Brainy, Alex—she also has an implant; she doesn’t remember—”

“I am aware of the Director’s implant. I was working to disable it, but it seems you managed to trigger the return of some of her memories.” He raises his brow, and Lena can tell he is mightily impressed. “Well done.”

“Who else has them? Who else has Lex gotten to?”

“Only the Director, as far as we know. Lex hasn’t made many of them, but we are working on disabling the entire system.” He frowns. “I need your help,” he admits as if it both pains and delights him to need Lena’s assistance. “I found the schematics of the implant itself, but the system…”

“Works on the basis of a program I designed,” Lena groans.

Brainy nods solemnly, thankfully not saying anything further on the subject. Instead, he pulls a small tablet from his pocket, and taps at it until it flashes blue. He turns the screen for Lena to see, and her eyes have a bit of a hard time focusing on the diagrams slowly spinning in place.

“The implant cannot be removed without triggering an alarm,” Brainy begins, and Lena is glad to finally have someone who can get straight down to business. “As well as several countermeasures Lex put in place. Had you successfully removed it, it would have. Erm. Liquefied your brain. In essence.”

Lena lets out a low whistle through her teeth. “Talk about overkill. So I guess we can’t remove Alex’s either.”

Brainy shakes his head. “No. The only hope is by disabling the entire system, which unfortunately cannot be accessed remotely,” he sighs. “I’ve tried 346 times and haven’t gotten close.”

“Well, if we can’t access remotely, then the only other option would be to—”

“LENA! ARE YOU BLEEDING??!”

Brainy jumps back a full three feet, bumping into the monitors with a loud clatter, hugging the tablet to his chest like a kid caught stealing from the cookie jar. Lena yelps, startled by a blue-clad figure at the door to her room, mask off but scowl very, very much in place.

“Nia,” Lena breathes, but she doesn’t have the chance to say anything else before the young woman marches to her bed, looking exasperated.

“What the hell were you thinking—girl you made a whole-ass hole in your head, this is not the time to start poking around in there, if this scars I swear to god I am going to kill you before Kara kills me before Lex kills us all are you kidding me right now—”

“Nia,” Lena tries again, and she can’t even be bothered with the way Nia’s fussing over her torn bandages and slowly clotting wound, because she just wants to thank her, she wants to hug her, but most of all, Lena just wants to cry. “Nia—”

“Oh my god, are you crying!?” Nia yelps, her previous fury vanishing within a second as it turns to worry as she eyes Brainy, who looks completely out of his depth at Lena’s sudden sobbing. “Why are you crying??”

Lena wants to raise her arms to hug the young woman, but the stupid handcuffs won’t let her, so she just. Sobs. Like a little baby—it’s a little pathetic, but she can’t help it, because Nia’s here, Nia’s the one who took her to Kara. Their mad run across the country, the resentment that melted into companionship again, the laughs they shared along the way—it was all because of Nia.

Nia seems to understand, on a surface level, because she lets out a sigh, dropping the gauze she’d been unsuccessfully trying to stick back on Lena’s head, and just wraps her arms around her, tight and present.

“Thank you,” Lena sobs wetly against the crook of her neck. “Thank you.”

  << Previous || Next >>

[katsukikitten]

Part 5

For once in your life, your eyes slowly open, only having been disturbed by warm morning sunlight. The soft comforter trapping your body heat and essentially you, as it pinned you to the soft mattress. You snuggle deeper into the sheets, breathing in the smell of clean linen and caramel.

Wait. Caramel?

With a jolt you jump from the bed, eyes wide as you look for the source of the scent. Patting down your jeans and shirt for at least one knife. You hardly remember what happened after dinner with his family. You remember booze, light conversation while feeling warm and floaty. Oh shit what was that passive that activated again? Rest assured?

"Info on rest assured." You grumble, voice soft from disuse. Your quirk happily pulls up a little informational box that you can see. Too sleepy to make the box private as it reads aloud to you.

"PASSIVE BUFF REST ASSURED. A newly unlocked buff that increases sleep quality and can only be activated around trusted individuals and safe places. Would you like a list?"

You stare at the question box with a flashing yes or no before you point with the tip of your knife to yes.

"Currently there is only one thing listed. Type : Individual Name: Bakugou Ka…."

"Oi." Someone calls from the front door of the apartment as you dismiss the information with a wave of your hand. He discards his boots at the door before making his way to his bedroom.

"You talking to yourself dumbass?" He says, blocking your only exit by leaning on the door jamb. He holds an iced coffee towards you, his eyes sharp as he adds.

"We need to talk about your file."

Crossing his arms you ignore his offer of iced appeasement, he sets it on the low dresser as you speak.

"It's not up for discussion."

"I'm your boss, I deserve to know."

"What you deserve to know is what's in that file. My whole life doesn't fit into a manila fucking folder. Quit asking questions."

"I'll ask what I want." He growls, "Because it's suspicious that you have this unbelievably complex quirk and yet I'm sure your top skills have nothing to do with stealing."

"If you're that concerned then ask the director of the program. I'm not the only secret 'reform'." You throw your hands into the air is exasperation

"He showed up dead shortly after you were inducted. Plus no one has any real record of what you've done. Not a single thing listed on what you've stolen."

"Talk to Deku then, he's next in line for that program, he ain't dead."

"He said he doesn't remember approving your file." He bites back and before you can retort strong fingers wrap around your wrist. His calloused pads brush over the cool metal of your bracelet.

"RECOGNIZED, BAKUGOU KATSUKI : NEW LIMITED ACCESS GRANTED. 1. Health and Condition status, upon request 2. Top five skills 3. Buffs that would benefit Bakugou Katuski. 4. Pending buffs to be activated by host. Please state a number."

"Two." "Cancel!" You try to shout over him but he beats you to it. The bracelet opens up a little box displaying your top five skills as of late.

"Stab resistance, poison resistance, what would a thief need those for? Stealth is number three and slight of hand is number five. Shit don't add up Princess." He glares while your nostrils flare, ripping your wrist away from his grip.

"You're really fucking pushing it…" He takes a step towards you while you step back as if it were part of a dance as you try so hard to keep your wrath in check.

"Am I? Like I said, shit ain't adding up. You have this bracelet that still has limited information to your quirk, support knows nothing of the recordings or god damn blocks you've placed on it and lastly…" Your knees hit the back of the back of the bed causing you to sit on the mattress. His rough palms come to lie flat against the fabric next to your thighs as he leans in. You fight to shrink back.

"Lastly, I deserve to know how an unnamed woman, who obviously knew you, turns up dead moments after I arrive on scene and then her body is gone in a matter of minutes. She poisoned you with a complex concoction that the lab in the agency has yet to figure out the formula to it and yet you knew the fucking antidote? What did you really do?"

Rage boils in your blood as you stare into his vermilion eyes. Like flipping a switch you turn ice cold, your breath mingles with his.

PASSIVE BUFF SHARP TONGUE ACTIVATED INSULTS DEALT WILL HAVE 39% MORE STING.

"You know what's funny? You don't see me asking how you became a manager with your shitty attitude. Nor do you see me asking how you manipulated and gaslit your way to the number one spot." You press your cheek against his as your lips graze his ear, "And you sure as hell don't see me asking how you're considered a hero at all after you told Izuku to kill himself in middle school."

The scars in his chest and stomach roar to life, demanding attention as his shirt scrapes against the sensitive skin. He takes a step back as if struck while the room begins to smell of smokey spiced caramel. His bones groan as his knuckles bloom white.

You smile as you stand, collecting your bag and the jacket he lent. Even grabbing the iced coffee he got you. Because why let it go to waste?

Cruelty slips onto your shoulders as nicely as his borrowed jacket while you pause at his bedroom door wanting nothing more than to leave him with terrible thoughts.

"Did you ever even apologize for that?"

Silence is your answer as you chuckle to yourself.

"Didn't think so."

You leave him with those nasty thoughts. Long gone as he still pants, pain shooting through his gut and lungs as it did all those fucking years ago.

As he moved without a second thought and placed himself in front of a stupid, dopey mop top boy who tried to hold up the weight of the world by himself.

With a guttural growl he looks over his destroyed room, as if a bomb went off.

He reaches for his phone dialing the number he never bothered to save.

"Meet me at our usual when you get off your stupid fucking shift. I know you've forgotten to eat you useless hero." The other line chimes in with a deep laugh as he adds.

"Okay Kaachan. I'll be there."

Izuku doesn't get invited out often and especially not by Bakugou. So the emerald haired boy decides to keep an eye on his oldest friend. Silently watching and not glancing too long as hot head huffs and puffs, taking another shot. The ash blonde's favorite spicy ramen goes untouched as the large man across from him slurps up his fourth bowl, covered in sweat and dirt from the day's work.

"You better get my fucking money's worth of this endless ramen bowl shit." He bites, slamming down another shot, fingers subconsciously finding the old scar on his chest. The action does not go unnoticed by his more docile friend. Izuku thanks the waiter as he starts on his fifth bowl.

"I'm starting to think you're mad about more than the endless ramen you ordered me." Bright emerald meet dark garnet eyes that glare, Bakugou's cheeks burn in his buzz.

"Fuck you. Nothin's wrong." Another deadly shot.

"That's your seventh. Kaachan you can't fool me. Your body language gives it away." Bakugou follows Izuku's eyes to his fingers. Quickly he removes his calloused pads from the divot. Angrily staring at the wall like a child who's been caught.

"Fuck you." He murmurs, silence settles over the pair in the far back corner of the restaurant. Bakugou's eyes glance over to Izuku who continues to eat, crimson bore into the scars on his arms from where the dumbass had broken them time and time again. His scars burn with your words, with the memory of what he's said in the past.

Too cruel and for what?

"You know I'm-" Bakugou starts but Izuku holds up a hand, wanting to spare his friend.

"I know, you've shown me everyday, even before you jumped in front of me, Kaachan. I've always known." He leaves it at that, in his heart he knows that Bakugou is sorry. He's seen it in every action since their first year at UA, he doesn't need to hear him say it.

What good are words when actions spoke louder?

"So what's bothering you? Worried over someone? You're dating Rogue now right?" Izuku asks, holding his chopsticks at a point while Bakugou takes another shot.

"Her file is what's bothering me. Deku, she doesn't have a fucking thing of her past. Not to mention you don't even remember signing off on her. Real responsible." Bakugou watches with a dull snarl as Izuku goes back to slurping his noodles.

"Ka...Kaachan." Izuku chokes, "Not fair. They put a lot of your desk too and I bet you don't remember half of it."

"I'd remember something like that. Just makes it that much more suspicious. Probably foraged by someone but the question is who…." Katsuki sets his head in his hand, staring at his orange broth.

"Well, did you ask her yourself?" Bakugou scoffs in response.

"Yea, and it didn't fucking turn out well." His finger finds his stomach this time, the ghastly white crater suddenly irritated by the fabric of his shirt. Izuku stops eating, he isn't stupid and easily connects the dots. The soft man thinks back a decade of his friend is the worst condition but more worried about him.

"Kaachan…" Deep jade eyes water a bit but Bakugou puts up a hand

"Don't." He barks, sighing.

