#I have to say this is a pretty accurate port sure there may be some issues but all in all it's amazing

[rosewind2007]

And now to Exit Strategy!

In Exit Strategy there are [8] uses of the word “rogue”.

[1] & [2] Page 9 “So now I was not only a rogue unit, I was a rogue unit carrying a weapon designed to shoot armored security. Which is just playing to the humans’ expectations, I guess.”

SecUnit kicking off with an early declaration of its status as a rogue unit. An armed one at that! It’s wryly ironic about it, “playing to the humans’ expectations”.

[3] Page 11 “I downloaded it and ran a query for the word SecUnit. It hit almost immediately.

SecUnit. You think this thing is really onboard?

Intel says possibly. I—

With its controller?

No controller, dim-iot, that’s why they call them rogues.

Oh yeah. It was about me.”

Hmm..interesting one here! Reference to a controller of a SecUnit. If we fast forward to Network Effect there is a handler for the augmented human assassins, but the idea of a controller? Combat bots in Rogue Protocol need them for doing anything complex (more complex than ‘attack everybody’), but SecUnits don’t (though, unlike Combat SecUnits, they’d usually need a supervisor to give permission to hack)…BUT where was I? Yeah: I guess we are supposed to understand these two know jack-shit about SecUnits? They think a rogue doesn’t have a controller. Normally a rogue is one without a working governor module, or one which is killing all the humans. Or do some SecUnits have controllers?

[4] Page 29 “SecUnits would be able to identify me as a rogue unit on sight (or on ping, more accurately) but we were never used on transit rings”

So Murderbot claims here that a SecUnit would identify it as a rogue “on ping”? Murderbot reckons its modifications courtesy of ART wouldn’t fool SecUnits—in fact it seems pretty sure a SecUnit would spot its rogue status immediately. So it can (given its four years with a borked governor module pre-All Systems Red) fool them that it’s a governed SecUnit (looks like a SecUnit and acts like one) but they’d spot it instantly if it tried to pretend to be an augmented human. I’m still a little puzzled that it says “on ping”’ as in Rogue Protocol it could ignore Miki’s ping, and it ignores the ComfortUnit’s ping in Artificial Condition. Or would the failure to respond to the ping be the giveaway?

[5] Page 62 “They weren’t bringing her. This had all been for nothing. All of it, Milu, Miki’s death, the trip here, everything. I said, “Milu was my idea. I’m a rogue unit.”

Murderbot is in a very emotional state here, and is perhaps internally identifying more with the idea of a rogue unit that it’s seen in the media than ever before.

[6] Page 62 “He ignored me, but he said to Pin-Lee, “A rogue unit would have left a trail of dead bodies across this station.”

I said, “Maybe I wanted the trail to start here.”

So here’s Serrat describing the cliché rogue SecUnit behaviour, the “Kill all the humans” rogue, leaving a trail of dead bodies. And Murderbot is actually feeling pretty inclined to for once play the part—luckily Mensah’s implant pings.

[7] Page 83 “(Who knows what GrayCris told them was happening to get the Port Authority to allow a SecUnit deployment. It probably involved me, Rogue SecUnit on a rampage.)”

So again, this rogue SecUnit on a rampage trope. Something none of our actual rogues (those without governor modules) ever seem inclined to do, rampage that is. Or “Kill all the humans”.

[8] Page 95 “Mensah finished glaring at me and turned around. The crew who had just watched her face down a rogue SecUnit, in person and via the powered armor’s helmet cam, stared wide-eyed. She said, “Since we are bonded clients, may we come aboard while we settle our bill?”

This is wonderful! Mensah has just stared down Murderbot, who (to be fair) has been pushed right to its limits. And what is adorable is that what actually very almost tips it into taking over the company gunship is the demand they pay a bond. After all it’s been through and the suffering it’s endured, what almost makes it snap is the company demanding a bond for bringing an unsecured deadly weapon (Murderbot) aboard an armed company transport. It’s being treated as a thing, by the company who are using this to hurt its clients financially: in Exit Strategy Murderbot frequently identifies as a rogue, whilst being so gentle and definitely not killing all the humans at all…

In Exit Strategy Murderbot becomes perhaps closest to actually feeling like (qualifiers galore there—because it doesn’t, and I don’t think it really comes close at all) to acting like the media rogue, the kill all the humans, the rampaging SecUnit. When it thinks it’s all been for nothing and it’ll never see Mensah again (with Serrat, saved by the ping) and then again when the company demands a bond.

I would also note that the company’s behaviour really indicates they don’t buy the kill all the humans trope either: they let a rogue (unsecured) SecUnit on a gunship…

Someone asked about rogues in The Murderbot Diaries and I thought I’d start with All Systems Red:

In All Systems Red there are [15] uses of the word “rogue”.

[1] Page 69 “Mensah gave the orders and we started forward, me in front, the humans a few steps behind. They were in their full suits with helmets, which gave some protection but had been meant for environmental hazards, not some other heavily armed human (or angry malfunctioning rogue SecUnit) deliberately trying to kill them. I was more nervous than Ratthi, who was jittery on our comms, monitoring the scans, and basically telling us to be careful every other step.”

Theoretical rogue SecUnit

Other adjectives: angry, malfunctioning, “trying to kill them [PresAux]”. This is Murderbot’s nightmare rogue; where it got this image of a rogue from we don’t know. The logical assumption (given how it’s been spending the last 35,000 hours) would be media portrayals.

[2&3] Page 76 “Maybe these clients had been terrible and abusive, maybe they had deserved it. I didn’t care. Nobody was touching my humans. To make sure of that I had to kill these two rogue Units. I could have pulled out at this point, sabotaged the hoppers, and got my humans out of there, leaving the rogue Units stuck on the other side of an ocean; that would have been the smart thing to do.

But I wanted to kill them.”

These are now apparent rogue Units and MB does acknowledge possible mitigation, but still wants to kill them, even if this isn’t the smart thing to do.

[4] Page 78 “Even these two rogues wouldn’t be dumb enough to ignore the creaks if I took the quick route and walked over to their position.

(They were not the sharpest murderbots, having cleaned the floor of the between-habitat corridor to cover the prints they had left when staging that body. It would have fooled somebody who hadn’t noticed all the other floors were covered with tracked-in dust.)”

Suggestion they’re dumb, not the sharpest.

[5] Page 86 “Blood ran down my torn suit skin and I reached up to my neck. I expected to feel a gaping hole, but there was something stuck there. “Dr. Mensah, there might be more rogue units, we don’t know—”

By this point Murderbot honestly doesn’t know how many rogue units there are. It’s having a bad time. Also note lack of capital letter—no idea if it’s significant.

[6] Page 87 “The DeltFall SecUnits hadn’t been rogues, they had been inserted with combat override modules. The modules allow personal control over a SecUnit, turn it from a mostly autonomous construct into a gun puppet. The feed would be cut off, control would be over the comm, but functionality would depend on how complex the orders were. “Kill the humans” isn’t a complex order.”

Revelation time! So, ignore all those previous references to the DeltFall units as rogues—they weren’t.

Murderbot is very clear that SecUnit with override module does not equal rogue. It clearly has a firm internal definition of a rogue.

It’s interesting that it sees them as acting like everyone expects rogues to, killing the humans.

[7] Page 88 “The unknown SecUnit inserted a data carrier, a combat-override module. It’s downloading instructions into me and will override my system. This is why the two DeltFall units turned rogue. You have to stop me.”

Here using “turned rogue” though it has already said they weren’t actually rogue: but it’s talking to humans who it reasonably expects to see combat overridden behaviour as rogue behaviour.

[8] Page 92 “Pin-Lee was saying impatiently, “There’s no danger. When it shot itself, it froze the download. I was able to remove the few fragments of rogue code that had been copied over.”

Rogue code—as in code that could have turned Murderbot rogue! Ha! (Not really rogue, obviously)

[9] Page 92 ‘He gestured to me. “This unit was already a rogue. It has a hacked governor module.”’

Oh Gurathin, my beloved: Murderbot fails to appreciate that Gurathin is using the same definition of a rogue as it does: a hacked governor module. I guess it was distracted.

[10] Page 123 “I could leave them to cope on their own, I guess. I pictured doing that, pictured Arada or Ratthi trapped by rogue SecUnits, and felt my insides twist. I hate having emotions about reality; I’d much rather have them about Sanctuary Moon.”

Imaginary rogues here, figments of Murderbot’s imagination—which are either not really rogue units but overridden ones; or it’s just defaulting to its own personal horror tropes?

[11] Page 127 ‘“They may believe the company and whoever your beneficiaries are won’t look any further than the rogue SecUnits. But they can’t make two whole survey teams disappear unless their corporate or political entity doesn’t care about them. Does DeltFall’s care? Does yours?”

That made them all stare at me, for some reason.’

Again, these SecUnits were not the Murderbot definition of rogue, but again it’s talking to humans.

[12] Page 137 “We didn’t know who EvilSurvey was, who we were dealing with. But I bet that they didn’t either. Mensah’s status was only in the Security info packet, stored on SecSystem, which they had never gotten access to. The dueling investigations if something happened to us were bound to be thorough, as the company would be desperate for something to blame it on and the beneficiaries would be desperate to blame it on the company. Neither would be fooled long by the rogue SecUnit setup.”

Murderbot here acknowledges that even the human investigators would be likely fooled for long by the pretend rogues—so again: as far as Murderbot is concerned a combat-override module controlled SecUnit isn’t an actual rogue.

[13{ Page 140 “He said, “Did they punish you, for the deaths of the mining team?”

It wasn’t completely a surprise. I think they all wanted to ask about it, but maybe he was the only one abrasive enough. Or brave enough. It’s one thing to poke a murderbot with a governor module; poking a rogue murderbot is a whole different proposition.”

Here Murderbot refers to itself as a rogue, a rogue murderbot at that, and acknowledges Gurathin knows it’s a rogue and is poking it. Oh these two…

[14&15] Page 154 ‘That was still annoying, even though I knew we had allowed plenty of time for this part. “You used combat override modules to make the DeltFall SecUnits behave like rogues. If you think a real rogue SecUnit still has to answer your questions, the next few minutes are going to be an education for you.”’

Here Murderbot is talking to evil survey, aka GrayCris. The DeltFall units didn’t really behave like rogues, not at all. We have one actual rogue (by the Murderbot definition) and it doesn’t behave like that. Though it does think a SecUnit might if it had been mistreated? Again, it’s talking to humans, and sort of “speaking their language”, but even here it is keen to draw a distinction between a SecUnit with a combat override and a “real rogue SecUnit”.

Fun!

Themes are: a SecUnit with an override module isn’t (as far as Murderbot, our narrator, is concerned anyway) a REAL rogue: it’s just acting how people (humans and Murderbot) expect a rogue to act. Murderbot thinks a real rogue could have reasons to act like that, but its overwhelming (apparently, even stopping it doing the smart thing) sort of automatic urge is to kill rogues (as it sees them as a very real threat to its humans). Of course, in All Systems Red there is exactly one rogue SecUnit (by Murderbot’s definition) and it doesn’t act anything like it and everyone else seem primed to expect (though Murderbot doesn’t think the investigators would be fooled by the fake rogue SecUnits either?).

It’s me so there has to be extra Gurathin content: Gurathin sees a rogue as a SecUnit which has hacked its governor module. He is remarkable in that he doesn’t seem to have bought into the media (news? corporate propaganda?) portrayal of rogue SecUnits

[hinagamoizaf]

Watching DA:LEK during another trip around the Sun

Focus on colour

Earlier this week I turned a year older & pretty much since my time in Ports, I have a mini tradition of watching my favourite films on my birthday. It’s also more accurate to say that they’re coming-of-age films, I re-watched Last Evolution Kizuna (2020). Out of the way, LEK is genuinely drop dead gorgeous. Yeah it was a theatrical release, but this is legit the best DA has looked imo, even better than the reboot.The art direction, the lighting, I’m not even touching on the animation; it all belongs in a gallery. Something that has always intrigued me is the use of colours in the film. Whenever I visualised LEK in my mind, blue & a variation of summer hues are the most prominent palettes that are ingrained into my memory. Obviously, Taichi & Yamato’s colour schemes are orange & blue; there’s that association that’s been around for the past 2 decades with these characters. Initially I was thinking of writing a piece that analyses the use of colours scene by scene. Yeah so um, I’m just busy straight up. But I still want to shed light on what stuck out to me the most. 

Colour choices

There’s the colour scheme of the characters with their crests / Digimon partners, and also the colour scheme of their clothes. The Crest of Courage & Agumon are orange (sometimes yellow for the latter), Gabumon & the Crest of Friendship are blue : basic Taichi & Yamato colours as discussed before.

Taichi As seen with Taichi’s signature clothes all the way from DA (1999), he usually wears blue clothing items. We see this in 02, Tri he had a mixture, & typically in all the scenes of LEK, Taichi is wearing variations of blue with his attire. Yamato has always had his ugly green singlet. In 02 what we do see of his casual clothes it’s actually black, from Tri my most prominent memory is his rocker black hoodie & the green jacket when they fought Alphamon. Coming close to his hipster brother, Yamato is arguably the best dressed male Chosen Child & during LEK, it’s a mixture of green & black clothing items. (Yes there are scenes for both where this colour choice isn’t always the same, likewise in promotional art. I’m just pointing out the most obvious ones.) Orange is a secondary colour from a combination of passionate red & optimistic yellow, it’s naturally a warm colour; these attributes fit Taichi. You’ll also see it associated with the autumn season & Halloween, all that stuff. *Incoming personal take, not related to colour theory or symbolism. Literally just my own opinion, it may change* Despite how loud orange is, I don’t see it standing on its own. It’s an in between colour for me; I see it, I think ‘that's just a mixture of red & yellow’. Yeah it’s associated with warmth, joy & enthusiasm, but again you get that more with yellow & red; it’s a colour that’s part of a package. Paradoxically, I personally think the same can be said for Taichi. Sure, he’s the main goggle-head leader & poster boy for DA. But when you think of a leader, you also think of his team members. *Your chance to walk away from LEK spoilers* Aside from the main message of growing up, Taichi’s goodbye with Agumon also represented his ‘in between dynamic’ with his partner. At the start of the film, he had his thesis which he wasn’t that sure what to write about. Similarly being a Chosen Child, of course Taich cares about Agumon & his duty, but he just manages the bare minimum amount of time to spend on this aspect of his life. Taichi’s in between worlds, and in either one, he’s not a 100% there - but cares & takes these things to heart. Tri gets plenty of criticism as it is, but the plotpoint of Taichi being melancholic & considering the impact of the Digimon fights in the real world, there’s some merit to it.

Interestingly enough in LEK, Taichi’s not the one taking charge, it’s Yamato. Taichi’s backseat approach reminds me of Sora not including herself during the first Diaboromon fight; and how she spends her last few moments with Piyomon just spending time with her. Taichi does the same with Agumon once they find out about the rings, it felt like spending your last few moments with a pet that has to be put down. But Agumon’s not a pet, he’s Taichi’s Digimon partner.

Yamato In recent years, I've seen people online vouch that Yamato is the one DA cast member who's unapologetically himself & will wear his heart on his sleeve. Taichi's a loud person, but he has a hard time confessing his feelings & confronting them. A foil to Yamato who by all accounts appears as a reserved individual, he's the boy who literally cries & he doesn't hide his emotions. Emotionally constipated maybe, but if he has something to say, he'll definitely show it.

This is apparent during the course of LEK. Whereas Taichi spent his final days with Agumon eating & taking him to his uni apartment, Yamato took charge of the investigation of the new adult characters they were dealing with. We could see at times while Gabumon was there, Yamato did keep his distance (my boy's character arc is learning to embrace his friends & not putting it all on himself). In some regards, Yamato’s the ‘blue oni’ to Taichi’s ‘red oni’ (or rather orange). Yamato is also part of that other half dynamic with Taichi, you usually think about him while  thinking about Taichi. There’s the ‘blues’ part of Yama’s colour scheme, his passion for music & moody character. Blue is a cool colour, it can invoke a feeling of calmness, loyalty in other situations. Then with the whole werewolf theme of Gabumon, there are blue elements there & the debatable ice/blue fire attacks he has.

Blue DA:LEK’s usage of blue covers both the joyous aspects and melancholic parts of not only the film, but is a mirror to the characters’ internal struggles. Butterflies have always been a huge motif in DA & Menoa has this butterfly hair clip that is a stunning, electrifying blue. But transferring that blue to Never-Land, it’s still electrifying, but for the worse. It feels hypnotic & eerie, the colour blue loses its calm connotation & diverts toward a sea of depression. For months after leaving the theatre, the Never-Land scenes were stuck in my head. The film has a message of ‘don’t get too caught up in nostalgia / your childhood’ & they hit it right over the ballpark with the Never-Land setting / conclusion of the film. Adult Menoa was trying to hold onto a childhood that her child self was previously trying to rush growing up from (??), it’s a cracked mirror to how Tai & Yama were also struggling to hold onto their beloved childhood while navigating the abrupt transition to adulthood. This mixed explosion of emotions & realisations, character growth & inner battles is reflected back in what I’m calling the ‘twilight colours’.

Twilight Menoa’s crystals have this purple-blue-pink thing going on. Her goodbye flashback with Morphomon is a daunting hellscape. Taiyama’s final goodbye with Agu & Gabu is a softer hue of that purple-like colour; literally getting darker & welcoming the night once they’re gone.

I’m really going on a limb here, but this reminds me of the ‘twilight hour’. *Could totally be pulling out of my ass - During my uni dissertation, I focused on Kimi no Na wa (2016). The film explored the ‘twilight hour’ & it had a more romantic connotation there. But there’s the rough translation of this period of time being a transition from our world to the other or supernatural world; that tiny bridge where we cross paths. In LEK during those twilight goodbyes, it’s Taichi, Yamato & Menoa having to say goodbye to not only their childhood, their Digimon partners, but also a part of themselves - that child part. That child in the blink of an eye is thrown into the same confusing world, but now debuting as a young adult with all its responsibilities.

[*22nd April, my brain deadass stopped thinking.May revisit & edit this in the coming weeks]

[justletmeplayminecraft]

ex finds a stowaway. what happens next may surprise you.

set in @martuzzio‘s space outlaw au, as ever. this was one of the fics i wanted to write early on and i’m super chuffed i’ve finished it. a faster pace to my previous few, but still 5.5k. 

featuring: ex goes on a journey of character growth feat. someone who definitely isn’t zedaph, ex actually learns to use the word ‘friend��, some tense brotherly discussions, emotions, ex basically holds zedaph up like ‘whose child is this???’, also try not to think of zedaph as a pack creature on his own for that long with only his shawl for comfort cause that hurts a lot.

warnings: tbh if you’ve read my other fics then you’ll be fine, this is tame. very brief shoot-out. emotions. that’s all i can think of.

In all of Ex's (too many) years alive, it's never taken him this long to notice a stowaway before. He's had them, of course. It's usually kids sneaking onto ships that don't know better. They're looking for adventure. Though, they stop looking once they see him. Dropping them off to their parents or kicking them off his ship is easy enough. When it's more serious... Well, he figures it out. He's not Xisuma, but he's not heartless either. Up until now, he's always found them before he took off, or a few hours into flight.

He finds the blond in the middle of deep space.

It's not like he's hidden well, either. He's curled up tightly in the storage hold, tucked in the corner behind some boxes. His arm acts a pillow, a woollen shawl draped over his shoulders. There's only a small rucksack tucked close to torn robes. From the slow rise and fall of his chest, he's sound asleep. Ex sighs, unsure how to proceed from here. It's too late to turn back and drop him off. He doesn't look very threatening, at least. Ex nudges the guy with his toe, watching him rock back and forth. The guy whines.

"Hey. Get up." Ex gets a frown, blue eyes blinking open. He looks ahead of him tiredly, reaching to rub his face before freezing, bolting upright.

"Wh- oh. Um." Ex reaches for the gun on his hip, twirling it before pointing it at the ground. The blond's mouth falls open. "Oh, that's not good."

"Who are you?" Ex asks, keeping his sentences short. This guy looks flighty as anything, shoulders drawn in so he can lean away.

"Woo- William. My name's William." Ex narrows his eyes, tilting the gun closer to him. The guy squeaks.

"I don't believe you." Ex stares him down.

"That's it, that's my name, I'm not lying. Why would I lie to the scary man with a gun?" He swallows, tacking on, "Please don't kill me." Ex keeps his expression neutral and harsh.

"The hell are you doing on my ship?" He demands. Hopefully he'll be smart enough not to lie about that. The guy twists his hands in front of him.

"I just needed safe passage! That's all. There's some people that don't particularly like me and I just- I had to get away!"

"And what's stopping me from giving you to them?" The look of fear that enters those blue eyes would be enough on its own. The blond, Ex might as well call him William, looks devastated. His whole expression crumbles.

"You-" His eyes dart around the hold. Ex can see his arms tense, ready to push himself up.

"There's nowhere to run. We're in the middle of deep space." William doesn't even look at him anymore. He tugs the shawl tighter around his shoulders, beginning to look very small. His breathing has turned into small puffs. Ex sighs, slotting his gun back in its sheath. "What have you been having to eat? To drink?" He asks. William blinks in confusion, glancing up to him. He doesn't quite make eye contact.

"Um, there's some food in one of the crates. Biscuits. I'm really sorry- I was hungry." Ex sighs, making a decision he's pretty sure he's going to regret. He holds his hand out.

"Come on. Get up." William pulls his shawl closer, eyeing him with apprehension. "I'm taking you to the kitchen, idiot. Unless you want to fade away down here."

"Oh." William quietly releases his shawl, hand hovering. "Can I take my bag?" Ex can't imagine anything dangerous being in a bag like that, but he's no fool.

"Give it here."

"Do I have to?" Ex scowls at him. William visibly pales. He gathers up his bag, pushing it into Ex's awaiting hand.

"You can have it back after you eat. And I make sure there's nothing dangerous in it." Ex slings the bag onto his shoulder, taking some care with the contents.

"Okay. That sounds fair." Ex avoids commenting, offering his hand again. William takes it this time. He's as light as Ex expecting, falling into his front with a panicked, "Sorry!" Ex shakes his head, pushing William in front of him. As harmless as he seems, Ex knows better than to take unnecessary chances.

-

He was right that William looked starved. He's tall but tiny, barely any weight on him. The robe hangs off his frame shapeless, a sash wrapped into a belt keeping it on. William tells him in a quiet voice that he's vegetarian, and then eats the food Ex cooks like he hasn't eaten in a week. And if he's been in the hold only eating biscuits, maybe that's accurate.

"Thank you so much," William pushes the plate away, dropping his hands into his lap. Ex nods, only halfway through his own plate. "I- um. Can't actually remember the last time I had a cooked meal. That was really nice." Ex raises his eyebrows. He's not even going to ask. He has a feeling he won't get a straight answer.

"Did you have a destination in mind?"

William shrugs, "Wouldn't have gotten on a random ship if I did."

"Good. Because I'm not going off course for you." William laughs very gently, pressing back against the chair.

"That's- that's okay. I'll probably just find another ship. That's what I've been doing." He can see William tug at his robe. It shows how thin the fabric is. Ex furrows his brow.

"How long have you been running?" He asks. William looks surprised at the question. He tugs the robe tighter, shifting his shawl from its position. He resets it quickly.

"I don't remember." William's voice is incredibly small. Ex silently curses. He swore to himself a long time ago he wouldn't get attached to humans. He's never understood Xisuma and his ever-changing entourage. Their lives are so short. Blink and you miss it. But, here, this one, sat across from him. Ex knows how exhausting running is.

He's growing attached. Damn it.

-

He's proved right when Ex shows him to his room. He gives William's bag back. There was barely anything in it anyway. A spare robe, empty water bottle, a broken thread bracelet, a notepad (detailing his travels, Ex thinks), a de-tangling brush and a tiny amount of change. He's pretty confident this guy isn't a threat to him. He'll keep the bedroom door locked anyway.

"Um." William pauses at the door, cradling his bag. Ex crosses his arms. "Thank you. Again," he says, "You've been really nice to me. I appreciate that."

"It's a few weeks until the next port," Ex tells him. William nods.

"I can help out where I can?" He suggests. "I can... Clean or cook, maybe? I'm not very good at it but-" Ex holds his hand up and the rambling trails off.

"Tomorrow. I'll find something." William's shoulders relax.

"Thank you."

-

True to his word, Ex finds him something to do. Sure, it's dusting, but it's an easy way to keep an eye on him. Ex is no idiot. He's thought things through. He doesn't need to let William near any dangerous chemicals, he can steer him from important machinery and he's not going to do much to Ex with a duster.

He doesn't think he'd be able to do much anyway with that little muscle.

Ex tries to remember what he's learnt about humans. It's not like he's unfamiliar with them, the damn things are everywhere. Fragile yet resilient, they find their way into everything. Ex did his best to avoid them. Now, he has no idea what to do with this one on his ship.

He's pretty sure this is an adult human, at least. The children are usually smaller and talk in higher voices. Far more annoying, too. William listens to him. He stays out of Ex's way, always on the edges. Ex feels slightly reassured he's not accidentally kidnapping a child. That's the last thing he needs. His bounty is high enough. Sure it isn't kidnapping if he came onto the ship himself, but like the authorities care.

Two days after Ex found William, the blond approaches him.

"Um." He's holding the front of his shawl, tugging it tighter around him. He's not changed clothes yet. Though, what would he change into? "I was just thinking I- uh. I don't know what to call you." William shifts from foot to foot. "You don't have to tell me, of course! That's fair! But I keep calling you scaryblueishman in my head which is kind of rude." Ex raises his eyebrows, staring down at the human.

"Ex." Blue eyes narrow.

"Ex?" William sounds confused. "That's just a letter."

"E-X," he spells out, with a dead stare. William still looks skeptical but he nods, mouthing the name before he speaks again.

"Okay. Ex." He nods again, a bit more confident. "It's nice to meet you properly." Ex grunts, turning away to focus on directions. William doesn't leave, his shadow moving awkwardly in Ex's peripherals. Ex finally glances to him.

"What else?"

William takes a deep breath, "Is there a way I could clean my robe? I mean, I'm happy to just do it in a sink with water, but I wanted to check first." Ex wrinkles his nose.

"Please do." William shrinks in, tugging his shawl tight. He focuses on the ground.

"Sorry, yeah. I'll- I'll do that." William skitters away quickly and Ex is left with the feeling he said the wrong thing. He frowns, before deciding it isn't his problem. If William has an issue, he can deal with it.

-

At dinner that night, William is dressed in his other robe, and his hair is heavy with water. With his face clean, he has a pleasant glow to his cheeks. Ex is surprised how much healthier it makes him look. He sits at the counter with him, in the routine they've silently established.

"I'll wash this one tomorrow," William tells him. "But I needed something to wear whilst the other one dried soooo...." It's the first time Ex has seen him without the shawl on. Part of him wants to ask where it is.

"Didn't you use the dryer?" Ex asks instead, pointing to his hair. William pats it, face opening up as he remembers it's wet.

"It's wool. I have to let it air dry or it shrinks." He pretends to shiver. "That's never fun, do not recommend." Ex's thoughts come to a crashing halt. He was fairly certain humans didn't have wool for hair. He knits with wool. Is this some kind of genetic tampering again? Humans always seem to do that.

"Wool?" He questions, seeing an opportunity to prod into William's past either way. William nods, pulling out a strand of hair. It reveals the tight waves in it. Then he seems to realise what Ex is asking and blanches.

"Oh- uh." The hands withdraw back, pressing into his lap now he has no shawl to fiddle with. "You thought I was human, didn't you?"

"You're not," Ex replies, keeping a blank tone. William shakes his head, hair swishing as he does.

"Most people think I am but- well, you're already doing me a big favour by not killing me." His eyes dart to him and back to his plate. "So, uh, I guess I'm related to humans? I'm mostly human. But I'm like... Also related to sheep."

"Sheep," Ex checks, "Those big fluffy things that humans used to farm?"

"Yes! Those!" William bounces in his seat. "I look human so usually I just pretend I am. Makes life easier. But, kinda slipped up here." He fiddles with his robe. Ex can understand that. He's often thought his life would be far easier if he was just a human. But his life would be far easier if a lot of things were different. Being a more common species is a star in the galaxy against his problems.

"Does this mean I get to know your name?" Ex asks. He's surprised how pleased he is when William laughs at his teasing. There’s not a hint of nervousness in it this time.

"You're still stuck on that, aren't you?" William leans forward on the table. "I'm gonna keep it secret. Give you a reason to keep me around."

"So you admit it's not your name."

"Ah." William looks to the side. "You got me there." Ex smirks, continuing to eat. He can't remember the last time he made someone properly laugh. Probably Xisuma. William, whatever his name is, he's... He's not bad.

-

He finds himself trusting William as more time passes. He's given him no reason not to. William follows him into the engine room to figure out why a light keeps flashing. He sits in the navigation bay as Ex redirects around a police stop. He watches and he learns. He talks, too. Ex is amazed someone can chatter so much.

The first few times he trails off once he realises he's doing it. So Ex tries to encourage the conversation. He grunts, nods, tries all those things you usually do. Things he's never cared for before. He likes listening to William speak. The way his brain jumps from topic to topic. He's surprisingly sharp for someone stowing away on an outlaw’s ship. Ex would never admit it, but he prefers it to the silence.

"You might be able to move that wire," William points out. The damn targeting system has stopped working this time. He should’ve known better than to take the cheap junk. "Connect it directly into the power source. Seems like the surge detector is malfunctioning." William rests his hand on his chin. "Actually, test the surge detector with something else first. In case it's a problem with the power source." Ex nods, before looking at William with suspicion.

"When did you become a technician?" William laughs quietly, scratching the back of his hair.

"Um, picked it up over time," he replies. "My friends used to be really good at it so I got the basics from them. Then I kinda needed to know to survive." There's something tight in William's voice when he mentions his friends, how he skips over it quickly and continues explaining what they should do. Ex doesn't comment on it any further. It's hardly like William will be sticking around.

-

Until they reach the next port. William quietly asks where he's going next. Ex tells him. He doesn't bring attention to the relief in William's eyes.

-

They become travelling partners after that. William is there with excited comments and a bounce in his step. He has a surprising range of technical know-how, with unconventional but surprisingly effective solutions. Ex finds himself enjoying the company. He thought he'd mind more. Silence is something he's used to. Something he could retreat into for safety. William never pressures him. He doesn't expect replies. He fills a space Ex didn't know needed filling.

And Ex learns things. William speaks fondly of his family, but he hasn't seen them for a long time. He has a wide knowledge of ships, various organisations and federations. He has a sharp wit, he enjoys watching comedies, he likes napping where Ex is nearby. It's been a long time since Ex has tried to learn about another person. He writes down each small fact so he doesn't forget.

He does ask one day, "You are an adult, right?" William looks up, his smile full of cheek.

"On paper!" So, he gives up on that enquiry. He'll just assume he is.

But William never brings up his friends again. If it weren't for the brief mentions of family, Ex would assume he didn't have a life before meeting him.

That changes, one night.

Ex stopped locking William's bedroom a long time ago. It's so rare he leaves his room anyway. Ex trusts him with far worse around the ship. He wakes up too easily for William to sneak up on him. Or doesn't sleep at all. Like tonight, Ex wanders the ship aimlessly.

He finds William on the bridge. The systems are powered down for the night. It's a piece of junk, but the windows still tower over them. William is sat against one, a shadowed silhouette against the stars. His shawl is slipping off his shoulder. There's something sad in his eyes, the stars reflected in the blue. Ex's footsteps are silent. He sits across from William and blue eyes turn to him.

"Sorry," William's voice is so quiet in the open space. "Did I keep you up?"

"I didn't know you were here," Ex replies. William smiles, resting against the window again. He looks small against the stars.

His next words are quieter, "It feels so lonely, sometimes." Ex watches William tug his shawl tighter, pull his legs a bit closer. "All of this space."

"I've been alone for a long time," Ex tells him. "I'm used to it." William looks at him closely and Ex feels more examined than he has in a long time.