"So you must really care about her if whatever she said affected you that much. You weren't even bothered when they were trying to 'cancel' you." Izuku taps Bakugou's bowl with his chopsticks, silently begging the blonde to eat. Hopping he'll take at least a bite to soak up some of that alcohol. Reluctantly deadly fingers pick up the sticks, gathering ramen between them but still undecided if he should eat.

His silence is answer enough for Izuku.

"I know my agency started the program. I'll look into it some more tomorrow. I'll be mostly office duty since I have so much paperwork anyway. But even if her past is dark Katsuki, what are you going to do? She may not have had any say in the matter, she doesn't give me that evil vibe."

Bakugou thinks back to you. How you fight, how you hold yourself.

How cute you were sleeping on his shoulder before he eased you onto his lap. How softly you snored in his bed. His stomach twists, Izuku's words and yours floating around his head.

"I guess I'll decide once I have more answers." With that the blonde decides to bring the spicy noodles to his lips.

[alexandrinav0605]

Warning

Part two of DONE - LINK TO AO3

Natasha Romanoff protects the people she loves.

______

Natasha Romanoff didn’t care for a lot of people.

That wasn’t something that she try to keep underground, on the contrary, she tried to hide that she cared for someone to begin with. So, it wasn’t fool to think that the few people she cared about were extremely important, and that she would do anything for them, even if it were illegal.

Penny Stark-Parker was definitely someone Natasha care for, the girl called her Auntie Nat after all. Natasha would kill for that girl, but she knew Penny, and Penny hated dead. Now killing the girl’s mother for even daring to make her little spider cry was out of the question, but that didn’t mean she will not make her pay.

That’s how Natasha found herself outside on a decent apartment on Queens. Mary didn’t understand that her daughter didn’t want to see her and on the last few days, she had been trying to reach her. For the first time, she had called Penny, which resulted on an inconsolable Penny and a furious Tony Stark. On Natasha’s case she was murderous; she had told Tony many times that Mary wasn’t healthy for Penny, but just as the girl has said, Tony didn’t feel it was his place. The ex-assassin understood that, but it didn’t make her less angry at how Mary had treated Penny. After the first incident, Tony programmed Karen to receive only certain calls for Penny without asking Penny, although Natasha was sure the girl knew, she was a genius after all.

Trying to enter the Tower was also something Mary tried to do, but after Penny cutting ties, FRIDAY didn’t allow her in, not that it made Mary stop. Everyone had managed to make the girl as unaware of her mother’s antics as possible, but all of them knew that eventually Penny would find out and all the process would go back to zero if not less. Natasha didn’t know how hard it was to cut ties with a toxic mother as she never had one, but she knew it wasn’t easy, so here she was, ending this for better or worse.

Sher wouldn’t kill Mary, that would make Penny more likely to find out. Threatening her to stop searching Penny would be enough. Just saying that she would find a way to fire the woman of her job at SHIELD would be enough, as the woman care enough to leave her daughter for the job. I would be easy and quick, and as everything Natasha solve, it would stay solved.

She made her way inside the apartment, searching it before deciding to sit on the couch to wait for the owner. As everything the infamous Black Widow did, her arrival was spotless, because 5 minutes after siting, the woman she was waiting open the door, not noticing the quiet visitor.

Natasha got up, as silent as ever, then, taking a knife out her pocket, she secured her clueless victim.

Mary jumped surprised, trying to defend herself, useless for someone being trap by Black Widow. “Shh, don’t make a sound, I just want to talk a little.” Her tone was a scary sweet that make everyone froze. Mary obviously recognized her but didn’t say a word.

“I wanted to talk about you trying to contact Penny, who is much better without you.” Natasha wasn’t someone who talked a lot, the quicker the better. “She already told you in the nice way that she doesn’t want to see you, and you didn’t listen. Now your opportunities are over, I am not nice when someone harm someone I care. I care about Penny and you hurt her. So,” She made a little pause. “I want you to stop looking for her.”

Mary didn’t hold back. “Why would I? She is my daughter, and I have the right to see her. It doesn’t matter what Stark, or any other stupid Avenger says.”

Natasha was the one that didn’t hold back this time. “How about what SHIELS says?” She took great pleasure on seeing Mary losing all color at this. “You work for them, don’t you, well I have a surprise, I’m a friend of the director and so is Tony. If we told him that we will not work for SHIELD any longer because of you threatening our little spider, he will be furious. You know what happens when Nick Fury is furious?” Her pause was tense. “No? Well, I do. He fires people, people like you.” She stopped talking for her words to sink deep.

“I know you care about your job; you abandon you daughter for it. Now I asked you, would you risk it for her?” Everyone knew that answer.

Mary wouldn’t, not for Penny anyways. She just wanted to hurt Tony Stark, but she wouldn’t risk it for him either. She shook her head.

“Good.” Natasha was relieved that she wouldn’t have to murder her, it would be a lot of work. “You won’t talk about this to anyone if you don’t want me to forget the promise I made to Penny and decided to slice your throat open, alright?” Mary just nodded.

With that Natasha left the apartment and head back to the Tower. When she got there, she ask FRIDAY for Tony, who inform her that Tony was in the living room with Penny after the girl had a nightmare. She went to the room in question and she found Tony and a sleepy Penny on the couch. Tony just lift his head when Natasha let her arrival notice.

“Is she alright?” This girl could made everyone soft in a matter of seconds, Natasha knew that.

“She will be once the Mary situation is handled” Tony look at Natasha, the question in his eyes.

“Then she will be fine.” Then she added. “If Mary knows what good for her, Penny will be fine.”

Tony just murmurs a quite good, while playing with the sleep girl’s hair. Natasha sat besides Penny, leaving her in the middle of her Auntie and her father. Penny stirred and moved to rest her head on Natasha, saying a sleepy Auntie.

“Hello, маленький паук.” God did Natasha love this girl. “How are you doing?”

“Been better” If Penny has or hasn’t been better, they didn’t know. “But I think I will be.”

Natasha just smiled because she would. Mary didn’t call again and never tried to enter the Tower. If her pay-check was lower the next month no one say anything.”

[slut-kiss-g1rl]

geostorm <3

FADE IN:

INT. COURTROOM

GERARD BUTLER is at a COURT HEARING... in the FUTURE!

GERARD BUTLER

It is the future. Natural disasters have become alarmingly commonplace. Hurricanes, mudslides, floods, you name it. The level of destruction is catastrophic.

RICHARD SCHIFF

To be clear, this is the FUTURE you’re talking about?

GERARD BUTLER

The nations of the world have finally decided to take action. So, pooling our resources, we’ve invested heavily in environmental research and clean energy, and cracked down heavily on industrial emissions standards-

(laughs and laughs and laughs)

Just kidding! We’ve built a giant orbital platform that shoots the bad weather with space missiles and space lasers, of course.

RICHARD SCHIFF

So you’re the genius who built the space station. But instead of just making you the chief engineer, which would make sense, we made you director of the whole multi-national program, despite the fact that you have no administrative skills or political experience and mostly get what you want by yelling at people and punching them in the face?

GERARD BUTLER

That’s correct, you useless government fucks. You can all lick my sweaty gonads.

(moons everybody)

RICHARD SCHIFF

You’re fired and we’re giving your job to your little brother Jim Sturgess. At least he can do a passable American accent.

GERARD BUTLER

Och, ye dinnae hae ta be a deck abote et!

INT. SPACE STATION

Engineer RICHARD REGAN PAUL is aboard the WEATHER STATION when he notices that somebody has stuck a SMARTPHONE on an important CIRCUITBOARD.

RICHARD REGAN PAUL

Oh crap, somebody’s sabotaging this hundred-trillion-dollar space program using consumer electronics! I better draw everybody’s attention to this and alert my superiors!

(falls down and hits head very hard)

Duhhhh I mean I should hide this evidence and tell nobody yessss.

He stashes the EVIDENCE, but shortly afterwards the CORRIDOR he’s walking through is SEALED and all the WALL PANELS START BLASTING OFF!

RICHARD REGAN PAUL

What the fuck? Why would we design them to be able to do that? What possible situation could arise in a space station when we’d need to get rid of the WALLS in a hurry? This makes no-

(spaced)

The SPACE STATION then proceeds to turn a bunch of VILLAGERS in AFGHANISTAN into SNOWMEN.

INT. WHITE HOUSE

JIM STURGESS is having a meeting with the movie’s entire supply of Oscar-nominated actors.

JIM STURGESS

So yeah, we kind of murdered a bunch of innocent people with a giant ice ray like Mr. Freeze, oops. We need to send up an international team of brilliant engineers to the space station to investigate what went wrong, despite the fact that there’s already an international team of brilliant engineers ON the space station.

ACADEMY AWARD NOMINEE ANDY GARCIA

No way, Jim. As the president, I can’t have foreigners touch this station which has been funded and staffed predominately by foreigners! We’ll send up Americans.

ACADEMY AWARD NOMINEE ED HARRIS

ONE American. I mean if we’re going to half-ass this thing, let’s half-ass it, y’know?

ACADEMY AWARD NOMINEE MARE WINNINGHAM

I am also in this scene for some reason.

JIM STURGESS

Ugh fine, let’s send up Gerard. It’ll take some doing though, he and I haven’t really gotten along in the vague amount of time since you gave me his job. Seriously, the timeline is super nebulous, it could have been anything between a week and five years.

ED HARRIS

I have faith you can convince him, Jim. As your father figure and mentor, you know I support you in everything, and if you ever need somebody you can implicitly trust-

JIM STURGESS

We get it, you’re the villain, whoop-de-doo.

(leaves)

EXT. LOSER SHACK

JIM goes out to see GERARD, who is hanging with his DAUGHTER.

JIM STURGESS

Hey bro, the space laser’s been acting up. Think you could pop up to space real quick and fix it? Thanks.

GERARD’S DAUGHTER

Dad, no! You can’t go back to space! It’s too dangerous! Don’t abandon me like this!

GERARD BUTLER

OH GOD NOT THIS FUCKING TROPE. Yeah, parents should never do work that takes them away from their families for any amount of time or puts themselves at risk, no matter how important it is. I’m a shitty father because I’m agreeing to go save hundreds of millions of lives, possibly including yours. Shut the fuck up, you little turd.

GERARD immediately storms off and goes to SPACE.

EXT. HONG KONG

Suddenly the movie remembers the CHINESE BOX OFFICE and cuts to HONG KONG, where DANIEL WU is heading home with some SHOPPING.

DANIEL WU

(looks around)

Aw fuck. A famous capital city in a disaster movie? This isn’t gonna end well.

Sure enough he drops some EGGS on the ground and they immediately begin to FRY!

DANIEL WU

Holy shit the ground is apparently as hot as a stovetop! You’d think this is something the people in the street would have noticed, but uh, I guess all our shoes are made entirely of thermally nonconductive silica fibreglass?

(jumps in car, speeds off)

And our tires too, don’t forget our tires!

DANIEL drives through the streets as the pavement CRACKS and FIRE erupts out of the SUPERHEATED PAVEMENT!

DANIEL WU

Damn, the space station must have done that! Not that we ever explain how geothermal energy could possibly be controlled by space lasers!