"I'm not sure if I pity you or I'm jealous."

"I'm not sure if I should be insulted." William smiles. It doesn't reach his eyes.

"I wish I could just not care." He breathes out, shaking slightly. "I miss them so much. It's been years." Years aren't very long to Ex, but he doesn't mention that.

"Your family?"

"No-" William turns back to the stars "-My friends."

"Can't you see them?" William's laugh is more of a sob.

"I'm pretty sure they're dead." He stands, pulling his shawl tight. With the light on his face, Ex can make out the shine of tears. "I'm going to sleep. I'm sorry."

By the time Ex can find the words to reply, William is already gone.

-

The next day, whilst they sit together in the common room, William speaks for the first time since that conversation.

"My name's Zedaph." Ex turns to him quickly. "My real name."

"That sounds less real than William," Ex replies, furrowing his brows. William, well, Zedaph, now, gasps in mock surprise.

"Says the person with a letter!" He cries, prodding his finger forward. He can’t reach. Ex smirks. He'll write that down later. Zedaph.

-

Zedaph only gets more bubbly now he's revealed his name. It occurs to Ex he could use it to look him up. He could unwrap this mystery of a person. Yet he... Doesn't. Zedaph is- Ex doesn't want to betray his trust. Zedaph has brought something new to his miserable life. He's precious. Ex doesn't want to break what they have.

Except he messes up.

Zedaph doesn't even have armour as the authorities unload on them. Ex shoves him forward, putting up a shield behind them so they can run. Zedaph stumbles as a shot bounces off the shield. He grabs a table from outside the cafe, dragging it over onto the pavement. Ceramic shatters across paved streets, water spilling into cobbles. People are standing, with loud gasps and shouts. Zedaph looks to Ex, nodding before sprinting alongside him. Ex grabs his wrist, using his free hand to fire shots back at the authorities in the hopes of keeping them away.

They turn a corner and Ex doesn't hesitate to pull Zedaph down another side alley. He refuses to let either of them drop the pace, keeping Zedaph firmly beside him. It takes several more twists and turns until Ex is certain they've lost their pursuers. He still keeps a brisk pace, determined to get back to the ship before they're spotted. Zedaph is puffing beside him.

"I knew this was a mistake," Ex mutters. He still has his hand digging tightly around Zedaph's wrist.

"What?" Zedaph asks. His feet are dragging as he tries his best to keep up. Ex huffs, glaring at him.

"You," he spits. "You've got no armour, you could've died if they shot you. I should’ve left you at that port. This is my damn fault." Zedaph's eyes narrow into a returning glare. He tries to snatch his arm back from Ex but Ex holds fast.

"No, that's not fair," he protests. "To start with, they were after us because of me." Ex holds his arm still between them, halting them both. There's barely room to breathe in the tight alley. He hates these small towns.

"Why would they be after you?" He demands. Zedaph doesn't back down.

"They found me in their record room. I ran but they must've recognised me." Ex stares the blond down, watching as he breathes heavily. He finally yanks his arm, setting a quick pace.

"We're talking about this on the ship," he tells him, voice firm.

"Of course we will," Zedaph mutters. Ex doesn't dignify him with a reply.

-

"Why would you do something so stupid?" He never realised how tall Zedaph is until he's glaring back at him, hands bunched in his shawl. His bag has been thrown on the ground.

"I do it at every planet," Zedaph replies, voice raised but not shouting. "This is just the first time you've noticed."

"And you didn't think to tell me this?"

"I told you there were people after me," Zedaph retorts. Ex rolls his eyes.

"You didn't say that was the police."

"Well, they're one of them. Happy now?"

"What did you even need to be in the stupid record room for?" Ex can barely keep still for his frustration. This stupid, fragile idiot. "What's worth risking your life for?" Zedaph stalks to his bag, picking it up and clutching it in his arms.

"I have to try, okay!" Zedaph doesn't meet his eyes. He's curled around his bag protectively, twisted away from Ex. "For my friends! My best friends-" His voice breaks. Zedaph buries his face into the bag, shoulders shaking and oh god- he's crying. He's crying and this is all Ex's fault.

He barely gets his arms around Zedaph in an attempt at a hug for him to fall against Ex. The bag is squashed between them, and Ex does the best to rub his trembling back, unsure what to do or say.

"There there?" He attempts, thinking to parents and their children. A laugh bubbles out of Zedaph. He steps away but there's still tears in his eyes. He rubs at them with the back of his arm.

"You don't- you don't have to do that." Zedaph smiles at him, his cheeks still shining. "This is kinda stupid, isn't it? Oh my word, I feel like a kid all over again. Crying over things I can't change." Ex pretends that sentiment doesn't hurt.

"Do you want to talk about it?" He asks. Zedaph hesitates. He actually thinks before he replies.

"Sure-" he shrugs "-at this point, why not? "

He keeps his bag with him as they settle in the common room. He wraps his legs around it, pulling out the small book that Ex remembers. Ex sits on another chair entirely, crossing his legs.

"I should start at the start, right?" Zedaph asks, peering at Ex under damp eyelashes.

"That might help," Ex agrees. Zedaph nods, resting his head on his bag.

"I used to have a really close herd," he begins, speaking softly. "One of them I think is okay. Skizz. But I've not been able to find him." He rubs circles onto his knee. "The other two are- were called Tango and Impulse." Something pings in Ex's head. He tries to place why. "We were a team, you know? And then just- they were gone and dead and I didn't want to believe it. I don't want to believe it."

Zedaph holds his book out. Ex takes it, opening the pages and flicking through.

"Every time I reach a port, I try to see if someone matching their descriptions has gone through." He shrugs, simply looking sad. "They never have. But I can't break the habit."

"These are the two that taught you tech?" Ex asks, pieces coming together in his head.

"Yeah!" Zedaph brightens up slightly. "The two of them were incredible. They came up with such amazing designs. For everything. The three of us could fly any ship we wanted to." He squeezes his knee. "I was never really as good as them. I can't even fill their shoes."

Ex frowns, "Don't you see how impressive you are?" Zedaph blinks at him, blue eyes wide.

"Um? No?" Ex closes the book, giving it back to Zedaph. Zedaph strokes the cover before slotting it away safely. "I can't design massive machines. Or work engines. I'm just- I'm me."

Ex raises his eyebrows, "You've successfully evaded police and however many other groups. You've kept detailed records of where you visited. You're able to make things work I'd given up on. You’re funny. Don't you see that?"

"You don't know them."

"No." Ex doesn't change tone. "But I know you." Zedaph squeezes his shawl.

"I'm not going to change your mind, am I?"

"You could always tell me more about them." Zedaph smiles very slightly, sinking into the seat.

"Yeah," he agrees. "It's been... Too long. I'd like to keep their memory alive somehow."

Ex listens closely to every word that Zedaph says. He talks into the early hours of the morning, stories upon stories. Of Impulse and how he tried to keep them together but was really just as chaotic most of the time. Tango and his fire hair, it's really amazing and his crazy ideas he somehow made work. The farms they’d come up with together, pouring over schematics into the early hours of the morning.

And Ex has all the pieces.

He needs to contact Xisuma. Damn it.

-

Ex doesn't want to be selfish. The thought crosses his mind. He could keep Zedaph all to himself and he'd be none the wiser. Ex would have company. They'd both be happy.

But.

How long can he keep Zedaph safe? It would be his fault if those blue eyes no longer shone as he laughs. The people after Ex are far worse than those after Zedaph. And Ex, as much as it pains him, doesn't want to be selfish. He doesn't want to be the reason Zedaph never sees his friends again.

He types out the message in silence that night.

[Ex] ive got somebody for your crew.

-

"And you're sure I can't come with you?" Zedaph asks, for possibly the fifteenth time that morning. Ex nods, keeping his eye on the coordinates of Xisuma's ship. It's been a long time since he's landed in there.

"You don't even have armour," Ex replies. Zedaph scoffs, spinning around in the co-pilot seat.

"I don't have to leave the ship," he suggests. "I could just sit here and look pretty."

"It'll be safer," Ex repeats, for what also must be around the tenth time. "It's a much bigger ship too. More people than just me. You’ll have space to spread out." Zedaph sighs, sliding down in the seat until he's nearly lying down.

"But what if they don't like me?" He exclaims. "At least you do."

"For now." Zed sits up at that with a noise of protest.

"Don't you start being mean," he complains. "I just don't get it. We've been fine, this works. Then we get in one firefight and you freak out!" Ex sighs, checking as they get closer.

"I've not done anything dangerous around you," Ex tells him. "And I am a dangerous man."

"You literally let me sleep on you because you're too afraid to move me," Zed points out. "You're hardly- oh, that is a really big ship." Ex looks up as Xisuma's ship comes into view in all her glory. Zedaph stares, open-mouthed at the sight. "You're putting me on that?" He asks, his face a picture of shock.

"She's a good ship, with a good crew. You'll fit in well." Zed pulls his shawl tight.

"Do you think so?" He asks.

"I know so," Ex replies. He mentally prepares himself. "You're a good friend, Zed. They'll love you." The smile on Zedaph's face is brighter than any star Ex has seen.

"Will you see me on board?" Ex sighs, before shaking his head. He doesn't want to deal with the emotions. Seeing Zedaph reunite with his proper friends. Leaving Ex behind.

"My brother will look after you," Ex tells him instead. Brother is easier than clone. There's parts of his history Zedaph simply doesn't need to know.

"I trust you."

Has anyone ever trusted Ex before?

-

Ex is there as Xisuma enters the ship. Zedaph looks between the two of them, eyes squinted.

"You really do look alike, huh." Xisuma shoots Ex a look. Ex shakes his head very slightly. He knows X will get the message.

"You must be Zedaph." Xisuma holds his hand out, offering a friendly smile. "Ex has told me about you." Zedaph smiles, accepting the handshake.

"You must be Xisuma." Zedaph nods. "It's a pleasure to meet you, sir." Ex snorts at the panicked look on Xisuma's face. His brother waves his hands quickly.

"Nope, none of that. Calling me sir makes me feel far too old."

"You are far too old." Ex throws his arm around Xisuma's shoulders, purposefully knocking him off balance. "You take care of the squirt, got it?"

"Hey!" Zedaph places his hands on his hips. "I'll call you a squirt if you're not careful." Xisuma laughs, shaking his head at the two's antics.

"Of course, of course. They're all excited to meet you. Are you ready?" Zedaph gives Ex a long look. He holds up a finger.

"One minute." He jumps forward, wrapping his arms around Ex and trapping him in a hug. He's gone from a twig to nearly dislodging Ex's footing. Impressive. He raises his arms, awkwardly settling into the hug. Zedaph's grip is tight enough to squeeze his lungs.

"You know I'm gonna miss you, right?" Zedaph steps back. He pokes a finger into Ex's chest. "You better stay safe out there. I want you to visit me."

"Yeah," Ex agrees, trying to hide the uncertainty in his words. "I will." He doesn't know which one he's agreeing to. Zedaph gives him a final smile. He turns to Xisuma with all of that boundless energy.

"Okay! Let's go." Xisuma nods, letting Zedaph take the lead. He pauses at the door.

"I promise to keep him safe," he tells Ex.

"You better."

It's barely two minutes until the feeling hits him. The ship feels so much emptier now.

-

"Why didn't you see him off?" Ex turns to find Xisuma standing beside him with his arms crossed. He stares into the distance, looking like a trademark wise old man. Ex scoffs at the sight, resisting the urge to cross his own arms.

"He won't have any trouble getting used to your ship," he replies. Xisuma looks at him, purple eyes trying to see into Ex's soul. Ex won't let him.

"That wasn't what I asked." Ex sighs, frustrating boiling over.

"How do you do it?" He demands, turning to Xisuma with clenched fists. Xisuma hardly reacts, his expression gentle as ever. "You let these people in your life knowing you're going to lose them. Again and again." It's with those words that Xisuma looks away in thought. Ex releases his fists, realising for once, he's asked something X doesn't have an immediate answer to.

"You want the honest answer?" Purple eyes lock with purple eyes.

"Why?" Ex sneers. "Are you planning to lie to me again?" For not even a second, Ex can see Xisuma flinch. It's such a minute shift in expression that the ordinary person wouldn't notice. Shame that Ex is looking at his own face.

Xisuma pities him. Even now.

"No." Xisuma bows his head. "Because you won't like it." Ex scowls at him. He gestures his hand out for Xisuma to continue. With that same gentle expression, Xisuma sighs. He takes Ex's hand into his own and lowers it between them. "I do it with great difficulty, Ex. Is that the answer you want?" Ex freezes, unable to reply as Xisuma looks directly at him with sad eyes.

Someone shouts for Xisuma inside the landing bay. The stupid admin glances in that direction, calling out a response. He squeezes Ex's hand as he faces him. Ex snatches it away.

"I'm going to send you his number," Xisuma tells him. He gives no room for Ex to argue. "It's your choice if you stay in contact."

"Why should I?"

"Having a friend isn't going to kill you, Ex." He doesn't appreciate Xisuma's dry tone. "Consider it." Ex huffs, a stray white strand flying from his face.

"Fine."

-

[Xisuma forwarded a contact: Zedaph]

[Xisuma] He speaks highly of you, you know?

[Ex] is this your way to convince me

[Xisuma] Maybe.

[Xisuma] And it's nice to hear that somebody else cares about you.

...

[Ex] shut up

-

[Ex] sup loser

[Ex] heard you missed me

[Zedaph] Ex!!!!!!!

[Zedaph] You absolutely knew, didn’t you? I hate you so much. 

[Zedaph] Oh, I have so much to catch you up on.

Ex rolls onto his side on the bed, content to watch the messages roll in.

[greyias]

Companion Interview Meme

Tagged by: @a-muirehen — thank you for the tag!

Pick three companions who know your OC/muse well. Answer the questions from at least one of their companions points of view. Replace anywhere it says ‘Grey’ with your OC’s name. Name the three companions who will be answering here: 1. Theron Shan 2. Lana Beniko 3. Kira Carsen Are they ready to be candid with their responses? Don’t worry, this is totally private. Grey will never read it.

(Slight spoiler warning in one answer for Echoes of Oblivion)

1. First Impressions. What was the first impression you had of Grey?

Theron: Look, it’s complicated. Like on one hand, she just had to be hiding something, because she was just so—so—no one is that nice! Or naive. It had to be an act somehow. I was convinced of it, there had to be something wrong with her, some deep, dark dirty secret she was hiding. Because if she wasn’t then that means she was a genuinely good person who actually cared deeply about random strangers and that was just weird. And kind of wonderful. And in retrospect when I look back maybe I just... needed a few reasons to keep people at arms distance. I once told her that I loved her from the moment I saw her. Striding into the situation room like she owned the place and... yeah. That was also true. As I said, it’s complicated. And I’m kind of an idiot.

Lana: I was quite impressed by what I had assumed at the time was a great deal of pragmatism. She was a Jedi, and yet didn’t seem bothered at all by the fact that I was a Sith. In fact, sometimes I think maybe she was... fascinated by it? There was a moment or two where I wondered if... well, I suppose it doesn’t matter now. She has always been a force to be reckoned with. It’s easy to follow someone like that... even if they are a Jedi (and a very impractical one at that. I really should have seen that coming in retrospect.)

Kira: She didn’t know how to take a joke. I mean, I’ve gotten better over the years, but at the start I’d had a tendency to make jokes first, assess the situation later. I’d made some comment about taking no prisoners, and you would have thought I’d just kicked a puppy instead of making a joke. Kind of felt like I had from the look on her face. Luckily, I think we both made better second impressions when we started working together on Coruscant.

2. Grey walks into a bar. No, it’s not a joke - what does she order? If you give her a credit for the jukebox, what kind of music would she put on?

Theron: Something fruity and filled with rum if you don’t stop her. Don’t let her drink the rum. And then because she has no loyalty whatsoever she’ll put on Tai-Vor Swivt on the jukebox and just share my special playlist with the whole cantina. Um. I mean. Her playlist. I don’t like Tai-Vor. I only listen to Heavy Isotope. And things like that.

Lana: The answer depends on the time of day, her mood, and several other factors. I have it all documented in this rubric here. You’ll need to give me more specifics on your inquiry if you want an accurate answer.

Kira: I mean, usually she just orders caf, which almost always gets a dramatic eyeroll from the bartender. So I usually have to order so we don’t get the stinkeye the entire time. And usually she lets me pick the music too -- I kind of suspect she didn’t really know many of the artists. Not exactly dialed into pop culture, that one.

3. How does Grey spend a day off from work?

Theron: Hmm, if I have my way it’s a nice slow morning and any message sent to her e-mail receives a cordial out-of-office message (Lana gets two for each message she sends.) Maybe later we can take a walk in the woods, go pet those stinky Exoboars running wild and ruining the Odessen countryside, maybe we get a little lost along the way. Spend the evening winding down with one of her swashbuckling holoflix. If I don’t have my way someone winds up asking her a work question and then she doesn’t get a day off. Yes. I know the irony of this coming from me.

Lana: If she is onsite at Odessen nowadays she seems to spend it in a mix between time in her quarters, leaving the base to take a walk in the woods, trying to duck surveillance to meditate in her “secret” spot. 

Kira: Back on the Defender, it was just a lot of meditating, practicing her katas, sparring. Honestly, even on her days off she usually just kept trying to make sure we were prepared for the next mission. Although if I invited her to do something normal she’d go along with it. So I may have made sure some of our off days coincided so she would actually take something resembling a break. The weirdo. She seems to have relaxed a little from that here on Odessen. I think that’s nice.

4. What silly superstitions or funny traditions does she observe?

Theron: She meditates each morning, and still observes the Jedi morning fast. Except she totally cheats on her fast and will drink a cup of caf if its hand delivered to her. She’ll warm her hands on the mug as she takes in a big whiff, and this little smile spreads across her face. It causes the freckles on her nose to wrinkle. And maybe I’m the one who hand delivers the caf because its hard to think of a better way to start the day.

Lana: We do not speak of the fruitcake, or any of her other attempted holiday traditions. If we do not encourage her, then maybe she’ll stop. Please, we must all band together, for the good of my digestive tract.

Kira: Whenever we would finish up a mission on a planet, she liked to take off her socks and boots and meditate with her feet sticking into the ground. She even wanted to do it on Quesh but Doc was loud enough on that instance to be able to talk her out of it. She tried to hide it but she looked really disappointed, so I tried to cheer her up by joining her on this weird mud hop at our next port of call. Not sure if I really felt any different but it seemed to make her happy.

5. What does Grey wear to bed? And just how do you know that?

Theron: Traditional night wear is a thin tank top and sleep pants. Let’s just say sometimes there’s less traditional night wear, or sometimes less than that -- but that’s between husband and wife.

Lana: On mission she typically wears something quick to change into her armor. On base she seems to have a standard set of pajama bottoms and sleeveless sleep shirt. How do I know this? Let’s just say I have to keep the Commander on schedule, even when certain people who should know better try and distract her from our very busy day running things.

Kira: She usually was changed and ready for the day before I ever saw her, but sometimes there’d be a late night where she couldn’t sleep, and I’d find her in the Defender’s mess. Pretty simple and spare sleepwear, sleep pants and tank top. Fashion’s not exactly her priority, you know?

6. Your favorite memory of Grey?

Theron: Why do you make me pick? Damn... that’s hard. There’s almost too many to choose, but... I guess it would be just after we got back from Nathema, and I was trying to apologize for everything and... somehow that turned into a proposal. And despite me being a stumbling awkward mess she still said yes and... look. I probably should have picked a different one, I’m not really good at the talking about feelings thing.

Lana: That moment when the broadcast across the galaxy happened after she had tamed the Eternal Fleet, she stood poised and powerful, finally setting the galaxy aright after Zakuul had torn it asunder. It was a moment more than five years in the making and I couldn’t have been prouder.

Kira: That moment when we stood, side-by-side, with everyone else in the Force and turned that creep Tenebrae, and every other of his counterparts into absolute crumbling dust. It almost made up for the fact that I wasn’t there the first two times she sent him packing.

7. A time you very nearly almost kissed Grey?

Theron: I mean, if we’re being technical, I had... thought about it for one moment on Manaan. Just a brief second, as we were saying our farewells before I went into hiding. Our eyes had met while we were shaking hands goodbye and it would have been so easy to just pull her in close and--I didn’t. Of course I didn’t. Not then at least. Now though? I don’t miss a chance.

Lana: I was angry at myself, my weakness, and taking it out on the clutter around the Gravestone. I had been surrounded out in the swamp, and only Koth’s timely intervention had saved me. She had come seeking me out to make sure that I was all right, to check on my injury. And in the low light, she just looked so concerned and guilty, and I’m fairly certain she was leaning in. I would have, you know, if Koth hadn’t been throwing around things and making a racket.

Kira: It was right after my Knighting, and I had snuck a bottle of champagne on board to celebrate. I suspect she hadn’t ever actually tasted alcohol before, judging by her reaction to the first sip. But we kept drinking, and giggling, kind of like we weren’t stuffy Jedi at all. And there was this moment where she asked me about Nar Shaddaa. Not pushy or anything, just... curious about my experiences. She never talks about it, but I don’t think she really knew much of life outside of the Order so she was always cautiously curious. And there was this moment where I was telling her about my first kiss and we kind of leaned in and--nothing happened. At the time I didn’t want to risk making things weird. I... like where we’re at. I’m fine with it.

8. Vacation time! Where do you take Grey for some R&R?

Theron: You know, I just love the sound of that word. Vay-cay-shun. Despite popular opinion I actually do take them, maybe a few more now than when I was single. We have a secret little hideaway that no one else knows about that I like to take her to when things get a little rough or we just need a break from the everything the galaxy is deciding to throw her our way.

Lana: You know, a vacation does sound nice, but someone has to keep things running here, especially when a certain nameless spy whisks our Commander away to fake locales. Seriously, I need a proper itinerary. What if I need to contact them? It’s just rude. Oh right, the question. I suppose I wouldn’t mind visiting some place quiet and out of the way, although I honestly have yet to find a place in galaxy that qualifies because if I take Grey for some reason she always finds someone in trouble that she insists on rescuing.

Kira: I’m not sure if it qualifies as a vacation per se, but I’ve been able to sneak her and one of our other Jedi buddies around base off to Nar Shaddaa for a Girl’s Night. Those are fun, even if we kept getting hit on at the bars. Although that can be entertaining in itself, especially that one time some guy pretended to be a Jedi, and then got this very detailed lecture on how bad an idea that was from Grey. I don’t think I’ve seen a man wilt so fast in my life. I would pay to see that again.

9. Grey’s sense of humor -is it dry, immature, sarcastic, self-deprecating, physical, witty, dark, or…?

Theron: I think it depends on the situation and her mood. It can be very subtle, and sometimes I can’t tell if she’s being serious when she says something ridiculous, or if she’s messing with me. Which... I suppose is fair, because sometimes I do the same to her.

Lana: She loves a good pun, which I find delightful. It’s doubly delightful just to see Theron roll his eyes and groan like he’s being tortured.

Kira: I think a lot of people don’t really get her humor, and honestly it took me a while to realize when she was joking. She likes to let others take the lead when it comes to cracking jokes, but when she does make a zinger, it takes a few seconds for it to land. They’re a lot more sly and subtle than you’d think. My favorite is when she starts to get really frustrated with someone and makes really dry, pointed comments that usually sail right over their heads. She has so many people fooled with that sweet serene Jedi act, they don’t even realize the epic burn until long after the conversation has ended.

Tagging: @confettininjabean, @thewriterandmuse. @shanfamilydrama, @storyknitter, @lumielles, @captainderyn, and @brietopia

[matrixreimagined]

The Dream Chronicles Chapter 7

I always forget to post this here! lol

A03 Story Link

A03 Chapter Seven

Trinity woke with the ship.

The gentle hum of the systems rebooting, coming out of their overnight stasis. She heard the lights in the hall flicker on and reach their gentle hum.

She opened her eyes.

Neo was still lost to sleep, his face relaxed and content. She ran a hand down his cheek. Stubble was starting to form. The hair on top of his head was also quickly growing into what looked like a buzzcut. It was cute, she thought, but his haircut in the Matrix had suited him much better. It somewhat softened his features.

It would grow back, she knew. Just as hers had done, fifteen years ago.

She wished she could just stay and watch him sleep. But there were things to do and everyone had been slacking since finding the One. Morpheus was letting it slide because he was so excited himself, but they needed to stay on top of things. Especially repairs. The last thing they needed was for the ship to break down while everyone on board was celebrating and watching Neo kick ass all through the construct.

Sighing, she tried to slip out of his arms, only for his grip to tighten, pulling her back to his chest with a dissatisfied groan.

Try as she might, she couldn't help the smile on her face. For a poddie, Neo was already shockingly strong.

"Don't you dare," he muttered.

"I need to shower," she replied, squirming as she tried to fight his vice-like grip.

"Smell good to me."

She smirked. "I'd like to keep it that way." She slipped down and out of his arms, quickly stepping to her feet.

His eyes cracked open, a lazy grin on his face. "Want help scrubbing your back?"

"Some other time," she promised, grabbing a fresh set of clothes from her shelves.  She leaned down to press a kiss to his forehead. "I'll be back soon."

Neo hummed, closing his eyes. "Miss you already."

She hurried to the wash. It appeared that no one else was up yet. She could not hear the subtle creaks that came from the crew moving about on the metal ship.

While there were two bathrooms on the ship, only one contained the showers. It was usually a fight in the morning to get there first and Trinity nearly always won.

She kept her time to a minimum, scrubbing her body down and soaping her hair, all the while knowing it wouldn't make much of a difference. In a few hours, she'd be covered in dirt and sweat from running repairs.

Still, it was soothing. And while water was plentiful in Zion due to the recycling plant, on a hovercraft, they were much more limited. Most ships allowed for showers every two days. As the Neb rarely made port in Zion, they tried to conserve water the best they could. Meaning, oftentimes, they were limited to twice-weekly showers.

The urge to get back to Neo was surprisingly overwhelming. She told herself it was only because they'd have to spend the day separately and not because his absence weighed on her every moment that they were apart.

She had lived without him for decades but now minutes dragged by.

Trinity dried off quickly before dressing for the day and slipped back into the hall. Dozer's door was open, as was Morpheus'.

She opened the door to what had quickly become hers and Neo's room.

The man in question was sitting up in bed. He had dressed for the day and made the bed before sitting back on top of it, the datapad pulled down and resting on his lap.

He looked up as she entered, a smile forming on his face that made her heart fucking stop.

"What are you looking at?" she asked to distract herself from his contagious grin, tossing her used clothes into the laundry bag.

"Catching up on the history of Zion. You know-—trying to fill in the gaps."

"How's that going?" She sat next to him on the bed, glancing down at the datapad. He was reading about the Second Machine War, judging by the pictures.

Neo shrugged. "It dually makes sense and is hard to make sense of."

Trinity nodded. "Despite your dreams, you spent thirty years indoctrinated by the Matrix. It'll be harder to let go of certain things."

Neo powered down the datapad, pushing it up behind them to its rightful station. He leaned towards her, pressing a kiss to her lips. "Good morning."

"Morning," she echoed, resting her head against his. "How are you feeling today?"

"Mentally, pretty good. I feel like I'm where I'm supposed to be."

"And physically?"

"I'll do anything you ask if you don't tell Apoc where I'm hiding."

She laughed, craning her neck to kiss his cheek. "Sorry, sweetheart. It's back to bootcamp, I'm afraid."

Neo was practically beaming at her and it took her a moment to realize the term of endearment she had laid upon him. She felt herself flush, but Neo kissed her before she could dwell on it for too long.

She let herself get lost, at least for the moment, in the tastes and sensations of Neo. She wanted to just say fuck it all… to call out sick and just stay in bed, kissing him, all day.

But it wouldn't be beneficial for either of them.

Neo still had to train, and she had a ship to run.

But a few minutes more wouldn't hurt.

............

While there was technically no time constraint on breakfast being served, they were definitely late, considering everyone else was already sitting when they walked in.

Switch wasted no time honing in on the tray in Neo's hands. "What's with the bowls and shit?"

Tank was quick to jump in on that as Neo and Trinity made their way past the table to the little kitchenette. "Oooh, that was from their date last night."

Trinity sighed as Neo set the tray in the soapy water. It was going to be a long fucking day.

"Date?" Switch nearly hollered, looking up. "What date? We're on the Neb!"

Dozer fielded that one. "They made do. Dinner, tea, bottle of my home brew."

"What? Ugh!" Switch shook their head. "I can't fucking take this."

"That's really cute, though!" Mouse piped up.

"I'm dying. I'm literally dying."

Neo stopped up next to Trin as she prepared their teas. "Think they've noticed we haven't said anything yet?" he asked, bending down to whisper in her ear.

"Definitely not." She gave him a small smile. "I'm sorry they're like this."

He kissed her head before reaching for two bowls.

"Just look at them," Tank was saying. "It's nearly nauseating."

"Nearly?" Cypher added.

"Hey, dumbasses," Trinity said loudly as Neo poured them each a serving of breakfast, "take a moment and remember who makes your schedules and decide if you really want to be doing overnights for the next month."

Apoc snickered as a collective sigh filled the kitchen. Trinity had never been so thankful for her one friend who seemed able to mind his own damn business.

She brought their teas over and sat at the end of one of the tables, Neo quickly following with their breakfast.

"You two look awfully domestic," Tank said, like he was unable to help themselves. It only made sense, thought Trinity. Of everyone on the crew, Tank was probably the least afraid of her.

"How long was that?" Trinity asked with a sigh.

"Not even thirty seconds," Neo replied evenly, slipping into the seat next to her, "although I'm not sure what you expected."

"You know what? With the exception of Neo, everyone on this crew has gone after me and Sparky for years. And now that I'm on the other side, I get it and I'm getting in on it!"

Neo smirked at the operator. "I'm not exactly innocent; I've definitely got in on going after you and Sparks on my end."

"See!" Tank said, raising a hand to accentuate his point. "This is my time to shine!"

Trinity rolled her eyes while the others chuckled, save Morpheus. He was eyeing Neo with that intense curiosity.

"You're remembering," the captain commented.

"More and more every day," Neo admitted with a glance to Trinity, remembering their conversation the previous night. "The problem is I'm not sure which dreams are reliable, and which aren't."

"What the hell does that mean?" Cypher asked.

"I mean," Neo paused trying to think of how best to explain, "it's undeniable that some of the things I know are accurate, but there's very little I trust implicitly."

"You dreamed of the club," Apoc noted, sounding curious.

"I did," Neo agreed. "Hundreds of times. And the scenarios ranged a few dozen different ways. But nothing actually matched what really happened that night. And even as far as meetings go, I had other dreams where I met Trin in a library or in a bus."

Trinity's head turned towards him quickly and he was met with a stunned silence from the rest of the room. She shook her head, sighed, and went back to her breakfast wordlessly.

The stares from the others didn't stop.

"What?"

"When Trinity and I were deciding how to make contact with you," Morpheus replied, "we discussed both your bus route and the library you frequent."

Neo glanced to Trinity and back to Morpheus.

Fuck.

"I wonder then, if instead of a fixed linear path, you've been dreaming multiple eventualities of the possible ways this could have gone."

"Oooh," said Tank, shaking his head. "Too many big words possibilities for breakfast conversation."

"Agreed," Switch jumped in. "I'd much rather hear about the shit the Messiah may or may not know."

Neo smirked, setting down his spoon into his breakfast, again leaning forward so he could see around Trinity. "Switch, with the things I know, do you really want to play with me?"

"Save the teasing for Trinity, Messiah. I want dee-tails."

Before Neo, Trinity reflected, she probably could have counted the number of times that other's antics had made her blush on one hand. She didn't embarrass easily, nor was she uncomfortable with people being sexually explicit. Case in point, three of her closest friends were Sparks, Tank, and Switch.

Now? It felt as if her cheeks were stained pink at all times.

"I can't speak to the entire validity of everything I know and remember from this world, however"—Neo kept eye contact with Switch—"do the words 'the Switch Shuffle' have the same resonance for you as they do for me?"