INT. SPACE STATION

GERARD arrives aboard the SPACE STATION to meet the team of ENGINEERS.

ROBERT SHEEHAN

Welcome, Gerard! I am an asshole. A smug, unlikeable asshole. The exact kind of jerk you’d think would turn out to be the saboteur. Which is kind of awkward, because I DO turn out to be the saboteur.

AMR WAKED

It’s okay, I’ll cover for you by red herringing as hard as humanly possible in every scene I’m in.

(lurks sinisterly)

ALEXANDRA MARIA LARA

Meanwhile I’m the station’s commander. I exist to be your sort-of love interest with whom you never get beyond meaningful eye contact, and to make you seem hypercompetent by standing around uselessly while you do everything important.

GERARD BUTLER

Okay then, now that everybody’s in position let’s get this 2012-but-with-weather/Gravity-except-stupid-and-with-more-explosions hybrid on the road! Bring on the barrage of gratuitous global annihilation!

ALEXANDRA MARIA LARA

Actually there’s nowhere near as much of that kind of thing as the trailers promised. But if you like scenes where someone stares at tiny gobbledegook on a computer screen and explains what plot points it discloses, we’ve got a buttload of that!

GERARD BUTLER

(puppy dog eyes)

ALEXANDRA MARIA LARA

Oh fine, here’s one to tide you over.

EXT. TOKYO

Giant hail in Tokyo!

INT. SPACE STATION

GERARD BUTLER

Ta! Now let’s look at that satellite that fried Hong Kong.

ROBERT SHEEHAN

Uh, oops, unfortunately that malfunctioning satellite got smashed beyond usefulness because the hydraulic arm which was holding it malfunctioned!

GERARD BUTLER

Fine then, let’s look at the surveillance footage from when Richard Regan Paul got spaced.

ROBERT SHEEHAN

Um well we can’t see the footage of that wall malfunction because the footage has also malfunctioned.

GERARD BUTLER

Wait though, there’s still a useable recording in a leftover bit of wall that got stuck in a solar array panel! Let’s go for a spacewalk and get it.

ROBERT SHEEHAN

Sure thing WHUH OH while you’re trying to retrieve that malfunctioning bit of wall, your space suit has malfunctioned!

GERARD BUTLER

(bouncing off every part of the space station)

HEY YOU KNOW WHAT, I’M STARTING TO THINK THAT MAAAAYBE THERE’S JUST A SMIDGE OF SABOTAGE GOING ON.

ROBERT SHEEHAN

Damnit! Turns out that by the time you’re committing sabotage to cover up your sabotage to cover up your sabotage to cover up your sabotage, it starts to get kinda obvious what you’re doing.

(pause)

Nnnnnot that I have anything to do with that. Right, Amr?

AMR WAKED

(hovers creepily at the edge of frame)

ROBERT SHEEHAN

Exactly.

GERARD retrieves the DATA from the WALL FRAGMENT, but finds that he can’t ACCESS IT.

GERARD BUTLER

Oh crap, only a high-level government official could have restricted the data like this! That means that SOMEBODY extremely high-ranking is behind all this, but we don’t know who!

ALEXANDRA MARIA LARA

It’s Ed Harris. Everybody has figured this out already.

GERARD BUTLER

I have to tell Jim about this. But they might have bugged our comms, and my message may be intercepted by whoever the traitor is.

ALEXANDRA MARIA LARA

It is quite obviously Ed Harris.

GERARD BUTLER

I better use a code.

(calls Jim)

Hey there, Jim! Just thought I’d stop in the middle of this deadly crisis to randomly reminisce. SOMEtimes I think about that old WHITE porch we used to have at our HOUSE, where our pathetic inbred ASSHOLE of a father used to get FUCKED up on tequila and whale on US with a wrench. Glad that’s all OVER.

JIM STURGESS

A high-ranking government traitor? Why that could only be-

ALEXANDRA MARIA LARA

ED HARRIS, IT’S ED HARRIS YOU IDIOTS, THERE'S NO OTHER REASON FOR HIS CHARACTER TO EXIST

JIM STURGESS

-the president! America is soon scheduled to hand control of the space station over to an international committee. The president must be causing these disasters in order to retain control!

GERARD BUTLER

Right. Because after a fuckup of this magnitude, obviously the last thing people will want to do is remove the administrators responsible for killing everybody.

JIM STURGESS

And he’s not gonna stop with these penny-ante special effect showcases, either! He’s trying to chain a bunch of them together and bring on a geostorm!

GERARD BUTLER

You mean the tiny, ugly-ass sports compact from Isuzu?

JIM STURGESS

Not a Geo Storm, a GEOSTORM! A made-up, probably impossible meteorological phenomenon where it storms everywhere on the planet at once! According to our computers, this precise sequence of weather disasters - including the ones which the space station hasn’t caused yet - will lead to a geostorm in EXACTLY the nice, round timeframe of ninety minutes!!

GERARD BUTLER

Fuck! Fine then, let’s do an emergency shutdown of the station so it can’t frag the planet. This potentially apocalyptic orbital weapons platform DOES have an emergency off switch, right?

JIM STURGESS

Well, yes... but, ha ha, it turns out it can only be activated using the president’s biometrics. So if the most dangerous thing ever made malfunctions, it can only be stopped if you can get the president into the right specific room quickly enough.

(shrugs awkwardly)

Fortunately, I have been provided with a convenient secret service girlfriend who can grab the president for us!

ABBIE CORNISH

Okay then, I’ll-

JIM STURGESS

Plot devices don’t speak, honey.

ABBIE CORNISH

Then why does this movie have any dialogue at all?

INT. DEMOCRATIC NATIONAL CONVENTION

JIM and ABBIE go to find PRESIDENT ANDY at the DEMOCRATIC NATIONAL CONVENTION in ORLANDO. But first they run into ED HARRIS.

JIM STURGESS

Ed, thank god I ran into somebody I can trust! We need to grab the president so we can shut down this Bond villain-esque weather scheme.

ED HARRIS

Uh, okay. I have the president right here in this gun. Stand still so that I might fire him at you.

JIM STURGESS

Wha - YOU?! EVIL?!? DWAAAHHH?!?!?

ED HARRIS

Don’t patronize me. Anyway, part of my plan is to set off a giant lightning storm here and kill everybody in line of succession ahead of me, so I become president!

JIM STURGESS

Are you fucking kidding me? We’ve gone to the trouble of pointing out it’s an election year! Do you honestly expect an administration that ran an environmental program so badly that it KILLED THEM ALL to get reelected?

JIM and ABBIE grab ANDY and run for it! Then a fuckton of LIGHTNING starts DESTROYING THE DNC!

BYSTANDER

Man, those Russian hackers have really stepped up their game.

(incinerated)

ABBIE CORNISH

Quickly, we can get away using this SELF-DRIVING cab we just commandeered! Since I’m driving it there might seem to be no reason for us to point out that it’s a SELF-DRIVING cab, so I guess now the audience has already figured out we’re shortly going to be pulling some trick where it SELF-DRIVES. We’ll still act like we’re being clever, though.

ED HARRIS

Chase that cab, my suicidally dedicated minions! Meanwhile I will teleport to the road ahead of them, so I can set up a rocket launcher ambush! Nothing screams “accidental death” like getting blown up by a fucking rocket launcher. FIRE!

MINION

Uh, you sure you don’t want to wait until we can see who’s driving? Disregarding any possible self-driving tricks, cabs are pretty interchangeable and that could in fact be entirely the wrong car-

ED HARRIS

I SAID FIRE!

They BLOW UP THE CAB! But then ANDY appears and shoves a GUN in ED’S FACE.

ANDY GARCIA

That’s right, we sent the empty cab driving towards you at sixty miles an hour! And now here we are, having caught up to it on foot within the next twenty seconds. My legs are KILLING ME.

ED HARRIS

Come on Andy, you should still let the geostorm happen! My theory is that the massive catastrophe which is going to demolish the face of the planet will handily attack only our political enemies and we’ll be fine!

ANDY GARCIA

Goddamn, how is it that each new layer of your motivations is even dumber than the last?

EXT. EVERYWHERE

Meanwhile DIRECTOR DEAN DEVLIN looks under the COUCH and finally finds the movie’s MISSING DISASTER EFFECTS, and they all start happening at once! Ice storms in Rio! Fire storms in Moscow! Tsunamis in the desert!

GERARD BUTLER

Opposite weather, is it? In that case I’m guessing London is currently having a pleasant sunny day HEY-OOOHHH!

ALEXANDRA MARIA LARA

But we’re not doing so great here in space either. Somebody’s set off our self-destruct system, and the station’s gonna explode in [amount of time left in which the geostorm can still be averted + just enough time for a thrilling escape]!

GERARD BUTLER

Wait a minute, according some kind of plot mumbo jumbo, the only one who could have started the self-destruct protocol is... ROBERT! You little traitor, you’re working for Ed!

ROBERT SHEEHAN

Okay okay, you’ve got me, but SURPRISE I had a gun strapped to the underside of this desk and now you haven’t got me at all, HA!

GERARD BUTLER

What was your plan if I’d confronted you in literally any other room?

ROBERT SHEEHAN

Clearly I must have guns strapped underneath every surface in the entire space station.

(opens fire)

Aw yeah, no better strategy for staying alive than shooting bullets in a room which is separated from the vacuum of space by a single pane of-

ROBERT accidentally SPACES HIMSELF! The movie does not reveal whether, in his last moments of consciousness, RICHARD’S FROZEN, ORBITING CORPSE happens to collide FOOT-FIRST with ROBERT’S CROTCH, so one is forced to assume that it DOES.

INT. SPACE STATION STOPPING ROOM

Back on EARTH, ANDY arrives in the ROOM he has to be in so that he can turn off the SPACE STATION.

ANDY GARCIA

All right, we did it! I just used my biometrics to activate the thing, so now the world is saved! Right?

JIM STURGESS

Actually Gerard still has to get to another specific room on the station itself and press a big “YES” button for it to actually work.

ANDY GARCIA

OF COURSE. What was I thinking, we can’t let this emergency shutdown be activated merely by having the PRESIDENT OF THE UNITED FUCKING STATES TURN IT ON WITH HIS OWN SPECIAL BODY SCAN. No, we need the extra, mega-secure step of having some engineer click “confirm”!

JIM STURGESS

Look, we wanted to do the president kidnapping scene but still give Gerard a big action climax, this was the only way.

In SPACE, GERARD and ALEXANDRA make it to the SPECIAL ROOM, shut down the SPACE STATION and SAVE THE WORLD!

ALEXANDRA MARIA LARA

Phew, and with one second left to go! That’s right, because we turned off the weather machine when we did all the bad weather instantly cleared up; but if it had gone on for even one more second it would have become a global superstorm which would have wiped out most of humanity. What a sensible premise!

GERARD BUTLER

Unfortunately while we were able to get everybody else off the station, there’s no time left for you and I to escape. But I knew this when I stayed behind. I may not have been a good father, but I hope my daughter can at least appreciate the sacrifice I made by dying in space in order to save-

ALEXANDRA MARIA LARA

Are you seriously copying Bruce Willis’s death from Armageddon?

GERARD BUTLER

Oh FUCK you’re right. Screw it, let’s just jump in a spare satellite and fly to safety then.