Trinity choked on her breakfast, coughing as she tried to swallow the goop. He looked to her, slipping a hand onto her back immediately as Switch spluttered and Apoc, Dozer, and Tank burst into laughter. The others continued to look on in stunned disbelief.

Neo continued rubbing Trinity's back in small circles as he handed her the tea. She took it gratefully, sipping to soothe her throat after the unexpected revelation.

"Oh, shit. Neo knows about the Switch Shuffle," Tank said, wiping his watery eyes. "New best day ever."

Neo shrugged, looking back to Switch. "Now, do you actually have to be drunk to perform the Switch Shuffle or is that just the only way I've seen you do it?"

"I dance better drunk," Switch confirmed, nodding in slight awe. "Okay, Messiah. Tell me about that dream."

Again, Neo shrugged, sliding his arm fully around Trinity's back to hold her against him. He stiffened as he did, remembering again that this was not his world and while Trinity was still his, she did not have the memories that he did. He went to lower his arm, but Trinity leaned into him in silent permission.

He swallowed while the others eagerly listened in. "We were in Zion at a celebration in the Temple. Switch had a little too much to drink when everyone was getting ready and arrived completely sloshed. Before Hamann could do any sort of announcements, Switch was demanding the drums start and proceeded to do the Switch Shuffle in front of half of Zion. No music, no one else dancing. Just a big circle cleared for you to… shuffle."

"That's bloody brilliant!" Switch said, nodding ferociously.

Neo picked up his spoon. "I enjoyed myself."

"What else happened?" they asked, drumming their hands on the table, bouncing in their seat.

"That was mostly it," Neo said, squeezing Trin's side. "Just dancing."

"Dancing?" Tank asked, waggling his eyebrows suggestively. "Or… you know… dancing?"

Neo said nothing, just took another bite of his breakfast.

The short answer, which he would not be sharing, was both.

He could still hear the beat in his head of the drums echoing around the Cave. Heat rolling around them with hundreds of people dancing in close quarters. Trinity pressed against his body, his arms around her as they swayed to the beat. Not caring about sweat or the people around them watching, just moving together.

Before stumbling home. Leaving the party early to kiss in empty halls and elevators. Fumbling to unlock their apartment as he pinned her to the door, before their clothes fell to the floor and their rhythm changed.

He tried not to shift as he felt himself harden.

Instead, he just took another bite.

"This is fucking wild," Mouse said, eyes wide. "I've never even seen the Switch Shuffle. I've only heard about it."

"That's because I don't drink around children."

"I'm seventeen!" Mouse whined.

"You're a baby."

"I'm old enough to drink and go into the Matrix. I should be old enough to see the Switch Shuffle."

"You're really not missing much," Trinity told him.

"Neo's seen stuff in his dreams that I've never seen in real life! How is that fair?"

"Don't worry, Mouse," said Tank, slinging an arm on the younger man's shoulders. "One day, you'll see real titties too. Just not Trinity's."

Trinity smirked, sparing a side glance at Neo. Years of worrying how the One would react to waking up in the real world were wasted down the drain.

When she had gone into the Matrix that night to find him, she was secure in the knowledge that she was at an advantage. She knew things about him. She orchestrated getting him out of his tiny apartment and to the club, had watched him for weeks on end.

And then he had said her name.

It was intimidating, sometimes, how well he knew them all. An odd anecdote about Switch's dancing skills or Deadbolt giving him a hard time, but it all came back to her.

Entwined, the Oracle had told her. Their fates were entwined and inseparable. "He'll be the One. But without you, he'll fall."

She had spent so long trying to figure out why life in the real world still felt wrong and incomplete. Like a breath caught in your throat. Taking in more and more but being unable to release. And then, he was there, and she could finally exhale.

"Oooh," said Switch, sitting up straighter. "Have any fun stories about Sparks?"

Neo blinked, tilting his head to the side in thought.

"Ease up," Trinity ordered the table softly. "Breakfast first, then interrogation."

Switch stuck out their tongue but started eating.

"You guys up for poker later?" Tank asked. "I know Neo knows all of us but maybe that would be a chance for us to know him."

Trinity glanced to Neo, inclining her head slightly and leaving the decision to him. She had to admit, it wasn't a bad idea, but he needed to do so on his own terms. When she gave no indication one way or the other, Neo nodded. "Yeah, that might be nice."

"Awesome!" Switch grinned. "I'll bring the cards, Neo brings the stories, and Dozer can bring the booze."

"I'll bring the stomach pump," Apoc added dryly before turning to Neo. "Finish up. I'll meet you where we trained yesterday."

Neo nodded, unsure what he was dreading more: the intense workout or having to let Trinity go from his arms. She felt so fucking right, leaning into him, tucked into his side. He finally understood why couples felt a need to display affection.

It wasn't about proving something. It was about never wanting to let go of something good in a world where everything else was bullshit.

The older man carried his dishes over to the sink, setting them in the water before saying a quick goodbye to everyone.

Trin leaned her head against his shoulder, briefly, before sitting up to continue eating her breakfast.

The crew at large still seemed fascinated with their interactions. Most were trying, subtly at least, to avoid staring at them.

Cypher, however, was blatantly watching them.

It made him a little uncomfortable and he tried to think back to his dream memories of the real world. While he had plenty of memories of Tank and Dozer and Switch and Apoc, even a fair few with Mouse, there were significantly less of Cypher.

He knew the man, vaguely.

Had memories with Cypher lingering in the background, watching Trinity a little too intently for Neo's liking. Mostly on the Neb. In fact, he couldn't think of any memories of Cypher in the Matrix or even in the city.

It was as if the man existed only on the ship.

He couldn't quite make sense of it, but then, things were still becoming clearer.

Trinity started giving orders out to the remainder of the crew, letting them know their jobs for the day, prioritizing a crack in the outer hull that needed to get repaired before they flew off anywhere new.

She turned to Morpheus. "I'm giving you a heads up—there's a good chance Lock is going to want a call. He wasn't too happy with the latest report."

The captain barely withheld a sigh. It was nice, Neo thought, to know some things never changed.

Neo waited for Trinity after he finished eating so he could take her bowl to the sink as well. She rewarded him with a small smile that made his heart skip a beat.

"Good luck," she said as he walked by.

He cupped her cheek as he leaned down to press a kiss to the top of her head.  "See you soon," he promised, more for his benefit than hers.

He ignored the teasing sounds from Switch and Tank as he left to continue his training. Life was good.

.............

One by one, the rest of the crew filed out of the mess hall to get back to work. Cypher and Dozer went to work on the hull, and Mouse hurried along to help with the wiring on the bridge. Morpheus left to take inventory, leaving only Switch and Tank behind with Trinity.

"So?" Tank pushed.

"You can't just let things be, can you?" Even as she said it, her lips twitched into a small smile.

"Not for all the bread in Zion. Come on! How was your date?"

"It was good"—she found herself looking down as she thought back to the night before—"really good."

"It was his idea?" Switch asked, leaning forward.

She nodded. "Yeah. Said he wanted to make sure we did this right, despite all the memories and confusion. And he's more concerned with making sure I'm comfortable than he is with this transition."

Trinity wondered if it was wrong that it made her unbelievably happy to see him trying so damn hard to make her feel safe and happy.

"It's all he seems to be focused on," Tank agreed. "Much to Morpheus' dismay."

She considered admitting what the Oracle had told her. To unleash the burden that lay on her shoulders for fifteen goddamn years and yet… she stopped herself.

She had her reasons for keeping it to herself for so long, least of all that what the Oracle said was for her and her alone. She knew she would have been weaponized if anyone had known her ties to the One.

She'd thought about telling her friends before, just so she could talk to somebody about it.

But Tank would be too excited to keep it to himself. Even if he never told, his actions lacked subtlety and Switch would have kept it to themself but would have teased Trinity mercilessly, she knew. And there was always the chance of being overheard and found out.

Of course, now the secret was mostly already out.

She and Neo were bound together.

A profound attachment that she couldn't begin to explain.

But she stopped herself from saying more about the Oracle because… well, because the only person she really wanted to share that with was Neo.

And it was stupid—he had barely gone from her sight and she already missed him and was counting down to when she'd have an excuse to touch him again.

They had spent two nights together and the thought of sleeping in her own bed alone made her queasy.

The words were already on the tip of her tongue every time she caught sight of him, and her heart ached to say them.

I love you.

But he was still so new to the real world. He was still adjusting and the last thing she wanted to do was confuse him as he learned to separate his dreams from reality.

"Morpheus'll get over it," Switch said, pulling Trinity from her thoughts abruptly. "So, have you two fucked yet?"

"Will you stop fucking asking that?!" Trin said, staring at her friend incredulously. "In what world would I ever share that kind of information?"

"This world, Neo's dream world… who cares? Come on, I mean, he stayed the night after your little date, didn't he?"

"We're sharing a space." She didn't mean for it to come off defensive, but it definitely did.

"Whatever. The fucking is inevitable. What I'm curious about is, are you two married in his world?"

Oh.

Truthfully, she hadn't thought about it.

Marriage was, after all, a simple ceremony and a piece of paper.

It was low on her priorities long before she met Neo but now… the idea of putting some kind of formal claim on him was appealing. To have him marked as taken…

She had never been particularly possessive but now it crept through her. A dark urge to keep him for her own. To lock him away where he could be safe and protected and hers. It sounded far too good for her liking.

"I don't know," she answered honestly. "But I feel like he would have said something if we were. He's been very honest about the whole thing."

"I don't know," said Switch, "you said yourself, he's concerned with making sure you feel safe. And you're kind of a flight risk. He might not be telling the full truth.""

Shaking her head, she said, "He wouldn't lie. He knows that everything between us right now is based on trust and…"

"Slow down," Switch narrowed their eyes, leaning forward. "Holy shit. You really trust this guy, don't you? Like actually trust him, trust him?"

Why did it feel like she was walking into a trap?

Trin looked away briefly before admitting, "Yeah. I do."

Switch looked to Tank. "Took this bitch years to trust me. Turns out, all it takes is a line about seeing her in my dreams and a swift make out."

Trin flipped Switch off.

"It is weird," Tank said with a shrug. "I mean, under normal circumstances, if someone walked up to me and said they knew shit about my future, I wouldn't believe them. Maybe it's because he's the One or maybe it's just because you two have your whole"—Tank waved a hand—"thing going on."

Trinity knew what he meant.

Tank tended to be as trusting as they came but the things Neo said were somewhat out of the realm of belief. And yet, she never doubted his words or his intent.

"And not for nothing," Tank added, almost as an afterthought. "I know you know more than you're saying."

Her crew wasn't stupid, that was for sure.

She nodded, unwilling to lie to her friends through anything beyond omission. "If there was anything that I felt was related to safety or the wellbeing of the crew, I would let you all know. But there are some things that don't need to be shared."

Switch snorted loudly. "You tell that to Morpheus?"

"Yes."

"How'd the Cap take that?"

"As well as can be expected." Trinity sighed. "There's a lot that I know. But there's a lot more that I don't. Until Neo and I are able to figure things out, he's just going to have to deal with it."

"Surprised you didn't figure things out last night." Tank had a teasing tone lacing his words.

"We talked some."

"Some?" the operator pushed, waggling his brow.

She kept a blank face. "Yes."

"Ugh, stop it with that!" Switch shook their head. "I get that you're keeping some things to yourself but at least tell me this: the One a good kisser?"

It took all her self-control to not let that question affect her. Because fuck. The care and attention put into each moment where they were fused together was outweighed only by the sheer passion and mutual adoration.

Kissing Neo was toe-curling, body-tensing, eye-rolling, breathtakingly perfect.

"Fucking amazing," she muttered before she could stop herself. She regretted it immediately, noting the shit-eating grins on both her colleagues' faces and Trinity sighed. "He knows me, okay? Like, in some ways we're starting this like it's new, but he still is coming in with all this information."

Tank bounced in his seat. "And when you say he knows you…"

She'd already alluded to it. In for a penny. "He's been dreaming about me for fifteen years. He knows my body better than I do."

Switch smacked Tank in the chest. "Can't take it. Can't fucking take it anymore."

"I'm literally dying," said Tank, shaking his head, "Trin, please, I am fucking begging you… let me tell Sparks!"

She shook her head. "Not until I talk to Ghost. I don't want him to hear about this third-hand."

Tank leaned forward. "Sweetheart, I'm not sure how much longer I can keep this to myself. We message every day and I keep telling him ‘not much' is going on. Not much, Trin! When we've got a living, breathing Messiah walking around and you're saying shit like that!"

"I have faith you can keep this to yourself for at least a few more days."

"I don't!"

"I can always find more work for you if you think you have enough time on your hands to be gossiping," she teased. It was an empty threat and they both knew it.

"You owe me so big, mami."

Trin rolled her eyes. "On that note," she said, "I need to get back to work. As do the two of you."

"Bo-ring," Switch sang even as they stood up. "But I guess I'll have to wait for tonight. Playing poker with the One is sure to be fun."

"It'll be something."

Trinity could only hope the crew would behave.

[peach-the-owl]

Child of the Nein

When you first meet (Mighty Nein & Child!Reader) Part 1

This popped into my head one day and I don’t think I‘ve seen anyone else do something like this so I thought: Hey why not? You know because a child in a group of adventurers couldn’t possibly go wrong

Also they may not be 100% accurate to their back story but I kept them as close as I could

Jester

Jester weaved her way through the streets of Nicodranas until she had reached the edge of the port side city. Looking now at the necklace upon her, lost in thought, her bittersweet thoughts of home quickly interrupted however by rustling bushes nearby. Thinking one of the guards had found her she readied herself to run, only to freeze when a child looking no older then 8 comes tumbling out of it.

You pick yourself up off the ground and brush off some dirt, you then look up to see a pretty blue lady in front of you. She seemed nice, and it’d be rude not to say hello to her. "Hello, pretty blue lady." You give her a wave and a smile, which is happily returned by them.

"Hello! What's a cute little kid like you doing here all alone?" She kneels down and pokes your nose when asking, causing you to giggle.

"I’m exploring!" You state eagerly.

"Oh, I see. Where’s your momma and papa?" You look around before giving a shrug. "Do you have a momma and papa?" You shrug again, not knowing how to answer.

"Hey what’s that?" You ask pointing to the pendent on her waist. This caused her eyes to brighten more.

"This is my symbol of the Traveler, have you ever heard of him?" You shake your head and lean in closer to hear more. "Well he’s a really cool guy and can do really amazing things."

"Wow! That sounds awesome! Oh, I’m (y/n) by the way!" You say, realizing you forgot to introduce yourself.

"I’m Jester." Jester holds her hand out for you to shake, which you eagerly do.

"So Jester, what are you doing here all alone?" You ask, mimicking her earlier question. You see Jesters smile drop a little.

"I made a really powerful man reeallly angry, but he was also a big jerk so he had it coming, *sigh* but to stay safe I have leave home."

"Can I come! I love adventuring and exploring, it’ll be sooooo much fun with someone else too!" You bounce on your feet and look at her expectantly. Jester did like the sound of having someone to travel with and an opportunity to talk more about the Traveler, and by the looks of things you didn’t have anyone else with you (which is a little sad for someone still so young).

"Of course you can!" Jaester agreed, having you around seemed like fun not to mention you reminded Jester of herself when she was young and couldn’t wait to introduce you to the ways of the Traveler and all the mischief you two would make. What could possibly go wrong?

Nott

Being the young runt in a clan of goblins made things hard for you, being seen as weak and useless lead to them constantly bullying and pushing you around. One day while forced to help carry some of the heavy equipment for the torturer you had slipped up causing everything you carried to crash to the ground. You try to ignore the yelling and ridicule from the torturer but you could feel the tears pricking your eyes which lead to more yelling, you slowly pick yourself up and start going to grab the equipment. It’s then you notice the stares of the assistant on you, you duck your head down lower and continue about your prior job.

Nott watched from a safe distance as her "boss" yelled at the smaller goblin, she knew better then to intervene. Still she couldn’t help but feel some pity for the little one as she understood what it’s like to be bullied for being different, and she’d be lying if she didn’t admit to feeling her maternal instinct kick in for the child. When the torturer finally left Nott decided to make her move, carefully approaching them.

"It's no fun being bullied around is it." Her shrill voice causes you to stumble a bit. After a brief moment of pause you you slowly shake your head. "Do you even like it here?" You didn’t know what she was getting at, nonetheless you shake your head again. After a longer pause you figured the more one-sided conversation was done so you once again go back to heaving the equipment along.

"What if we could leave?" Now she had your full attention.

"H-how do we do that?" You voice came out quiet and scratchy, due to hardly using it.

"I’m not sure yet but I’ll figure something out."

"Ok… but why-why help me? I’m not very big or strong, I’d probably just hold you back." You look into her big yellow eyes in search of an answer, unsure if you could actually trust them.

"I used to feel the same, still do sometimes, but I think since we both don’t like it here we can help each other out." Being young the logic seemed sound enough for you.

"Alright, let's do it." You wanted to shout with excitement but kept you voice down not wanting to redraw the attention of the torturer.

"I’m…… Nott, that’s N-O-T-T." Nott gave you a faint smile, you stare at her with a confused expression which she catches onto. "Oh that’s right, you don’t know how to spell do you. That’s alright, can you tell me your name?"

"I don’t got one. They just call me runt because that’s what I am." You look down to the ground, suddenly finding it more interesting as you shuffle your feet about. Nott pondered on this for a moment before lighting up with an idea.

"How about I call you (y/n), has a good ring to it don’t you think?" The name sounded a little strange to you but in a good way, definatly not a traditional goblin name, still you liked it all the same. Giving Nott a nod and your first real toothy smile in awhile (hey that rhymed), you both decided to sneakily think of ways to free yourselves from the clan. What could possibly go wrong?

Caleb

The people here in Vergesson Sanatorium said you were psychotic. Being 5 you didn’t know what that meant, all you can remember is watching as the "pretty colours danced" and now you where here in this big boring building. They say it’s for your own good, that it’s the only place you’ll get the help and care you need. Again you didn’t quite understand what that was supposed to mean, you had asked if you could go home once but they said that this was your home now and it would have to be until you were older and fully recovered. Everything they said just left you confused and with more questions; why couldn’t you go home, what were you even recovering from, and many more all of which you never got the answer to. There were other people "like you" here but many of them didn’t seem much fun or up for a chat leaving you bored to wits end, but that all changed (when the fire nation attacked) when you bumped into someone while roaming around. You crane your neck up to see a man with messy reddish hair, next to him laying on the ground was a guard, you could recognize that uniform anywhere. The man then turns to look at you with a glare, you stare into his eyes for a moment before pointing to the guard.

"Is he sleeping?" It seemed like an odd question but you had always been a curious soul. The man looks between you and the guard, his glare having now turned into a deadpanned expression.

"Ja, he is." Is his responce to you before he starts walking away, you take this as a sign and follow him. Not without noticing a small red puddle by the guard as you pass them, however you just thought he must’ve had too much tomato juice before taking a nap. Continuing through the winding halls of the sanatorium you realize you’ve never been to this area yet.

"Where are we going?" You pipe up, causing the man to halt his movement in surprise so wrapped up in his objective he didn’t realize you had been following him.

"I am leaving." He put a big emphasis on the I hoping you take the hint, you didn’t.

"Can I come? Please it’s so boring here, everything’s the same, I wanna go outside and-"

"Stop!" You stop and look at him, his eyes calculating you, not that you would’ve caught onto that. After a moment of your little staring contest he mumbles something you can’t quite catch, other then the words "small" and "useful". "Very well," he says loud enough for you to hear now, "you may come along but you must listen and do exactly as I say, understand."

"Yeah, ok!" You couldn’t contain your enthusiasm, practically bouncing around, finally you could leave this boring place and go somewhere more exciting. You would’ve run to give this man a hug but he held up his hand, once again stopping you.

"First rule, none of this… over excitement. Second rule, stay as quiet as possible, we don’t want to attract any attention." You immediately stop and give a slight nod to show him you were listening, just like he’d asked. After what felt like hours of wandering to you, you finally find yourself back in the colourful outside world, it’s also at this time you realized you never gave this man your name.

"I just remembered that I forgot to tell you my name's (y/n). What’s yours?" You look to him expectantly, waiting for him to tell you his name. He turns to you, a slight annoyed expression on his face. Opening his mouth to say something he hesitates.

"My name… is… not important right now." He says, carefully picking his choice of words. "First we must focus on leaving the area undetected, and remember to stay quiet." You give a quiet "oh yeah" before following his lead and sneaking off. At last you were free from the sanatorium, with a strange and scruffy man… What could possibly go wrong?

Caduceus

You pushed through the thick vegetation that surrounded the area going as fast as your legs could carry you. You can hear your mothers words repeating in your head; "My child, you must hurry! Go! Seek help at the Blooming Grove!" You’d heard of the place before, from others in your clan, but never visited it yourself. None of that mattered at the moment as you continued to traverse through the sharp, thorny vines, giving little thought to the various cuts you were receiving. Finally after days of running and hiding you see a graveyard, and based upon what you were told it matched the description of the Blooming Grove. You only take a few steps forward before your knees buckle under you, the exhaustion of tireless travel and the various wounds having finally crept up on you to take their toll. You pass out soon after.

Another day of tending to the graves of the departed had become a pleasant routine for Caduceus, however he did have to admit it felt lonesome since the last of his family had left to seek a cure for the blight that plagued the area. The sound of a soft thud draws him away from his thoughts, he looks over his shoulder but doesn’t see anything at first. Slowly he makes his way over to the source of the sound and scans the area, surprised to find a rather young firbolg laying unconscious a few feet from the entrance of the temple. He scans the area again but finds no one else in the immediate vicinity, as he makes his way closer to the child he soon notices the many cuts and bruises that litter their body. It's as if some maternal instinct kicked in as Caduceus carefully gathers the child into his arms and brings them into the temple without a second thought. He gently lays them on one of his sisters beds and begins treating their wounds, patching up the smaller cuts with bandage and using his magic to heal the more concerning gashes that covered the youngling.

You slowly creak your eyes open and immediately notice your new surroundings, you also couldn’t help but notice the bandages that now coverered your arms and legs. "Good to see you’re finally awake." You shift you’re attention to the door where the pink haired firbolg stands with what looks to be a fresh kettle of tea. "I’m Caduceus." He says gently, seeing the slight confusion on your face.

"Ummm… hi. I’m (y/n)." Despite everything you find it hard to form words, settling on the awkward greeting. He laughs softly before setting down the kettle and pouring a cup of tea, the gentle aroma wafting around you. He silently offers you a cup which you happily accept, the awkwardness of earlier quickly melting away.

"So tell me (y/n), what are you doing here all alone?" He gives you a concerned look, you shuffle in place, trying to find the right words to use.

"My… my home got raided by a tribe of forest giants, my family tried to settle things calmly but they wouldn’t listen. My momma told me to look for help at the Blooming Grove, and from what I was told this seems to be the place." The was a long pause once you finished your story, the silence feeling suffocating the longer it went on.

"I’m sorry that happened to you, and while you did find your way here I… I’ve been the only one here for the last 5 maybe 6 years now." The information slowly sinks in and as it does your ears flatten and your tail wraps around your legs, curling yourself into a ball. Tears well up in your eyes at the thought of everything you did being for nothing, only when you felt Caduceus' hand gently place itself on your back did you snap back to reality and redirect your attention onto him. "It’s not all bad if you think about it."

"Wh-what do you mean?"

"You’re still alive and you were able to make through the dangers of the forest and find your way here without ever having been here before. I don’t think that’s just some coincidence, I believe you were guided here for a reason, that somehow someday you and I will have a greater role to fulfill."

"You really think so?" You rub the tears from your eyes a bit and give him a rather adorable doe eyed stare. He gives you a kind smile and nods. His words defiantly helped you feel a little better, and the both of you now had each other for company until destiny decided to call you elsewhere. What could possibly go wrong?

Part 2 will be out soon-ish (hopefully) with the rest of the Mighty Nein I didn’t feature here (obviously)

[tanoraqui]

[Part 1] [Part 2]

[now all on AO3!]

As Nie Huaisang pulls his horse to a halt, as he clumsily dismounts and begs his san-ge to speak with him in private and they walk off to the side of the road together, Nie Huaisang’s eyes down and his fan covering most his face in embarrassment, he thinks very quickly, and decides faster. He’d promised himself he would do that, next time something like this happened

Here is some of what he thinks:

if the lifeblood of Qishan was power and the heart of Qinghe is strength, then the vital spark of Lanling is appearance. Nie Huaisang has always admired this, even yearned for it - imagine being born to a sect in which it was okay to just sit around and look pretty! Sure, they go a bit overboard with gilt, but who wouldn’t, if they had the money? QingheNie has a fortress in the mountains; LanlingJin has a golden tower overlooking one of the biggest ports in the empire, trade and art and culture all within reach

Conversely, they also thrive on secrets - the dark side of golden, glittering appearance. They’re not so different from QishanWen like that, because information is power. That’s why gossip is a thing 

Nie Huaisang has no particular reason to distrust Jin Guangyao, personally. He’s always been very kind to Nie Huaisang, bringing him lovely new fans and paints and a beautiful finch one time. Da-ge doesn’t trust him, for reason of some things JGY did in the war, but da-ge has such high standards for conduct that it’s a miracle he trusts anyone after the Sunshot Campaign. (And it’d help if he told NHS anything about those alleged untrustworthy “things”...) Wen Qing doesn’t trust him, but in fairness, it was her side that he betrayed. That could sour anyone. Even putting aside the possibility that she’s deliberately sowing discord for some devilish Wen reason. 

Admittedly, anything that Nie Huaisang says to him will almost certainly get back to Jin Guangshan, unless it’s of a truly personal nature - and perhaps even then. Secrets and gossip and power, after all, and it doesn’t take a genius to see that Jin Guangyao is desperate to please his father

even if the old bastard doesn’t deserve it an inch

So the question is, what is Nie Huaisang comfortable having known, and to whom? What does he want to appear as, to whom? And what is he willing to risk coming to light?

He thinks very fast, and soon as they’re well-out of earshot of his disciple-assistants and newly acquired Wen grandmother, he flings himself into Jin Guangyao’s arms, wailing. 

(it’s a little difficult, because Jin Guangyao is one of the few men Nie Huaisang knows who’s shorter than he is.) 

“San-ge, it’s not my fault! It’s all gone wrong! I just wanted to get out of saber practice, but then Wen Qing told da-ge something completely different, and then she made be get a baby, and - ”

The whole story comes out, in stops and starts mixed with helpless, hapless sobs. Nie Huaisang downplays Wen Qing’s successes with his brother, or at least mostly ignores them. He mentions A-Yuan’s nightmares only so far as they inconvenience himself, doesn’t comment on the Wens’ state of life at all, and generally exaggerates every terrible and bewildering situation he’s found himself in since he first happened to glance at Jiang Yanli at Phoenix Mountain

He figures Jin Guangyao probably sees through at least 20% of it, but that’s okay - that’s only deep enough to pierce the outer layer of overdramatics, which are mostly embellishments of the truth anyway, and maybe judge that Nie Huaisang has a soft heart for a cute kid

it’s a very cute kid, okay. NHS saw Nie Mingjue sneaking A-Yuan a piece of candy once. No one is safe

he doesn’t tell Jin Guangyao that

Nearly an hour later, Jin Guangyao peels Nie Huaisang gently off of his (now quite tear-damp) shoulder and smiles at him. It’s gentle, sympathetic, and the only thing it seems to be hiding is a laugh

Nie Huaisang is 99% sure of this assessment. Fortunately, he’s free to let his relief show, along with some healthy trepidation

“I won’t tell da-ge,” Jin Guangyao says, and there’s barely any humor to be seen dancing in his eyes. It’s really impressive, now that Nie Huaisang is learning what to look for.

“Really?” Nie Huaisang sniffles. “I just- He tries so hard, you know. I don’t want to disappoint him, not really.”

it really is all about using the truth. if it wasn’t so stressful, it’d be an incredible high

“Of course not.” Jin Guangyao squeezes him gently by the shoulders. “What is a san-ge for, if not to look out for his littlest brother?”

Nie Huaisang could definitely make a crack about his height smiles shakily and flings his arms around JGY’s shoulders again. “Oh, thank you! Thank you for your help!”

Jin Guangyao hugs him back gently and efficiently, then starts to tug him back to the waiting horses and by-now-dismounted companions. “Go on, get your A-Yuan’s granny back to Nie Sect and get yourself a good night’s sleep. I’ll make sure they’re both marked correctly as requisitioned for labor in Qinghe”

Nie Huaisang thanks him several more times, wiping away his tears like someone who just remembered that he’s not supposed to appear so weak in public. Jin Guangyao waves goodbye as he mounts his sword and flies away, and Nie Huaisang waves back, and then he and his assistants and his newly acquired A-Yuan’s Granny ride home

[they’re never going to be relevant again but I want you all to know that in my mind, these two dumb bastards are brothers with rhyming names, like, Xi Ping and Xi Ying or something. RIP Xi Ping and Xi Ying and their eardrums after NMJ reams them out for helping NHS do something stupid again]

And then...

they actually have peace for several months. 

Oh, the cold war between Jing and Jiang - or more accurately, between Jin and Wei Wuxian - is still brewing like fine tea, and Nie Huaisang finds himself paying more attention than usual to the gossip about it, because Wens come up as often as not. They're the prime example of the destructive power of the Stygian Tiger Seal, after all. And NHS has four of them living in his house, now

the gossip spikes deliciously when Jiang Yanli and Jin Zixuan get engaged, though it somehow neither eases nor increases the tension in either side

{the timeline is rubbish anyway, so it’s whatever’s convenient for this fic, thank you very much}

Nie Sect’s physicians are too proud to let Wen Qing take over their infirmary wholesale, but they don’t hesitate to consult with her on pretty much everything. Wen Ning turns out to be pretty fun to play checkers with, whether he lets Nie Huaisang win or gets invested enough to actually put up a good fight. Despite Granny’s addition to the orphan-caring staff, A-Yuan still slips away most days and follows Nie Huaisang around like a particularly persistent curse-construct. On the plus side, he’s learning how to be patient enough that the bolder birds will sit on him as readily as on Nie Huaisang himself, and he painted an entirely acceptable butterfly the other day.

Oh, and the veins in Nie Mingjue’s neck are only visible when he shouts, now, and enough time has passed that he’s forgotten about Nie Huaisang’s earlier, rash promise to practice saber for an extra half hour each day. Or maybe he’s just resigned to the fact that such promises never last. This is truly the best timeline!

And then the worst happens, out of the blue yet in retrospect inevitable: Nie Mingjue has a severe qi deviation

He’s coming back from a meeting in Lanling, which wasn’t so much a discussion conference as Jin Guangshan calling a handful of sect leaders together to bitch about the Wei Wuxian and the Tiger Seal again. Wen Qing is in the infirmary, setting a young disciple’s broken leg. Nie Huaisang is in his bedroom, trying to write an ode to snowflakes that, read aloud, is a single tone off from a recitation of curse words for the entire poem. They both hear the shouting from the main courtyard

Wen Qing has a doctor’s reflexes; she leaves the leg to an assistant and arrives in the courtyard in time to watch Nie Mingjue collapse out of the air. The disciples who accompanied him to Lanling are there to catch him, ease him down gently, but Baxia clatters to the ground

Nie Huaisang sees it from his window. By the time he gets there, his brother is laid out flat and Wen Qing and the Chief Physician are snapping clipped phrases at each other as they assess his status, in the mode of emergency responders everywhere

the Chief Physician doesn’t like Wen Qing, doesn’t like Wens, but he can respect her medical talents. Both sentiments are mutual - Wen Qing has a much more comprehensive skillset, but if there’s anything Nie healers know, it’s how to handle qi deviation

qi deviations are difficult and dangerous to treat - the spiritual energy starts cascading through a cultivator’s body, untamed and harmful, and adding soothing energy may help but it may make it worse, or even cause the chaos to spread to the would-be healer

{I actually have no idea how any of this works, and will henceforth be making up my own worldbuilding}

Nie Mingjue’s eyes have rolled back in his head, bleeding, and he shakes like a leaf in the wind, incongruous to the warrior who led attacks on the Nightless City itself. Who held his brother like a guarding stone wall at their father’s funeral. Nie Huaisang cannot breathe

they get him stabilized enough to move up to the infirmary. Someone eases up their grip on Nie Huaisang’s body so he could follow (he won’t remember until later that he was being held back)

It takes four hours to stabilize him fully (unlucky). His golden core tries to collapse three times, his heart stops twice, and his fucking saber tries to attack them once, seemingly of its own initiative. Several other healers join in as needed, even Wen Ning - he’s always been good at getting seizing patients to still. Wen Qing rates it below the 39-hour golden core transfer with Wei Wuxian and Jiang Cheng, in terms of worst surgeries of her life, but above nearly everything else, including the emergency liver transfer where the girl turned out to have all her organs on the opposite side and a side order of demon-induced pneumonia

Nie Huaisang has been sitting in the corridor outside, on the floor. Someone's put a cloak on him. He looks up when they exit, forgetting how to breath again.