ALEXANDRA MARIA LARA

Hooray! I’m not even gonna ask why a weather satellite has room inside it for passengers!

They HOP ABOARD the SPACE EX MACHINA and fly away!

EXT. LOSER SHACK

Months later, GERARD, JIM and GERARD’S ANNOYING DAUGHTER are all hanging out and fishing.

GERARD BUTLER

Neat, our family’s come un-estranged! What a happy ending. Why if we keep the focus on stuff like this, and the fact that in Brazil the dog didn’t die, we can ignore the fact that millions of people just got horribly murdered!

JIM STURGESS

And the rebuilt space station is now in international hands as intended, and they’re gonna make sure none of this can ever-

GERARD BUTLER

Wait, what the fuck? They’re doing the space station again? After the last one turned out to be a city-destroying death ray which could be commandeered by a single nerd with a smartphone? That’s the least plausible ending this movie could have possibly had!

JIM STURGESS

Uh huh. Yeah, I’m sure in real life politicians the world over would instead start seriously committing themselves to environmental policy. Hmmm?

GERARD BUTLER

...Okay yeah this way’s more realistic.

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

>:(

[brokenbones-singsongs]

A trip down today on memory lane with Timehop:

1 year ago: I was far skinner than I am now, still in school, went to the discovery place after, and I guess happy? I didn’t say anything. But I seemed okay.

2 years ago: I was in Charleston with Keegan and her ex boyfriend. It was our last night. We went to a bakery and got desserts and coffee that I don’t remember having so it must not have been remarkable. The place we went reminded me a little of Chelsea market which was sweet. We went to a really fricken good seafood place for dinner and I got crab cakes with scallops and shrimp and a creme brûlée. Then we went bar hopping and though it was cold, it was nice and the city lights were beautiful as always.

Three years ago: I simply posted a picture of me and Andrew. I don’t remember a lot of this time surprisingly enough. I was getting ready to go to California in a few weeks and working two jobs (18 hours a day) I was constantly busy and running myself to the point of irreversible exhaustion. I never left myself a moment to breathe or rest. I only slept and worked and volunteered. I wasn’t okay, but I was trying to be. Happiness was hard to come by.

Four years ago today: I was dating Zach. Keegan and I were spending A LOT of time together. She was helping me figure out how to manage a starbucks for the first time and we spent the rest of it baking cookies and getting into shit. Zach bought me a plant. We had only been dating two weeks at this point. It feels like it was longer, but it wasn’t.

Five years ago today: We just got home from NYC for the first time. I was missing Keegan and oh so sick of the rain and colder weather. We’d seen enough of it in the city and I wanted spring. We get leaves and warmer days far quicker than everyone up north and I was READY. I was mentally not okay and juggling a lot of things that seem so simple to me now. In a relationship I knew would someday end, working the simplest of jobs, and kinda bored. Life was easy as it was going to be and yet, I had no idea how great I had it.

Six years ago: I was spending a week with my Mawmaw Kelly. Corey broke up with me so I ran away from home (sort of) so I would be okay. If it’s one thing I do well, it’s making myself move when I’m on the brink of giving up. My tendencies were far more safe then. Go spend a week with Mawmaw, call my mom, spend a weekend with my dad, pick up an extra shift at work, stay with a friend...I’m far more reckless now. I was governed by my own conscience and careful decisions back then. Always afraid of upsetting someone or rocking the boat unnecessarily. I gave up a lot of things that could have been potentially good by keeping that mindset so naturally I’m a bit stupid now. I’ve ruined my mental health here and there by being an idiot, but damn if I don’t have some beautiful memories because I finally swallowed my irrational fears. I made my now, semi-famous miniature pineapple upside down cakes for the first time that night and convinced my grandma to watch White Chicks with me. I’ve never seen her laugh quite as much or as hard before. Somebody at school put Google eyes on all of the statues and murals. My science teacher finally caught on. He was amused and asking Twitter who did it. It was a friend of mine.

Seven years ago today: For you theatre kids, it was hell week! Bye Bye Birdie was officially set to open tomorrow night and I was so sick I was falling asleep with my head resting on the book while programming lighting cues. I had somehow managed to get bronchitis that week and was slowly dying, but as they say “The Show Must Go On” and so it did. We were at school until nearly midnight that night. I can’t remember who was unfortunate enough to have to run me to and from rehearsals that week, but I sincerely apologize. We all had a silent understanding among the cast that the director would make you cry at least once before the show went on and it was nothing personal and to keep going. That was the night we all collectively snapped. Mrs. Moore lost her shit on me, at which point another tech member informed me I was useless and only there because my friend was a part of the cast and pulled me in. I cried. I got angry. And then I swallowed all my frustration and worked my ass off and threw it all back in his face when he inevitably fucked up. Fun times. We really thought someone had to of said the “M” word because everything was shit. Props were missing, lines were forgotten, we deleted some lighting cues (hence my falling asleep at the board) costumes were missing pieces and that’s when Thomas broke the tension... we were in one of the final scenes of our second and a half run through, and Thomas came out with his wig completely sideways, missing a boob and one boot and casually posted up all sultry on one of the side rails of the stage and simply said “how you doin’” at which point the director dropped her clipboard and called it a night. Everyone was laughing so hard we cried and somehow we made it through every performance without even the slightest of hiccups. We even won a few awards for our city’s high school version of the Tony’s. I’ll never trade those moments and all the laughter for anything. The best being singing Bobemian Rhapsody with all 103 of the cast, orchestra, stage crew, and tech while we striked set Saturday night. There’s not much like standing in a room with 100 of your new best friends knowing the pay-off of the month of work you just did. It was exhilarating.

And that’s it for my memories. Today was notoriously good and I’m surprised I remember as much as I do. Sometimes time hop breaks my heart, but then you get days like today where some of your best memories come from and it’s hard not to skip down memory lane. I like the little reminders that it’s not all bad. There’s good even when I tend to forget it.

[latenightscribbles13]

I need to take up boxing (pt. 2)

In my mind, I revisit the day we first met. It was around seven months ago, in December. I will never forget that December, as it was the worst one I have ever experienced. I had only just moved here a few months prior to that, so I didn’t really know much people. Everything and everyone was so different from what I was used to. I missed my family, and my friends. I missed the sort of carelessness that only a college student can embody. I haven’t been home in a while. I went to study abroad straight out of high school, but it was much closer to my home, and the flights were pretty cheap, so I could visit whenever. Nonetheless, I though this transition would be easier for me, since I had been more or less independent for years. I studied film production, while doing some extra courses for directing. It was my dream to become involved with film creating in any way. Since I was too shy to act, I decided to take on behind-the-camera work. I applied to many prestigious film schools, but I somehow ended up in a school with much less reputation and recognition. Despite all that, I had the best time there, and learned a lot. I filmed various projects throughout the years, and I thought I was doing pretty well, considering. However, graduation came, and along with it, the cutthroat competitions for any decent jobs. Since I didn’t have any connections or fancy schools on my resume, you can imagine how all of that went. I ended up in a shady company, that didn’t seem to have much work, so I would usually sit around all day, make coffee, browse through useless paperwork, and wonder where it all went wrong. Then, the production director walked up to me one day, and offered me a “dream-come-true internship”. In a country on the other side of the world. I weighed my options, and since I had virtually nothing to lose, I got on the plane, and landed in … A big, hot mess. The internship was put on hold, since the budget had been exhausted before the filming even began, so we had to wait for more investors. Meaning: it was a gone deal. One of the staff that I befriended through shared misery and rivers of alcohol, told me her brother can get us a both a job on the radio. It wouldn’t be much but it would at least be something. So, with tears of gratitude in my eyes, I accepted her offer, before passing out on the bar table.

I went from a film PD assistant to a radio PD assistant. I must admit, on my first day, I was pretty excited. It couldn’t possibly be any worse than the jobs I had before. I confidently walked into the radio broadcasting station … And got blocked by the security. My name wasn’t on the employees’ list yet, and I could barely speak the language. Typical. Luckily, my friend came in in that very moment, and resolved the whole misunderstanding. I was more nervous, than before, but a little relieved that I had her by my side. Until I found out she would be the PD assistant, and I would be her assistant. So I was PD’s assistant’s assistant. How about that for the resume points, eh? I didn’t sweat it too much, though. It only meant I would make the coffee in the staff room, and she would be the one to take it to the boss. They made me do the usual menial jobs, such as cleaning, food delivery, escorting the guests in and out of the station, bringing toilet paper when somebody went to do their business without checking the stock first. The usual errands.

By the end of my first day, I was exhausted, and contemplated homicide. The target didn’t matter. To relief my frustration, I began violently scrubbing a coffee mark on the floor that must’ve been there for ages, since it wouldn’t budge, no matter how hard I tried. So I scrubbed even more aggressively, imagining it was my ex boss’s face, my current boss’s face, my face.  It must’ve been a pretty nasty sight, me on my knees, hair coming out of the ponytail on all sides, face flushed and contorted in rage.

And that’s when we first met. He came into the staff room, looking all fresh, his hair soft and shiny, face as smooth as baby’s bottom, smelling like an angel. It was hate at first sight.  He greeted me politely, and I must’ve literally snarled back, since he quickly retreated out of the room. The last thing I heard was him whispering to his friend: “Where happened to the other cleaning lady?” I got up and hurled the dirty rag into the closing door, wishing it would hit him straight into that stupid clean face.

In the next few days, I got used to doing all the little things that nobody else would do. They wouldn’t assign me to any projects, since I didn’t speak the language, but my friend managed to get me a spot on the team that was developing an international corner for the weekend program. Finally, something! I would work with them, while still running errands for the PD, and anyone who thought I could more work. So one night, when we wrapped up the research for the international corner, the team leader invited us all for some drinks and karaoke. How could I refuse? But first, I had to clean up the mess we had made so I told him I would meet them later. Just as I was going through the door, the delivery guy shoved a bag of fried chicken and sodas in my hand, and drove off. What the hell?

Luckily, there weren’t many people left at the station, only the nighttime program staff and DJs. I sighed, and rushed back to the umpteenth floor to deliver the food, and hopefully, a clear message about our future arrangements. When I got up there, I simply walked up to every person, pointing at the food. I began learning the language diligently, but at that time, I wasn’t in the mood to practice my newly acquired skills. However, everybody simply shook their heads and got back to work. So helpful. Finally, one guy smiled broadly, nodding and thanking me, while reaching for the bag.

“I believe that’s mine,” a soft voice purred behind me. I recognized that voice immediately. I always listened to it on my way home from work or when I was lying in bed. It was one of our nighttime DJs, and I had a tiny crush on him, even though I haven’t seen him in person yet. There was just something about the smoothness his voice that comforted me and made me feel at home in this big, lonely city. When I turned around, I was excited and nervous, at the same time. Then, my mouth fell open. And the mood turned somewhat sour. It was no other than the dude who thought I was a cleaning lady. He was smiling broadly, almost blinding me with his perfect set of teeth. This wasn’t happening.

“Y-you?” I stuttered, still in shock.