“He’s unconscious,” says the Chief Physician, who is probably some sort of distant uncle/cousin. “But he should wake. He will wake,” he corrects. 

Wen Qing takes a deep breath. “We need to talk somewhere private.”

By the time Nie Huaisang has at least gotten to see his brother, get proof that he’s still breathing, the First Disciple has joined them as well (I mean, that position is sure as hell not held by NHS). Her name is Han Xiaoshi and she’s built in the same mold as the sect leader: tall, broad, wields her saber like a third hand. She leans against the closed door of the Chief Physician’s office while the Chief Physician - let’s say Nie Fengji - gives a slightly less brief explanation of the sect leader’s current state. 

(it’s not good. he’s in a semi-medically induced coma. he is bleeding neither blood nor spiritual energy. he...should wake, in his own time, if they continue to carefully feed his healing energy)

(if he wakes within three days, he will be fine. for now)

Nie Huaisang’s blood pounds hot and panicked in his ears; an unthinking fan covers his face. 

they all turn to Wen Qing, who wanted privacy. 

Wen Qing soothes hands over her skirt, still blood-flecked, and lifts her chin calmly. Addresses the First Disciple more than anyone. “Before I begin, would you please put a guard each on my bedroom and the apothecary, and my brother’s room as well?”

“What? Why?” asks Nie Huaisang, bewildered. Han Xiaoshi echoes more sternly

She smiles thinly. “I’d rather not be accused of trying to assassinate Chifeng-zun.”

Nie Huaisang’s blood turns cold

“Keep talking,” says Han Xiaoshi

Here’s what Wen Qing explains: there’s an herb grown on the same volcanic slopes into which the Nightless City is set, a grass that absorbs so much yin energy from the volcano that it carries it over into anyone who consumes the stalks, offsetting the natural balance of their spiritual energy. A closely guarded inner clan secret. It can allow for rare, advanced cultivation techniques (including demonic ones)...or it can spark a fatal qi deviation the next time the user tries to do anything spiritually strenuous. Like flying from Carp Tower to the Unclean Realm

“It’s almost impossible to detect in the blood,” she finishes. “But I recognize the pattern of its effects.” Her hands are clasped loosely in front of her. “I wouldn’t be surprised to find some planted in a place that draws suspicion to A-Ning or myself.”

“Who else would know about it?” Nie Huaisang demands, trembling even as the ice is settles into his veins 

“Someone who was close to Wen Ruohan,” she says calmly

they all know who she means

(oh, how she wants to tremble, too, too aware of every sword in the room that could be turned against her. Aware of A-Yuan and Granny and Wen Ning, her brother in the corridor just outside, and how it still hasn’t been a year since Wen blood ran in the flagstones of this castle. But Wen Qing has never been one to shake)

“There’s something else I should say,” she admits, to Nie Huaisang more than anyone. “I don’t actually know much about qi deviation - I’ve had a crash course, obviously, and I’m not a fool, but I’m mostly been treating it as a blood pressure problem - ”

“Obviously,” the Chief Physician scoffs

“ - but my Uncle Six is a true expert. Wen Zhichen - he was friends with your aunt, Huaisang-gongzi; your older sister, Fengji-shifu [the previous Chief Physician, killed in battle in the fifth month of the Sunshot Campaign]. If anyone can wake Nie-zongzhi, it’s him - ”

she could have said this earlier, could have said it weeks ago, or even from the start - but she had Wen Ning to think of before anyone else, and then A-Yuan who was too young to have accumulated crimes even as a Wen...

Wen Qing had once noted that the second son of Nie had likely never felt fear, true fear, in his life. That’s not true anymore. His brother is unconscious in the next room over and it’s not sure if he’ll ever wake. And it’s consequences catching up with him again, for real this time, this maybe-first time - was it the Wens, villainous duplicitous Wens that he brought into their home himself? Was it someone else, equally traitorous, suspicion roused to a killing intent by something Huaisang did himself?

People do a lot things when they’re feel fear deep down to their souls. They scrape and bow; they make bargains they shouldn’t, accept costs they can’t. They bend or they break

Nie Huaisang is a fop by preference, but it turns out that he breaks like a Nie

He shoves Wen Qing against the wall, hand on her throat. “Tell me this isn’t a trick. Tell me this isn’t some fucking ploy to get more Wen-dogs into my home, so you can finish killing my brother.” He shakes her, drops the fan to put his hand on the saber he's terrible with (it still hums eagerly for blood.) “Tell me.”

“I am,” she gasps

There is a tableau. Then Nie Huaisang drops her and strides for the door. “Shijie, put guards on her rooms, her brother’s, and Granny’s,” he snaps to Han Xiaoshi. “Don’t let anyone enter. Gather the Wens all in the third guest bedroom and keep them there - make sure A-Yuan has some paints to keep him quiet. And I’ll need your two fastest - no, those with the best strength and endurance in flight - ”

“Nephew - ” says the Chief Physician, and “Young Master,” says the First Disciple, a little impressed and a medium dubious

the closest Nie Huaisang has ever gotten to this commanding before was the early days of the Sunshot Campaign when there were no battle lines to hide behind yet, when he sometimes followed Jiang Cheng and Lan Wangji as they tore across the country and directed the clean-up of their wake

“The best strength and endurance,” he repeats over them. The fan stays on the floor. “We’re flying to Qishan - we’ll be back with an extra expert for you in a couple days, Uncle. In the meantime, you can have Wen Qing if you need her, but otherwise they all stay in the third guest room.”

It takes a full day to fly to the Wen settlement in Qishan, at Nie Huaisang’s best pace. Starting already late in the afternoon, full of anger and terrified panic in equal measure, it’s beyond late by the time they near - and all but the anger has simmered away. Nie Huaisang lets them settle near the nearest halfway decent city instead, forces himself to lay on the ground and try to sleep, and sends one of his disciples out to buy the nicest fan they can find. He left so fast, he forgot to pick one up again

When they land in the filthy little town just after dawn, he stumbles off his sword more than lands (he is genuinely tired, at least) and runs to hammer on the door of the supervisory office, all terror and panic. “Jin-guniang! Jin-guniang! Help, help! It’s me, Nie Huaisang! I need - ”

“What?!” The captain yanks the door open (she sleeps above the office) and he very much does fall into her arms

“Ah, you have to help me!” He’s disheveled with flight and weepy with tears. “Wen Qing poisoned my brother and now he won’t wake up, so I have to find her sixth uncle - ”

“What - Nie Huaisang, what? Is she threatening - that Wen-bitch - ”

“No, no, we beat up her brother until she said - please! He’s the best at qi deviation, even Uncle Physician admitted it - ”

make sure to have Wen Ning beaten up just enough to look good, he notes in a small, back corner of his mind. in case there are spies in the castle. I’d have spies, if I could

“Okay, okay!” Jin Qixian ushers him into the office, half-holding him up. “Let me check the list of residences - sit down, Huaisang-gongxi, someone will brew tea...”

[five minutes later...]

“A different camp?” Nie Huaisang cries, fluttering his new fan in dismay

“They needed a healer...” Jin Qixian says apologetically. “But you just wait here, I’ll send someone - ”

“No, no,” Nie Huaisang gets to his feet, shaking his head. Happy to let the exhaustion of a 10-hour flight and 4 hours fitful sleep in the woods show, and the desperate helplessness that’s really not hard to fake. “I have to- Da-ge is counting on me - ”

He waves off all her attempted reassurances, bullheaded with anxiety, and accepts an officially sealed note of authority with babbling gratitude, and...

[about an hour and a half later...]

the other town the remnants of the Wen sect and soldiers have been relegated to is more of a city, really - cramped and filthy, where the other one was merely destitute and filthy. Families living all in one room or worse, and it’s okay because they’re only home to sleep; the fields are already filled with everyone old enough to work. They probably do need healers, because there’s not enough attention being paid to waste management. But - 

“What do you mean, he’s gone?” Nie Huaisang demands more sharply than he’d intended

Focus, A-Sang. It’s Nie Mingjue’s voice in his head, always, as though this was just another hated saber practice

“I’m sorry, Young Master Nie,” says the disciple in charge of this place - Jin Guangchao, another stray cousin. does everyone in that family spread seed like a watering can? “There was an incident a few days ago - ”

“He’s dead?” Nie Huaisang wails, sinking to ground

“No!” Jin Guangchao looks a little disgusted at his helplessness, but bends down to pull him up anyway. “Jin Zixun came around on an inspection and that one you wanted, he was impudent. Jin Zixun ordered him sent to the work camp at Qiongqi Pass.”

mother of fucking fucker [meaning Jin Zixun; meaning the whole situation]. the man probably made eye contact and that overbearing asshole - 

“That’s so far away!” Nie Huaisang whined, staying limp, crying into his fan

“Nie-shixiong, it is on the way - ” one of his disciples offers uncertainly (poor bastards - he’s really yanking them around. They’re not sure if they’re helping a con or offering real support)

“We’ll get him back to Chifeng-zun, and get Chifeng-zun back on his feet,” says the other, slipping her arm under his and pulling him to his own feet. “Come on, you’ll see”

(whether it’s for the con or not, Nie Huaisang appreciates it. They’ve never been this genuinely nice to him before)

there’s a conversation in the air halfway to Qiongqi Pass. It goes like this:

“Nie-shixiong, we have to rest. You have to rest.”

[gritted teeth] “I’m fine.”

“You’re going to fall off your sword.” (Liu Lifang, the older woman)

“Then you’ll carry me, won’t you? We’ll already have Wen Zhichen - we’ll double up.”

“Your, uh, dramatics - ” (Zhao Huandi, younger, male - there aren’t a lot of Nies, in Nie. There’s a lot of guest cultivators. There’s a lot of turnover.)

“Will be just as good, if not better, when I’m fainting from spiritual exhaustion.” [slightly bitter, mostly factual] “Don’t worry, I won’t deviate - I don’t use my saber enough for that.” [definitely exhausted] “We don’t stop.”

The work camp at Qiongqi Pass has all the bully-filled charm of Jin Qixian’s town and all the overworked labor je-ne-sais-quoi of the other one, and it’s started raining so there’s a really nice note of despair. If Nie Huaisang had any room left in his brain, he would mourn the beauty of the frescos being destroyed, grand and glorious works of art even if their glory was that of the Wens

he slides off Liu Lifang’s sword in the middle of the densest group of workers, cups his hands around his mouth and shouts, “Hey! Wen Qing’s Sixth Uncle, Wen Zhichen of DafanWen! Nie Sect requisitions you!”

the prisoner-workers all shrink away; an inspector hurries over. “Hey, who are you - ”

“You will respect Second Master Nie Huaisang,” snaps Zhao Huandi, hand on his saber while Nie Huaisang starts to cry on cue for the third time that day, and god, either they’re really getting it or he’s just blessed with a sect full of perfect straight men.

“Please,” Nie Huaisang begs, leaning on his disciple and waving the letter from Jin Qixian. “I need a healer - that healer, it’s my brother, he’s been poisoned - ”

they’re real tears of exhaustion. maybe he should have let them talk him into a rest

(Da-ge will be fine, he knows, he insists to himself and the world. He was stable 24 hours ago and Nie Huaisang left him with the most competent people he knows)

the inspector has no idea what to do with him and neither does the Chief Inspector, really, when he rides up. That’s perfect - it means their half-hearted objections are easy to push past

they’re still shit at actually helping, because they don’t know a single person in this goddamned work-prison, and all the Wens just shy away, or pick up a pickaxe and try to keep working if anyone comes too near. The inspectors seem to regard this as ideal

Nie Huaisang honestly doesn’t care right now, but he does notice

Finally Nie Huaisang has wailed loudly enough up and down the valley that one prisoner hesitantly steps forward and admits to being the Dafan Wens’ Sixth Uncle. He has Wen Ning’s ears and Granny’s eyes and the same needle callouses as Wen Qing, so Nie Huaisang calls it a day

except they still have to fly back to the Unclean Realm, a flight of six hours unburdened

Nie Huaisang’s groan is entirely genuine

Wen Qing has taken to pacing by the time the Chief Physician comes to fetch her, personally, from the third guest bedroom. Night has come and gone and come again; A-Yuan and Granny are both asleep in the bed and Wen Ning is lying beside them, though she can tell he’s only pretending to sleep to make her feel better. What a good boy. 

Sixth Uncle is sitting by Nie Mingjue’s bed in the infirmary, eating soup. There’s a couple Nie disciples in the room as well, one sending a slight stream of energy into Nie Mingjue and one simply watching the Wen, a hand on his saber hilt 

(no one’s told her if they’ve searched her or anyone else’s rooms, yet; if they found anything)

“Keep sitting and eating!” snaps Nie Fengji, the Chief Physician, before Sixth Uncle can leap up at the sight of Wen Qing. “I need you talking qi balance, not falling over again.” He mutters under his breath, “People can’t even work if you let them get so weak - can’t trust a Jin to do anything with care.”

She sinks to her knees to hug her uncle instead - and notices a cot that’s been brought in to sit beside Nie Mingjue’s, its occupant also as still and wan as the grave.

“Huaisang!” She springs to her feet. “He didn’t - ”

“Exhaustion. The boy overworked his golden core and passed out.” Nie Fengji pushes her back with a roll of his eyes. “Bullheaded as their father, the both of them.”

He rolls up his sleeves and nudges the attending physician out of the way, to take over easing calming energy into Nie Mingjue without a single quiver in the stream. “Now, you two prove to me why I should trust any sort of Wen.”

To be continued...but Part 4 really will be the last, so, that’s p good actually. By my standards of mis-estimation of how long a piece of writing will be. And it’ll definitely be a short one! Unlike this Part 3, which is...*checks* 4.5k WTF.

[starr-fall-knight-rise]

Humans are Weird, “Autograph.”

Wrote this between sporadic bouts of studying because I have the attention span of a flea and the motivation of a blob fish. So This is for those of you asking about what happened after “Movie Star.” 

He watched his shuttle hit altitude and then vanish into a pristine blue sky. The roaring of the engines faded away until there was nothing but the distant thunder of jet engines, so much quieter in comparison to the wild screaming of the spacefaring craft headed on her way back to the Harbinger, and a crew that would be captained by his second in command. It hurt him to think that someone else would be captaining his ship, that she'd be in deep space without him.

He wondered if this is what it felt like for a parent to leave their child for the first time.

It all just made his heart ache, and he had the sudden desire to call and make sure she hadn’t spontaneously combusted as soon as he had entered that shuttle leaving her on the docking port moonside.

“Yep, she totally exploded, the entire crew is dead and their ashes will forever float through space.” He turned his head to glower at Conn floating at his back and staring up into the sky with a grin.

“Shut the hell up Conn.”

“Make me.”

“Do I need to remind you that the only thing between you and a snapped spine is a gravitational chastity belt.” he snarled 

Conn adjusted the gravity field harness around his narrow-protruding hips, “Speaking of chastity belts-”

He held up a hand, “NO-no I am stopping that line of conversation right there.”

A gentle hand rested on one of his shoulders, and he turned to find Sunny standing over him her head tilted slightly to one side. The expression she had on was almost comical for an alien without human facial structures, “They’ll be fine.” Then she slapped him on the back making him stagger forward, “Now stop frowning, You should be excited.”