He looked at me funnily, snatching the bag out of the guy’s hands. “Yeah, since I paid for it, it’s probably mine.” I was still pretty flabbergasted, so I just stood there, looking at him in disbelief. I mean. He looked pretty young. And there was something about him that annoyed me. I couldn’t put my finger on it. Maybe it was simply because he caught me in my meltdown frenzy the other night, and I was embarrassed. The dude who tried to cheat me out of the fried chicken, has already gone to the other room, probably out of disappointment.

“So, this is your other part time job?”

“Sorry?” I snapped back into the present moment, trying to understand what he was saying to me, even though he spoke English.

“I’m asking if this is your other part time job. You know, besides cleaning?” I couldn’t tell if he was being serious or was just fucking with me. He seemed like the type that always smile, and you can never be sure whether it’s genuine or they’re mocking you.

I took a deep breath to calm myself, and replied as nicely as I could, “Actually, I am not a cleaning lady, nor am I delivering fried chicken. I just happen to bag all the dirty work around here. I’m the PD’s assistant, if you must know.” I don’t know why I was being so defensive. Like cleaning or delivering would be a bad thing. Apparently, I was way more insecure than I would have myself believe. I didn’t like that.

He sensed my hostility, and used a friendlier tone this time. “Oh, sorry, I had no idea. Nice to meet you.” He stretched out his free hand, and I reluctantly shook it. A minute later, he was back it. “Although, isn’t Hanna the PD’s assistant?”

I widened my eyes threateningly, and hissed through my teeth. “Mhm. I am actually her assistant.”

“So you’re the assistant’s assistant?”

I still couldn’t read his face, but I decided he was making fun of me on purpose, so I flashed him a tiny smile, hopefully an obviously fake one, and turned around to walk out the door. I paused at the threshold, turning back to him. “Next time, get your own food so your coworkers don’t try to steal it.”

He snorted, trying to hold back laughter. “Actually, I think the poor man thought you were treating him to some delicious chicken. Maybe he was hoping to eat it with you. Well, next time, I guess.” He winked, and shamelessly walked to back to his booth.

I closed my eyes, trying to reach the zen state of peace and control of oneself. After a minute of unsuccessful deep breaths and happy thoughts, I smashed my fist into the doorframe, and walked out.

I need to take up boxing.

[cartoonfangirl1218]

Just like Fire ch. 3

"And all the people say! You can't wake up, this is not a dream. You're part of a machine, you are not a human being. With your face all made up, living on a screen. Low on self esteem, so you run on gasoline" - Halsey (Gasoline)

"Uh who are you?" Claire asked. She had spent two months of boredom in the Center already and today she had opened the door to her dorm room and standing in front of it was a tall man in a dark black suit with penetrating brown eyes.

"You may call me, Kurt, I want to us to be friends," the man said flanked by two guys that looked like agents and the Director.

"Claire, Kurt is from the government. He is very interested in you, and would like to help you control and use your powers." The Director said, unusually fidgety.

"My powers.."

"To help the government. You would be doing is a big favor. Saving lives, making the world a better place. You'll be our secret weapon against our enemies." Kurt smiled broadly.

"I'm only 13.” Claire said, sitting on her bed. She disliked the way "Kurt" was staring at her. She knew it was probably stupid, but the guy made her uncomfortable. He was too suave, too friendly to be a government agent.

"Never too young to start serving your country." Kurt chirped.

"Um, we already signed you up,” the Director continued. 

"You what?" Claire's amber eyes blazed angrily. She already had been sign to this place without her permission, she wasn't going to the government too!

"Well you seemed so bored here. I.. I thought you would like a little work. Be useful." Director stammered looking between her and Kurt, “Kurt is very eager to start, and the program is all going to be focused on you."

"We're calling it, Project Firestorm" Kurt announced proudly.  "Please," Director leaned closer to her "Trust me."

Claire bristled. Last time she trusted someone, her parents, they left her.

But she did like the Director somewhat. He never yelled at her when she got frustrated and burn the furniture, or when she got in a fight with a kid that used his telekinesis to hit her with a cup and always let her stop testing when she asked, and use her free time to watch tv.

Besides it's not like she had anything else to do here.

"Okay, I'll do it.” 

The Director beamed happily at Kurt and Kurt smiled at her. He lead her to a limo outside.

"Driver, take her to headquarters. I'll meet you later, Claire, I need to settle conditions with the the Director." Kurt said. 

Claire looked absentmindedly out the car. She had no idea what she was getting into, she was slightly nervous but she tried to calm down. A whole program dedicated to her. And Project Firestorm sounded like such a cool name.

Once the car stopped, the driver led her to a dirty warehouse, but the inside was a different story. The place was gleaming white, the hallway seemed a mile long with what seemed like thousands of rooms on each side with scientists and other smart people rushing around.

"Go to the first room on the left" the driver nodded and left her alone so she did as she was told and walked to a empty room.

There stood a scientist with a silver suit. He was thin, rigid and reminded Claire of an icicle. Sounded like one too, cracked and screechy.

"So you're our new weapon. Hmm.." He looked her up and down, examining her faded "I love rock n roll" shirt and jeans.

"Uh me? I...I um. Sure. I guess so. Yes, yes I am. Claire Selton." Claire mumbled, holding out her hand. 

He ignored her hand, "Forget your old name, know what forgot your entire life. From now on your name is Volcana." the man said. 

Claire felt panicky by what the guy was saying: Forget her life? "Um excuse me. What do you mean about forgetting my life?"

"Use your powers" he continued on as if she hadn't spoken "The Director said you could do a lot. Do it. Everything you know.” 

"I thought you wanted me to forget"

She felt a sharp slap on her cheek, "Don't test me." The man hissed "Use your powers"

Normally she would have set the guy's clothes on fire for daring to hit her, but he was under Project Firestorm. Everyone here was. She didn't feel she should argue right now. So she just did as she was told. From the first trick of setting the floor on fire to the fire breathing she had been practicing yesterday. "Your files didn't lie. You do I have a tremendous aptitude for this,” He murmured sagely.

"My files?" The man glared at her, as if he would like to take off her mouth.

“The Center has everyone on file. And since we help support it, they let us see the files for any meta humans we can use for our projects" he rattled on as if he told this to people every day. "Now Volcana, have you ever killed someone?" Claire paused a little unsettled by the new name and the question before answering "No.”

"Well I would like you to try to kill this dummy. With your powers. Burn it to the ground. Blast it with a fireball. Your choice.”  Two scientist wheeled out a test robot the size of a man.  "Go!” Icicle man commanded.  Claire hesitated for a second but decided to blast with a fireball. The robot sailed a few feet back before flopping on the ground, sparking uselessly, in ashes. 

They pulled out several more robots, some that moved, some that shot at her. But all fell to the same death by fire. 

Then the wheeled out a real man. He looked average. Cropped blonde hair, broad shoulders, average height. But he was tied to a chair and gagged. Terrified. He kept shaking his head, moving desperately and sweating. 

"Kill him.” 

"I..I can't. He's just a guy.. I couldn't" Claire shook her head, feeling faint at the sight. She couldn’t think of anything, no fire, just the poor man’s terrified eyes.  "He's a enemy of the state!" The man pulled her hair back and slapped on a shiny black collar.  "Every time you disobey orders, you get a severe electrical shock," the man casually informed.

Claire felt a pain go through her system, hard, burning and fast. She fell to the ground, screaming. 

"And I will continue to shock you until you do your job." the man said calmly as the shock wore off and she got to her knees panting "Now kill him.” 

Before she could answer, she knelt to the ground, screaming in pain as the shock burned more near her throat, she felt like she was losing air. 

Once it wore off, she thought about the man. Burning, burning in the chair, engulfed in flames. She slowly opened her clenched eyes and forced herself to see the reality. 

The man screaming, knocking the chair and himself to the ground until he stopped moving. The scientists used water to douse him. Claire could see the body, scarred and burned beyond recognition, and threw up. 

"Get it together!" The man screamed "You are a weapon, Volcana. You're going to be killing a lot of people from now on. Get use to it and focus!!" "I don't want to!” 

"Ugh useless." The man groaned, "Show her the discipline room, she better see what happens before she thinks of misbehaving." 

The scientist drag Claire to the discipline room, Claire tried to stand but still wanted to stop and throw up. 

The man, the poor poor man. The locked her into a chair in front of a bucket of water. One scientist stood behind her and another stood in front of her with a fire extinguisher pointed at her face. Then sprayed the retardant. 

The foam got into her nose and eyes and mouth and she felt the burning sensation in her neck again. The air in her throat disappearing fast and none was coming in. Just foam. She hacked and breathed desperately, when her face was shoved into the water. 

The coma came off but he held her there. The burning in her lungs burned more and she felt her heart pump furiously. 

"I'm going to die." she thought, "They're trying to kill me.”

The man lifted her head out of the water, letting her gasp for oxygen when she got sprayed again. 

This repeated over and over until Claire felt she was going to faint again. She was brought up to air once more and saw Kurt sitting in front of her now. "What the hell?" She screamed, "I don't understand. I thought I was going to help you. Not kill people!" 

"You are helping by killing people. You are our weapon now." Kurt said, patronizingly patting her head.  "But I don't want to.”

"You will. Claire, your abilities are magnificent and we must use it to our advantage." Kurt insisted, his voice self assured that she would do what he said. And a sucking feeling in Claire’s stomach told her he was right.  But she wouldn’t without a fight.  "But I don't want to be called Volcana or be disciplined or shot at or....." 

"Claire, YOU don't understand. You are better than most meta-humans and thus you are better than humans. You don't need to be lowered to their standards. You shouldn't want to. You are above them. You are a weapon. And you shall be treated as such here. So those things you had before like family, entertainment, and such. You don't actually need them. All you need is your mission and our commands. You don't need humans and humans don't want you.” 

His voice changed from its confident tone to a softer one, “The Director mentioned that your parents left you for that, correct?" 

Claire stiffened, annoyed by the traitorous lump in her throat.  "Cadmus wants you. We want you. We do. So listen to us. Trust us. This will be your new life." 

[godsavetheq]

1-30 c;

*GALE FORCE SIGH COMES IN FROM CENTRAL PENNSYLVANIA*

1: Do you try to stay away from walkthroughs?

Yes. I want to win through my own merit. But I need that old ass game guide magazine for Perfect Dark because I want to unlock all the things and beat all the things (Perfect Dark will be a recurring theme from start to finish so buckle up)

2: Company you're always loyal to?

For consoles, Sony for the most part. XBox is the devil. But I do most of my gaming on PC these days. 

For games, the Creative Assembly (which makes the Total War series of grand military strategy games). Although my loyalty is being tested because their cranking out fantasy Warhammer: Total War games like hotcakes now, presumably because their SEGA corporate overlords like the money they’re making off them. Though apparently they have a separate team that’s pretty far into developing the next historical Total War game so I’ll come back around when that comes out, probably.

3: Best game you've ever played?

What a hard question. You know I have 111 games in my Steam library? We’ll say 100 because some of those are like expansions of other games or test servers of WIP games. So 100 games just on PC, plus god knows how many PS1, PS2, PS3, PS4, N64, GameCube, and Wii games I’ve played. It comes to a point where I can’t objectively single out one game from all of my favorites, so I’ll take “best” as meaning like highest production quality and best execution of the game, and I’ll hand it to Resident Evil 7. So professional, so fun... so Shoney’s.

4: Worst game you've ever played?

Shower With Your Dad Simulator 2015. Yes that’s a real game, it costs like $1 and someone bought it for me on Steam and it is the simplest, stupidest game that it probably belonged on a free online game site to justify its existence in some way.

5: A popular series/game you just can't get into no matter how much you try?

Well there’s a lot of popular games that I can’t get into, but that’s partially because I’ve internalized that I hate them without having given them much of a chance (looking at you, Dota, League of Legends, Overwatch (Or as we in the trade call it, “$40 Team Fortress 2″))

But now that I think of it, World of Warcraft. I got my free trial and played it some with Perry & Good Old Boys™ from Steam, but I just did not enjoy myself. I also had a prejudice against this one before I played it but at least I tried it and confirmed that I didn’t like it.

6: A game that's changed you the most?

Fallout series I guess. Kind of got me into post-apocalyptic stuff, RPGs and the like. Kind of opened the door for fantasy for me somewhat. I generally don’t like fantasy and I like to make the distinction between sci-fi and fantasy to justify my liking Fallout but truthfully half of the shit in Fallout is too over-the-top to qualify as like realistic fiction. Still haven’t played Skyrim because it’s too fantasy, but I’d at least consider it because it’s not all that different from Fallout if I’m willing to excuse the magic and shit.

7: A game you'll never forget?

Surgeon Simulator. What a titan of ridiculously clunky medical malpractice. 

The Stanley Parable because that game messes with you and is comedy gold

POSTAL 2 because rarely does a game execute low-quality production and lack of taking itself seriously so beautifully 

Hotline Miami because it fucks with you even worse than the Stanley Parable. I mean seriously, what a rollercoaster ride of mental fuckery. Am I a good guy? Am I a bad guy? All I know for sure is I’m killing a copious amount of Russian mobsters while masked figures in my head whisper nonsense at me and everywhere I go I see my dead best friend and........

Rollercoaster Tycoon (the old one for like Windows 98) because muh childhood

Destroy All Humans! 2 because they just don’t make any alien games that compare to it. Also muh childhood.

KHOLAT because it’s like a clinic in how to do horror right. And it came out at a time when it was a sad time to be a horror fan because Resident Evil was all “hurr durr our games need to be like Call of Duty” and there were no new Silent Hill, Outlast, or Slender games coming out. Of course eventually Resident Evil got good again, Outlast 2 came out, Silent Hills was SUPPOSED to come out (RIP)

Kerbal Space Program. I held out on this one for so long because I was turned off by the little green alien people and I figured it wasn’t serious. But holy fuck it’s actually like the best simulation of running a space program and designing rockets and shit oh my god like they train Astronauts with that game no lie.

8: Best soundtrack?

Slender: The Arrival. Honorable mentions go to Hotline Miami and Supreme Ruler: Cold War

9: A game you turn your volume off every time you play it?

None

10: A game you've completely given up on?

Five Nights at Freddy’s, like, all of them. I can’t beat all of the levels in any of them. I beat the five nights in the original FNaF but not the edgy sixth night. Didn’t even get that far in the second or third. Kinda lost track of which is which too...

11: Hardest game you've played?

Fucking Perfect Dark. I’ve been playing that game effectively for my entire conscious life and only just this summer have I begun to win A FEW levels on Perfect Agent difficulty. For context, I beat the entire game on Special Agent difficulty years ago, but at the time, I could not even beat the first level on Perfect Agent. 

12: Shortest time you've beaten a game in?

When I got GTA V for Christmas several years ago I did almost nothing but play it all day every day and beat it in a few days.

13: A game you were the most excited for when it wasn't released yet?

Probably Total War: Rome II. Honorable mentions go to Saurian, Resident Evil 7, Silent Hills (RIP)

14: A game you think would be cool if it had voice acting?

I dunno, I feel like most games that SHOULD have voice acting DO have voice acting. Nothing comes to mind.

15: Which two games do you think would make an awesome crossover?

I got nothing.

16: Character you've hated most? From what game?

I have to do it. Ashley from Resident Evil 4. I don’t care if you are the President’s daughter, you are useless and annoying.

17: What game do you never tell people you play?

I mean, games that I don’t like I guess.

18: A game you wish your friends knew about?

I got nothing, my friends know about most such things.

19: Which game do you think deserves a revival?

Spore, 100%. Nobody before or since has saw to completion a game where you literally design your own organism from a microscopic sea creature, evolving onto land, gaining sentience, building a civilization, uniting your planet and pushing out into space to build a space empire. It deserves to be remade, and done right this time.

20: What was the first video game you ever played?

The first REAL video game was GTA 3, but I may have played something stupid before that.

21: How old were you when you first played a video game?

I dunno, young.

22: If you could immerse yourself in any game for one day, which game would it be? What would you do?

Kerbal Space Program. I’d finally make that manned mission to Duna (Mars), baby. It has eluded me for so long, and to see it with my own eyes... 10/10

23: Biggest disappointment you've had in gaming?

Rome Total War - Alexander expansion. It seemed like such a simple thing. Make an expansion for Rome Total War about Alexander’s Empire. It was the most pitiful thing I’d ever seen. I mean, I know the original Rome Total War is old as dirt, but the base game and the Barbarian Invasions expansion were pretty good.

24: Casual, Hardcore, or in the middle?

In the middle. I tryhard sometimes and just fuck around other times.

25: Be honest; have you ever used cheats (like ActionReplay or Gameshark)?

I mean... do the cheats in GTA 3 count that spawn a bunch of guns and tanks for you? I didn’t use them to beat the game, I just wanted to fuck around because that’s the best way to play GTA 3 :P

26: Handheld or console?

Given those choices, console. Never was too into handhelds after Gameboy Advance. I had a DS Lite and was into Scribblenauts on that for a while, but since then, nah.

27: Has there ever been a moment that has made you cry?

Don’t think so, but it hit me in the feels when John Marston got killed by the crooked wild west cops in Red Dead Redemption.

28: Which character's clothes do you wish you owned the most?

The only thing that comes to mind is Trent Easton from Perfect Dark because he has like a fucking red velvet suit and it’s so ridiculous like he’s the head of the NSA you’d think he’d wear a black suit but no, bright red. I’ll take 20.

29: Which is more important, gameplay or story?

Don’t make me choose. Depends on the game I guess. I like Perfect Dark despite the fact that its storyline is an incoherent mess. Try to follow along.

It involves a plot between Cassandra de Vries, owner of a shady arms manufacturing corporation with private paramilitaries on the march in every corner of their corporate HQ as well as all over the city streets (I, too, voted for Trump so that he could legalize corporate-owned private armies) that also has a massive underground research lab hidden inconspicuously under the city of Chicago; Trent Easton, the fashionable Director of the National Security Agency, whose goons start shooting up Air Force One in a plot to kidnap and clone the President of the United States, and a mysterious tall blonde man known only as Mr. Blonde who wears evil clothes and, unbeknownst to the other two conspirators, is a massive alien dinosaur thing that sounds like a jaguar in disguise who eventually kills both of them once they’re no longer useful. But don’t worry! The plot to give the dinosaur aliens a super-weapon fails when some guy sends his on-staff professional mass-murderer to go kill endless corporate militias and NSA agents to get to the bottom of it with the help of a flying laptop that has developed a moral code and a different race of aliens who look much less impressive. Or something. So that game makes a compelling case against storyline, but in other cases it’s not so XP

30: A game that hasn't been localized in your country that you think should be localized?

Everything that I care about is localized to the US.

[renaroo]

Recovery None (59/61)

Disclaimer: Red vs Blue and related characters are the property of Rooster Teeth. Warnings: Language, Canon-typically violence, Psychological torture & manipulation, Mentions of gore, Character death, Minor Sexual content Pairings: Yorkalina, Chex Rating: T Synopsis: [Canon Divergence AU] When the Mother of Invention crashed, Project Freelancer was in shambles, its surviving agents scattered, its equipment stolen, and an impending investigation into the crash from the UNSC was on the horizon. To regain control of the deeply corrupted program, the Director established a new unit from his remaining supplies – the Recovery Unit.

Three former Freelancers were chosen for particular tasks: Zero is to hunt down and destroy the Meta, One is to investigate and recover stolen or missing equipment, and Two is to take down AWOL former agents.

Of course, no one’s motivations are what they seem…

A/N: I have been in a very tough place in my life between updating these chapters, and for that I cannot apologize to all of you and thank you for your patience enough. This story means so very, very much to me, as you all can imagine, and having your support and love through all of this has made both writing this fic and getting out this chapter in a rough time possible. So just... thank you all so much. We’re almost there. 

Special thanks to @analiarvb, @notatroll7, @secretlystephaniebrown, @xhauntedangel, @icefrozenover, @every-survival, LinniLotus, Yin, and @a-taller-tale for the feedback!

Recovery One XVIII: Lying in Pieces

So out of curiosity, are you carrying me over your shoulder out of some low key aggression that’s satisfied to treat me like a sack, or are you trying to save my fragile masculinity by not going full bridal position here?

“You’re an artificial intelligence, Church, you don’t have any masculinity. Just numbers. And annoyance,” Tex informed him as they raced down the halls of the MOI -- racing past memories and horrors and everything in between.

Perhaps it was an act of rare mercy for them that they didn’t have time to stew and reflect on everything around them and what horrific truths they must have meant for them both. 

Maybe. Almost. 

I guess I’m just more surprised you’re bothering to carry it around at all, Church clarified. I’m not really, y’know, using it or anything. 

Tex felt herself scowl as she ignored him and continued forward toward the fight that was sure to come. “Church, we’re not one entity. We’re not one person. Even if at one time we were -- if that’s truly what we were before either of us can even remember that as a possibility -- there’s no way we can be that again now. We’re different. We’ve grown. We’ve had experience outside of ourselves.”

So? Church asked. Didn’t stop the program from shoving tiny pieces of me into completely different people. 

Shaking her head, Tex couldn’t even believe he’d bring that up. “That’s not been working out so great.”

I’ll need citations on that claim, Church said with a scientifically pompous air about him.

“We’re about to go face your ugly side that’s trying to kill everyone you’ve made friends with over the past year, asshole. What more evidence do you need exactly?” she asked critically.

Tex, I’m just trying to say, we’re a part of each other now and it’s stupid to pretend that I’m going to be jumping back into my own skin -- so to speak -- again any time soon. He paused, a little awkwardly. Like I hate to bring this up, but I’m not entirely sure I know... how to untangle us at this point either. Look, I’m new to this whole numbers-and-code thing.

Annoyed, Tex kicked down an obstructing door. “You’re actually not. You’re not new to it at all. That’s part of the problem. And for the record, I never said I was carrying around this husk of a body for you.”

The door she kicked down clattered on the ground and left them staring forward at Caboose who was innocently staring right back before happily waving. 

“Hey, Tex! Glad you found Church! Did you see the little Church man? I’m going to feed him crackers.”

If you let him see me like this I swear to god I’ll delete both of us.

Tex smirked. “Don’t make promises you don’t intend to keep.”

“Okay!” Caboose replied readily. 

Fucksake Church groaned in what attempted to pass as annoyance but radiated through Tex like affection.

“Caboose, our friends need help,” she explained to him.

“Oh no! We need to go!” Caboose announced before hesitating. His head tilted. “Tucker isn’t one of those friends is he? I don’t know about saving Tucker...”

“I don’t... was Tucker even on the camera feed?” Tex asked.

No. Which is its own problem to sort out for later, Church answered nonchalantly. 

“It’s Wash and some of the Reds,” Tex translated. 

“Agent Washington!?” Caboose gasped. “Let’s go help--”

Before the words were finished escaping Caboose’s mouth, there was a rush of air past them. Caboose even wavered on his feet unsteadily. 

“What was that?” Caboose asked, looking after the direction of the gust of wind. 

“The doors opened. Our friends are outside,” Tex answered.

“Right! Go help--” Caboose began to rush forward but Tex grabbed his shoulder to keep him back for a moment.

“Caboose, I want to give you a special job,” she explained.

“Oh?” Caboose asked back.

“I want you to help the white guy,” Tex explained. “Being on the receiving end of your help before has taught me that this is the best course of action we have.”

I double that assessment, Church muttered.

“I’m going to help, Tex!” Caboose assured her. “And then we’re all going to help little Church eat crackers. It’s gonna be great!”

Tex glanced to her shoulder where Church’s body was still hanging over it while Caboose ran for the exit. 

A small, white projection of Church appeared where she was looking. “What? I can feel you smirking.”

“Well, you asked what I was carrying you around for, right?” she asked mischievously. “Now I’m going to show you how you’re going to help us out.”

“Fuck, this is going to make me pissed, isn’t it?” Church groaned. 

As he lived and breathed, it was Maine. 

Washington stared at his former teammate, utterly struck by the fact that yet another Freelancer had come falling into his already crowded and confusing life, shocked by how his old life and new seemed to be consistently at odds. 

And by the fact that apparently Maine had just saved them by ripping Wyoming’s implants violently from his head. 

Which left a lot of questions, but mainly what side was Maine on. 

Slowly raising to his feet, Washington maintained a certain wariness. There was something just inconceivably wrong with the bulky way that Maine moved, with the snarling and huffing that was coming from him that was utterly different from what Wash had known before.

He knew Maine had been a high priority target of the Recovery team -- so high that Wash had not been granted permission to go after him even by the time that whole dynamic fell apart. But he had not received in depth briefings. 

All he knew was that Maine supposedly killed Carolina in the final raid on the Mother of Invention.

But now he knew that Carolina was far from dead. 

“My god, none of us know how to communicate,” he surmised in horror before looking over to York. “Have you got some answers for this!? Good ones?”

“No,” York yelled back. “Just the kind that super suck now that he has another AI and Wyoming’s enhancement.”

Eye twitching in irritation, Wash all but threw up his arms. “Right there! You just screamed out like three things that are need-to-know information that I have absolutely no context for!”

York shook his head and then looked at Wash. “Would you stop screaming at me every three minutes!? Holy fuck, how does your voice reach that high anyway?”

“I believe it’s inferior Blue genetics at play,” Sarge stage whispered. 

“I hate all of you!” Wash hissed.

“We KNOW!” York and the two Reds yelled harmoniously. 

“Jesus this is a shit show and we’re all going to die and I don’t even know what for,” Simmons bemoaned as Maine turned toward them all.

“Okay, fine, everyone, I’ll give you the short and sweet version!” York ground out. “That guy is Maine. He used to be a Freelancer. He got an AI. Now he gets his jollies by going around, killing the rest of us, stealing our AI and equipment, and adding them to his collection. He’s the one who fucked me over real good and took Delta.”

Washington scowled at York. “How is any of that remotely true? That doesn’t sound like Maine at all!”

“Keep up, Wash, that’s not Maine anymore, it’s the Meta, and that’s exactly what he does because I’ve been on the receiving end of it already! Not to mention what he did to Carolina,” York ground out.

“Or what he did just now in front of us,” Simmons piped up. “Not saying I know who this guy is, but we did just see him rip something out of a guy’s spine who was regularly kicking our asses beforehand.”

“Yeah, that, too,” York nodded.

Angrily, Wash clutched his rifle. “Keep up!? How the fuck am I supposed to keep up!? I feel like I have, at most, a third of the information right now and you’re asking me to keep up? Seriously? How about you stop wasting time and tell me how the hell we’re supposed to beat this thing?”

“I don’t know!” York answered. “I just fight it and lose all the time. Why do you think I look like I went through ten rounds with a can opener!?”

“You’re useless!” Wash screeched.

“We’re all each other’s got!!!” York yelled back.

“NO!” Wash said with exaggerated waving toward Sarge and Simmons. “We’re not!”

York paused for a moment before looking to Sarge. “Sir?”

“You have permission to speak, Red Team Freelancer,” Sarge replied cheerfully.

“Right, that’s getting a touch old. Anyway,” York said before turning his own shotgun around so that the butt was facing Sarge. “Would you do me the honor of testing out your new invention? Seeing as how we’re both men of tastes when it comes to our weapons.”

Even through armor, Wash could tell Sarge had never appeared more delighted in his life. 

“What are you doing?” Wash demanded as Maine’s hulking form turned its attention toward the Mother of Invention.

“Our mutual friends in there are next on the menu for obvious reasons,” York pointed out. He then looked seriously toward Wash. “And I’m tired of friends feeling we didn’t do everything in our power to save them.”

There was something tight and painful in Wash’s chest. But, being an expert at ignoring such things thanks to Blue Team at that point, he elected to point at York warningly. “Actions speak louder than words.”

“Then I think it’s time for some action,” York chuckled.

“You get fucking one liners, too!?” Simmons bemoaned.

Washington wanted nothing more than to join Simmons in the disbelief of the moment, but loathe as he was to admit it, York was right, and Maine -- or whatever he had become -- was going straight for the Mother of Invention.

And if there was anything Wash had learned recently it was that anything with that sort of focus on death and destruction had to be heading straight toward Blue Team. 

“What are we doing here?” Wash asked York snappishly.

"We’re putting a wall between the ship and the Meta,” York announced. “I think I can get in close as long as I have cover fire, but basically I just need to round all of us toward those cliffs as much as we can and let me in -- hopefully the Sergeant wasn’t exaggerating about the modifications he put into this gun.”

“Stop calling him the sergeant, he’s just Sarge!” Wash corrected.

York gave an incredulous look in Wash’s direction and shook his gun. “Wash, for fucking real here, are you going to play ball? Alright, I’ve fucked up in the past, but this thing’s going to kill Carolina if it gets a hold of her -- and Tex, too, if you’re right and she’s in there. They already killed Dee. I’d like to get some payback.”

Wash huffed heavily in through his helmet. He absolutely did not appreciate York making any sort of sense. 

But he definitely was. 

“Simmons,” Wash called out, looking to the maroon soldier. “Do you think you can get a line of communication between us and Blood Gulch by using the teleporter?”

Surprised, Simmons stood up straight and shifted in the snow. “I mean, hypothetically it should definitely be possible. It might take me an hour or two to fully reconfigure--”

“I’m going to give you ten minutes,” Wash replied plainly. 

“I can’t do that!” Simmons cried out in protest.

“No? Would you prefer to fight a renegade Freelancer with the rest of us?” Washington asked knowingly. “No? That’s what I thought. Get in contact with Blood Gulch and ask them to send in some able-bodied soldiers immediately. We need help.”

“We shouldn’t limit it to able-bodied if we need help from Blood Gulch,” Simmons pointed out. “That puts us down to... I guess the bodyguard--”

“Do not ask South to come!” York ordered.

“Absolutely tell South to come,” Wash contradicted. 

“She will shoot us in the back first chance she gets! Did you even bother asking her what happened to North!?” York cried out.

“Wouldn’t be the first time a Freelancer shot me in the back,” Wash said plainly. “Besides, she’s going to fight this... Meta over us.”

“How’d you know it was responsible for North?” York asked, amazed.

“I didn’t,” Wash replied, marching toward Sarge. “I just know know South prefers challenges.”

"You play a dangerous game, Agent Washington,” York mused.

“And you play dumb like the rest of the world can’t figure out you’re compensating for something,” Wash fired back. “Now are you going to move forward so I can give you that cover fire or not?”

“Youch,” York mocked before taking a deep breath and racing forward. “Yo! Meta!” Maine’s hulking form stopped momentarily, turning back, his domed helmet gleaning as a low snarl came out from him. “You and I have some unfinished business!”

Washington took aim and waited for the so-called Meta to make its move first, but as he lined up the shot he heard a distinctive sniffing and sobbing from behind him. He glanced over his shoulder and found Sarge wiping at his visor nonsensically.

“Are you crying?” Wash asked critically. 

“I just never thought that the Red Army would produce another soldier as ready to die for its glory as me,” Sarge said between gurgles. “I’m just glad to see the day that Red Team pride his vindicated. It’s like the son I wish I never had.”

“Stop talking, it makes my eye twitch and I need to aim,” Wash ordered.

For an infiltration expert, York had an amazing grasp of hand-to-hand. To the point that even through his anger, Wash was forced to give the man the respect he deserved. 

As the Meta lunged, York ducked below the wide swing and used its exposure to throw an elbow beneath the Meta’s ribs. His momentum carried and he swung around to behind the Meta where he kicked the Meta forward. 

When he watched the balance waver, Wash hesitated. It reminded him of the training room floor. Of a time when he called each of these men and women his teammates. When he didn’t think they could stab each other in the back for more than points on a scoreboard.

When a scoreboard seemed like it was worth stabbing in the back for. 

He stared down his scope and wondered if the Meta was any more a monster than Maine and Wash himself were then. More than any of them were willing to be then. 

And it was about then that Wash realized that he wasn’t saying any of those thoughts out loud but it might as well have been. He hadn’t progressed that much since Doc called him out on it--

“Watch your six, Freelancer!” Sarge yowled out before firing his shotgun right beside Wash, effectively pulling him out of his own existentialism. 

“Shit!” York cried before ducking down into the snow, allowing the Meta to be hit by the spray of buckshot. “That was my three!” he corrected.

"Son, I tend to like you, so I will give you an unprecedented warning about my feelings toward insubordination!” Sage howled out. 

Watching as the Meta spun around to face the source of his attack, Washington took a deep breath and aimed for the helmet before firing. The shot bounced off the protective alloy, but the force was still enough to knock it back. And it was also enough to make the Meta step back toward York once more in order to regain balance. 

Quick on his feet as always, York ducked down and pressed forward, shoulder first, for the back of the Meta’s knees, sending it barreling over himself and then rolling out of the path. 

“Take another shot, Wash!” York yelled.

“Don’t tell me what to do!” Wash yelled back before taking the shot with his rifle just as the Meta began to reach around with the brute shot. 

The Meta snarled again but once more was exposed for York, this time though it wasn’t a cheap shot the former Freelancer was throwing. Instead he took aim with Sarge’s modified shotgun and fired at the Meta’s abdomen -- right where the mesh and metal met. 

“That’ll look great for the Red Army recruitment montage!” Sarge declared.

Wash was almost impressed himself when he saw the Meta drop to one knee, brute shot out of hand. But before York was even on his feet, something drastically changed. 

A multitude of flickering sprites surrounded the Meta’s helmet and, without warning, the Meta became encapsulated in a dome shield.

“He has more modifications!?” Wash yelled out.

York looked back and gave a bodily shrug. “I knew he was collecting them but I wasn’t sure he had--”

“Well we didn’t know and you didn’t share!” Wash cried out. “How the hell were we supposed to know that?”

“Sorry, I’ve been busy being shot at and almost murdered lately, not standing around canyon bases drinking beer and having small talk!” York snapped back.

“There’s room for both!” Wash roared in frustration. “What the hell else can happen!?”

As if summoned, Simmons appeared. “Um, guys--”

“It better be good news,” Wash said flatly without even turning. “Which would be that you were able to contact the others even faster than I told you to.”

“Yeah, no, that’s still going nowhere,” Simmons informed him. “But the bodyguard chick did come through the portal for a minute.”

Wash’s eye began to twitch again. “For a minute?”

“Yeah, I told her what was happening and she said to hold up, then went back,” Simmons explained. “Um... Agent Washington... you seem... pretty unhappy.”

“I’m an emotional shell, Simmons. I don’t get unhappy anymore,” Wash warned. “I just anticipate the worst possible scenarios and find myself disappointed when things are worse than predicted.”

“Oh, hey, you trapped the white guy in a dome,” Simmons pointed out. “That’s pretty good. And now Tex is here.”

“What?” Wash asked before turning and seeing Tex’s familiar figure with a cobalt armor over her shoulder. His heart sunk in his chest as the Meta lowered the dome shield. “Oh, no.”

Tex took in the sight, more than a little shocked at just what a crowd had been gathered around the Meta. Washington, Sarge, Simmons, and--

Hey, that’s your friend, Church pointed out unhelpfully. Jersey or whatever.

It was an easy enough comment to ignore as she stepped out into the snow. “Holy shit. As I live and breathe, Agent York has joined my favorite gaggle of idiots.”

“Was that meant for me? Because I protest,” Wash said simply. “I am absolutely not with York. Or... an idiot. But that went without saying, which is why I didn’t bother -- you know what, just shut up and help us.”

“Shut up and help us, wow you really have become a Blue,” Tex snarked. “And now worry, help’s already here.”

While the Meta snarled, turning on its heels to take in the fact that it was surrounded, Caboose finally caught up with them at the entrance of the ship. He was holding the spike grenade that Tex had found for him. 

“I’m here to help!” Caboose cried out excitedly, flicking the grenade on.

This idea is stupid as fuck, for the record, Church commented.

Just as Caboose was lining up for the Meta, however, he saw Wash and let out a gasp. “Agent Washington! No one let me know that you were here! I would always help Agent Washington over any white guy.”

“Seriously, does no one else hear how that sounds?” York asked.

“We do, we just don’t care,” Simmons retorted.

“Caboose...” Wash said cautiously, eyeing the grenade.

“Caboose, help the right person,” Tex tried to warn. 

“Sure thing, Tex! And the right person to help is my friends!” Caboose yelled out before tossing the grenade straight into the wall beside Tex and Church. 

Everyone, including the Meta, stared for a moment. 

“That was the worst throw. Ever. Of all time,” Wash hissed. 

“Not my fault,” Caboose swore. “Someone put a wall in my way.”

Goddammit, Church bemoaned.

“Everyone down!” Carolina screamed from behind them before tackling both Tex and Caboose, taking them out of the way just before the grenade exploded -- sending shrapnel and snow flying out everywhere in an unseeable storm. 

“You came to help? What about the Director?” Tex asked Carolina. 

“What, like he has anywhere to go in that wreck?” Carolina asked. “I checked the sensors, looks like UNSC ships are on their way here. I made a tactical decision.”

"Was that tactical decision to see us all get arrested?” Tex questioned, gripping onto Church’s body’s wrist.

“That would be an added bonus,” she mocked before looking up. “But it’s more than that. This is about unfinished business. It’s about people I’ve used for my own means, and trying to make up for it. People like Maine.” She looked forward, watching as the Meta found itself upright again and began growling and snarling. “I had opportunity to stop him before. I had chances to reach out to him while I was a Recovery agent. And I didn’t. I let this happen. And it’s done nothing but hurt the people around me ever since.” She looked back meaningfully toward Tex. “And that’s just a little too much like him for my comfort.”

“Or mine,” Epsilon spoke up, appearing on her shoulder. “I... I think I’ve really hurt people in the past. I think it’s time we try to help them.”

Tex looked at them both critically. “Sounds noble enough,” she said stiffly.

Sounds stupid enough, too. Like yeesh, Church answered. 

“But I don’t think there’s anything left of Maine in there for you to apologize too. It’d be best if you let me punch him instead,” Tex pointed out. 

“Only after I’ve tried the... not punching route,” Carolina ordered before moving in toward the Meta. “Agent Maine! This is your commanding officer!” Carolina shouted, getting the creature’s attention. “That’s right, it’s me.”

It snarled and flexed out with the brute shot in its arms. 

Caboose, sitting up with his head tilted, looked toward Tex. “Um. Are we just going to sit here and watch the new Blue Lady do stuff?” Caboose asked. “Or am I still supposed to help?”

“You are definitely not helping!” Tex and Church said at once. 

“We’ve got our own plan, Caboose, sit tight,” Tex assured him before getting to her feet and racing toward where Carolina and the Meta were. 

Despite what they might have anticipated in response to Carolina’s diplomacy, the Meta actually had lowered his dome shield, looking warily toward Carolina as two AI swirled around its helmet -- bright yellow and turquoise.

“I’m not here to hurt you, I’m here to help,” Carolina continued to coax. 

The Meta hesitated for a moment before letting out a horrific roar, multiple AI appearing around its helmet at that time. 

“Carolina!” York called out from where the Reds and Wash had ended up, distracting the former Freelancer leader. 

“York!?” she cried out just before the Meta took a swing at her. Fortunately, her speed boost got her out of harm’s way but not without tripping her up and causing an awkward landing to her side. 

"Why do I ever open my mouth?” York bemoaned.

“Isn’t that the million dollar question we all keep asking ourselves,” Simmons griped.

Hey, Tex, not that I’m the one to be telling you how to hit things... but I can’t help but notice how Mister Tall-and-Growly-and-Hauntingly-Familiar seems a bit distracted at the moment to me. What’cha think? Church fired off.

“I’m thinking you read my mind, cheater,” Tex said, launching herself forward and toward the Meta, redirecting her grip of both of her hands to Church’s body’s left ankle. “Hey, AI conglomerate!” she cried out, turning the Meta around toward her. “Looking for someone?”

On cue, Church showed up over her shoulder. “Miss me?” he asked. 

Immediately the plethora of AI around the Meta’s helmet began swarming around, encircling over and over again as if all attempting to steal a glance as they released a disorganized muttering of “Alpha! Alpha! Alpha!” 

“Holy fuck this is creepy,” Church remarked shortly before Tex skidded to a halt right before the Meta and then took Church’s body into the full swing of her momentum. “Oh shit not the face!” 

Church let out a frighteningly high pitched scream as his body collided with the Meta’s helmet, shattering both of their visors. But Tex was far from done, taking the flailing, empty robotic body and continuing to beat the dazed and distracted Meta with it. 

Though it stumbled, the Meta seemed too stunned -- not wanting to attack either Tex or Church but also not wanting to create the dome shield again either. Which was fine with Tex because she could keep smacking him around for ages. 

Well, until the Meta had enough and grabbed Church’s arm, ripping it from the rest of the robot.

She then glared toward the others. “You all can get off your asses and help any time you want, y’know!?”

“Yeah, fuckers! We’re pulling our weight!” Church yelled. “Some of us literally!”

Washington was almost too stunned to move. He stared at the scene in complete shock. 

“What’s going on?” Sarge asked as York stumbled through the snow to meet Carolina half way. “What just happened? I want a full report!”

“From who? Me?  I have no fucking idea!” Simmons’ voice crackled.

“Maine... the Freelancer... he has all the missing AI fragments,” Wash answered, still working with the pieces himself. “They’re in a late state of Rampancy -- all of them -- the dying stages of an Artificial Intelligence. And they’ve unified somehow... looking for something... or someone,” he then looked to Tex’s shoulder where Church’s sprite shined brightly. “The Alpha... The AI that stated it all.”

“Great, hope they have fun finding him,” Sarge huffed. “We need to grab our Red Freelancer and skiddadle out of here. Doesn’t look like much of a fight for us.” He paused and then put a hand to his chin. “Though, technically, we still have that agreement with Texas.”

“Finding him?” Wash asked, turning on them. “You honestly still don’t get it. There’s no finding the Alpha, the Alpha is already here. He’s Church! Can’t you see that?”

“What? So you’re saying that those AI with the white guy are all pieces of this Alpha. And the Alpha is Church. And Church is being used by Tex to slap the white dude around?” Simmons tried to keep up.

“Yes,” Wash said simply. 

“Heh. The Blue’s hitting himself,” Sarge chuckled. 

“That doesn’t seem physically possible,” Simmons said, scratching at his helmet. 

“Yes, well, none of us seem to fall toward convention, do we?” Wash asked. He then glared at Simmons. “You said South was coming with reinforcements...”

“Oh, yeah, they are,” Simmons nodded. “They just have to figure out how to fit them through the portal first.”

Wash squinted. “What do you mean by fit?”

No sooner had the words left his mouth than there was a loud, crackling, booming sound in the distance, drawing all of their attention around the mountainside to where green electricity was dancing though the air.

“Wonderful,” Wash muttered. 

[peachwhorerant]

friday march 1, 2019

9:43 pm

i cried a lot today i wanted to cry in front of my mom i thought maybe it would help me feel better it honestly really hasnt i feel pretty bad about myself. she told me it was my fault for not applying to other programs that i have to grow up that crying isnt going to solve anything and that i have to move on. these arent my decisions to make? that its my fault if i dont do anything this summer? my parents are the reason im this way with stupid expectations of myself i actually think im smart sometimes or that im special and im so sick and tired of it

im so tired of never being good enough, that im forget-able im never anyones first choice im just the oh i guess so or she seems nice 

i got rejected by not only one but two summer programs do you know how pathetic i felt when the director went around the room telling the girls that had applied for girls state, talking about their summer plans, I felt worthless so humiliated and useless all of them, im just as qualified and capable but there i was easily dismissed and cast aside.

now i have to deal with my grades that exam likely brought my grade down a lot and all my other grades are falling, i feel so trapped and there are so many more things that i feel on my chest and in my heart but theyre just leaving me the minute i sit down to write. 

my dad called me and the two little ones into his room he gave us money gave us the speech about being the best about how hes going to prove to people he doesnt need a son he told us his goals and what he wants he told us that im not missing anything that there should be no excuses for being the best he just reminds me of how undeserving and ungrateful i am, here i am losing opportunites and not being good enough but i have everything i need to be the best and i just am not  love this feeling so much

ive gotten so good at pretending im not crying that my emotions change very quickly within minutes and i hate it