He straightened himself out adjusting his jacket.

To his side, Krill sighed and looked up at the sky with an almost longing expression.

“What’s your problem?” Sunny wondered 

The Vrul sighed, “The amount of time I spend on a class A death planet is really making me question my sanity.”

“You’re only now beginning to question your sanity?” Adam wondered wryly as he looked around the tarmac. Aside from a couple of baggage carriers, and people in bright orange vests, there was no one here, and no way to tell where they were supposed to go.

“Ha ha, funny ...Where are we going?”

“Guess we sort of just head towards the terminal?” He glanced towards the taxiways between them and the terminal and shook his head. That didn’t seem likely, but also…. There was no one here, “Or not…. I would expect at least someone to be here.”

Sunny crossed her arms in annoyance, “Seems kind of rude they would ask you to come and then just…. Leave you.” 

His eyes scanned over the tarmac once more, baggage carts, buggies, distant buses, a fancy black car, but nothing close by. He adjusted his bag over his shoulder, “May as well walk to those people over there and ask them. I don’t want to get in the way of the planes.”

Adam, followed by his extraterrestrial entourage slowly began heading in that direction. A bus rolled by them going the opposite direction, and the black car from earlier turned onto the same road to roll past. Adam kept walking.

“Commander!..... Commander Vir.” 

The group of them spun in a tight circle turning to face the car, which turned out to be a limousine, the front window rolled down, and a man in a dark suit leaning out.

Adam looked around like there was someone else by that name standing behind him before pointing at himself, “I ur…. Me.”

The man parked the car and stepped out reaching over to open the car door, “Mr. Ellis apologizes that he couldn’t meet you in person, but he hopes that you will find his personal car satisfactory. Adam blinked like a deer in the headlights, “Er… uh… are you sure you’ve got the right person?” He eyed the car.

“You stupid or something?” Conn wondered floating towards the door and vanishing inside the car, much to the driver’s confusion and surprise. He stared after Conn with wide eyes before turning to look at Adam.

“Believe it or not he's actually pretty tame for his species.” The commander sighed stepping forward and thanking the man awkwardly as he slid inside.

He wasn’t entirely sure if satisfaction was the word he’d use to describe how he felt. Everything, and he meant everything was extravagant and eccentric to the extreme. Crystal glasses, with the appropriate liquor, adjustable colored lights, heated seats in a fabric he couldn’t even name, the absolute definition of leg-room so that even Sunny was comfortable. There was a TV just above the far end turned to the news, a snack bar, a sun roof. He folded his hands in his lap afraid to touch anything for fear of damaging it.

Sunny scooted to sit next to him while Conn and Krill took the other side. 

Conn leaned back in his seat, “Not bad.”

“You would say that.” Adam muttered leaning a little closer to Sunny hands pinned between his knees so as not to touch anything.

Sunny had no such qualms sprawling out like she owned the place head resting back onto a fluffy set of cushions just before the window, “Now this, I could get used to.”

Adam disagreed, there was no way that he would ever be able to get used to something like this. In fact, at this moment he was wondering what he was even doing here, hanging out in famous people’s fancy cars with private drivers. He wasn’t special enough for something like that. In fact, he was a soldier, that was it, and arguably not even a very good one. He was just some lucky son of a bitch who had alien friends and a spaceship somehow by coincidence.

He should have been happy, but felt himself wilt internally as he looked around the car at all the fancy things.

Conn watched him from across the car but said nothing.

Unfortunately for him, Sunny caught the tension glancing between him and Conn. 

The were rolling out of the LAX tarmac as she spoke, “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” Adam interjected over Conn, who continued to speak through Adam.

“Boo hoo, oh woe is me, I’m not special enough enough to be here, I am just an average guy who's not even actually good at anything wa ... was.”

Adam snarled at Conn, “get the hell out of my head Conn.”

“You can’t just leave your mind dangling open for all your thoughts to flop out.”

“Thanks for phrasing the analogy that way Conn, I appreciate it.” he leaned back in his seat arms now crossed, “And yeah, I feel a bit out of place. I should be back up with my men doing something useful but here I am being treated all special by people who barely even know me. If they really did they wouldn’t be half as interesting. If they knew how half the stuff I did was pure dumb luck, or how i spend most of the scared out of my mind. How I’m not some kind of badass.” Sunny hummed deep in her chest, “Yes, the story of the man whose dumb lluck led him to being the most important human in the galaxy is totally boring. Yawn, I am falling asleep already.”

“You don’t even yawn.”

“Why do you think I said yawn instead of actually yawning then?” 

He growled, “My point is, I just feel out of place.”

“Welcome to being a celebrity Adam. Having dumb luck that put you in a position for people to look up to you. You think these people got here because they are ACTUALLY special. No, they got here because their parents were famous, or because they got into good acting schools when they were kids, or because they knew a guy. All of these people got lucky, aren’t actually special, and there are plenty of people out there more talented than they are, but at this point they are so famous no one cares anymore.”

Adam sat in silence contemplating the thought, “II mean…. When you put it like that.”

“You know it's because I am always right.” Sunny said smugly.

He turned his head towards the window watching the city pass by below them. LA was the largest and one of the most ancient cities on the continent. Of course it spoke nothing of a city like Rome or London, but it was still pretty impressive. The entire place was so shiny and white mixed with delicate greenery all built on the bones of the slums. Not only was LA one of the oldest cities on the continent it was also one of the richest. The further they went the nicer the already nice buildings got reaching towards the sky all shiny and white.

Massive mansions dominated the distance with high gates and private shuttle pads. 

The sky above them was dominated by flying cars, private shuttles, and the occasional jet. One mansion they passed by was so big, it seemed  as if the front facade went on for almost a mile intertwined with many decorative fountains and trimmed hedges upkeep exclusively by robots.

They turned down another street heading into the city with expensive outlet malls and large flashy brand names that probably cost as much as the warp core used to power his ship. He was both parts intimidated and stunned leaning towards the window to stare at all the strange people that walked the sidewalks.

He turned his head following a very excessively dressed man in a tailored ball gown that took up most of the sidewalk.

Where he grew up in the suburbs, there had been people who dressed according to plenty of other time periods, but the trend had been early 2000s mostly thanks to his mother who performed the modest almost utilitarian style of their clothing plus they had never been rich enough to afford new fashion. Jeans were cheap, easy to make, a staple of the poor masses. Not that they had been poor poor per say, after the war his father worked as a farmhand for Megafarm producing millions of pounds of produce, while his mother had quit teaching to pursue business in talor-making period accurate clothing for those who were into that sort of thing. As a result, his family had been middle middle class.

But this…. This was for the 1%. A place he had never even dreamed of seeing.

He looked down at himself again, shabby jeans, black T-shirt and a hand me down leather jacket from his older brother David, which had seen better days.

He sunk down in his seat.

They took another corner and pulled up to the gate. He craned his neck to look out the window glancing up to the large sign hanging over the gate which read.

HOLLYWOOD STUDIOS.

Named for the ancient strip of land which produced many of the early movies when film was in its infancy. Once famous for the land and the people who lived there, it was now famous for being the highest grossing film studio EVER. A powerhouse of film that practically monopolized the world of action. While a lot of people demonized the studio for being a monopoly on film, Adam could see why.

They made some good shit.

The gate buzzed open and they were driven inside. He HAD to get a better look rolling open the skylight and standing to look out the top of the car. Hundreds of people dressed in costumes, carrying props, cameras, equipment. Mouth open like an idiot he stared through open warehouse doors and onto virtual projected sets on which actors stood in full costume, or in motion capture suits. Camera men walked around in massive exoskeletons controlling up to ten cameras at once.

A dog trotted past with a handler, a dog that Vir recognized from plenty of movies in which she had starred tail wagging tongue lolling. He dropped back inside the car with wide eyes staring at Sunny who was also looking out the window with wide eyes.

The car came to a stop towards the end of the strip, but then picked up again rolling into one of the giant warehouses and pulling to  a stop. The engine cut, and the doors opened. He stepped out thanking the Driver.

“Commander Vir! Just who I wanted to see!” He turned just in time to catch Director Ellis, or more like be blinded by him, as he skipped up wearing his strange sequin suit and cat-eye glasses. Instead of going for the handshake the man grabbed him by the shoulders and shook him, “It’s so exciting to finally have you here. You will be so excited to see what we have done. Just like you said, being as accurate as possible’ it's been a real challenge, but I assure you, you will be so proud. We have done so much research, and I have talked to experts everywhere” 

A mousy little woman scuttled after him holding two cups of coffee looking frazzled and exhausted as she tried to keep up with her boss.

Members of the crew looked up from where they were standing and a few exclamations of awe went up, and he couldn’t blame them, aliens were pretty cool. Despite Conn being a total asshole, he cut an impressive figure of billowing white ribbon and slow ethereal movement.

The man pulled back eyes widening at Conn, “You will be an absolute bitch to animate,”

“Match his personality.” Sunny quipped stepping out of the car.

She was greeted excessively by the director as well as Krill.

A sizable crowd had gathered, and Adam stepped back intending to allow his non-human friends the attention they deserved.

That’s not exactly what ended up happening. Stepping out of the circle he heard a shriek that made him nearly leap out of his skin. He turned to find a young woman with large glasses wearing a grey suit and pencil skirt. There was a pile of papers and a clipboard on the ground at her feet like she had dropped them.

Her eyes were wide as she stared at him mouth open.

“Er…… are you ok?” He ventured leaning down to pick up her papers.

When he stood back up she was still frozen her eyes wide. He offered her papers back.

That broke her from her frozen state but beginning with her hands which started to shake frantically in front of her. The shaking grew wider and wider, her expression grew more excited and she began to leap up and down squealing, “No way, no way…. No way no way no way.” That devolved  until she was simply squealing with excitement. 

Adam stepped back in shock and confusion, “It’s really you I can't believe it!”

She rushed forward arms out then paused, “Can I?” Her expression was so innocent and excited, her eyes so wide that he didn’t know how to respond.

“Er ...sure.”

She nearly broke his back wrapping her arms around him and squealing in delight again knocking her glasses askew. He grunted as the breath was crushed from his lungs. Despite being tiny she was surprisingly strong, and he felt his feet lightening upon the ground hands held out to the side still clutching her clipboard.

She stepped back after a moment with a big smile, her glasses canted at an awkward angle, “Can i get a picture with you.” She begged 

He glanced over his shoulder still not convinced that she hadn’t mistaken him for someone, “Um, Are you sure. I Maybe you have the wrong person.”

She shook her head vigorously giggling, “No, I’d know you anywhere. Commander Vir, the first man to meet sentient life, participated in the Drev war, commanding the first fleet of interstellar ships. You are my HERO.” She looked at him with eyes so wide, so innocent and starstruck that he hardly knew what to say.

He wondered if maybe he was dreaming.

“Picture?” She pleaded

“Um ... uh yeah, sure I guess.” She squealed again this time causing him to drop her clipboard as she grabbed him by the arm pulled him in and whipped out her phone snapping at least ten pictures of them before letting him go. “Mr. Vir it is such an honor.” She was saying, “I’ve read everything about you, all the declassified transmissions. Like that time you saved an alien race from extinction, or that time you ran a marathon on a A-1 death planet, or or like the three times you've saved entire planets.”

“Oh I…. really?”

She nodded, “Yes, Mr. Vir.”

He rubbed the back of his neck, “You can just call me Adam.”

He was nearly defined in the next moment as she shrieked again and hugged him.

“What’s your name?”

She put her hands over her mouth eyes wide, “S-samantha, but- but my friends call me Sammy…..You can call me Sammy.” He blinked in confused surprise and a bit of self consciousness feeling himself go a bit red.

 She may have been star struck, but he was sort of struck by her being star struck. This had to be some sort of dream, even more confusing when he realized the circle of people he assumed had been there for his alien companions had ll circled themselves around him. 

Men and women, stage crew, and actors in motion capture suits gathered around wide eyed and smiling.

He spun in a slight circle staring around at all the faces.

A man stepped from the crowd, a young guy in a motion capture suit. He held out a hand, “Commander, Ezra Hemming. I Well I guess I’m the stunt double for…. For your stunt double? Keith Jenning.” 

“So? You’ll be doing all the legwork?”

The young man blushed.” I guess you could say that.” 

Did he seriously seem nervous? It seemed so strange, and all these people were looking at him, approaching him, wanting to talk to him. It was insane, he shook so many hands learned so many names in such a short amount of time. At some point there was a hydraulic hiss, and the crowd around him parted.

A woman walked towards them elevated on a set of robotic stilt legs, wearing a motion capture suit, and an exoskeleton that gave her an extra set of arms. Vir felt his mouth drop open. Rita Ortiz… the penultimate action hero casting choice, and someone he had a boyish crush on for…. Well a couple of years now. 

In her exo suit, she was as tall as sunny, which he assumed was the point, “Commander.” She said politely.

“Ms. Ortiz…. Er…. Can I….. get your autograph.” He stammered out feeling stupid almost immediatly, but to his surprse she broke into a wide smile.

“I was about to ask you the same thing. Make it a deal and trade mine for yours.”

He choked with a rather sporadic laugh not believing her in the slightest.

Some of the crowd finally noticed his alien friends and Ms. Ortiz seemed especially interested in sunny, for obvious reasons. The two stepped up to each other examining the other with a critical eye.

Sunny seemed pleased.

Samantha lurked next to him, and he had a feeling she was trying to be discreet, but it wasn’t working. He was still wigging out about this hardly able to believe it. At some point, someone grabbed him and dragged him towards the director's chair where Ellis was was talking to some of the writers.

He turned in his chair, “Adam…. May I call you Adam, Good, the writers and I were just going over the script, and well we have run into a few snags. You gave us a pretty detailed explanation on some of the things that happened, but this part right here, the part where you lose your leg….. It's very vague.”

Adam shuffled his feet awkwardly glancing over to where Sunny was showing the actress how to more properly move like a Drev. A few of the VFX people were there as well examining her armor, its color and debating how best to reproduce that in post. 

“Well I….. It was taken off during the Drev war.”

“I mean, yeah we got that, and not to push but…. Unless you want us to cut that part out.”

He glanced again towards Sunny.

“I…. its hard to talk about.”

A hand on his shoulder, “I understand, I quite understand….”

He mulled it over for a minute while the writers were talking heart hammering in his chest. He had never told Sunny…. Never really explained about his post traumatic stress related to that incident. Never really mentioned how long it took him to trust her, and he never would. 

He'd never fess up to the nightmares.

Because he didn’t want them to matter anymore.

“I can’t explain it to you but…. I can show you.” The group of them turned almost surprised, and he was honestly surprised at himself too. What he was about to do…. It was a bigger deal than any of them might assume.

“Sunny!” he turned, and the bright blue alien trotted over humming happily the way that Drev did. She seemed so happy, nothing like the creature in his dreams, his friend, his best friend.

“Yes?”

“I…. Well I need to show them how I lost my leg, hard to explain, so I thought we might show them.”

He watched Sunny carefully, and was probably the only one who noticed the slight wilt in her shoulders. The guilt flashing in her gold eyes…. Of course the thing in his dreams would never have felt that way, “Oh ... are you sure.”

He cleared his throat waving it off, “Of course, here.” he stepped forward motioning around the room, “I remember the rocks being sort of like this. There was a shallow sort of bowl like a pocket and some rocks here. There were actually a Tesraki and a rundi soldier right there, and I was over here.”

The crew, following his words began moving around the greenscreen landscape creating the sort of space that he was talking about.

“Now I had one of those older models M-23s pieces of shit, and a knife.” He reached out for the prop weapon offered to him, “And the drev had a spear.” He glanced towards Sunny, who was looking very, very uncomfortable, but someone handed her the prop spear. She looked down at it and swivel it in her hand like the thing was an extension of her body.

She didn’t seem particularly satisfied but didn’t say anything. He moved up onto the fake terrain, and she did the same looking over at him with concern. It was almost as if she knew that even though he had never bothered to tell her. 

He came up one side of the set while she came up the other; she had the spear held out ready, and he had the gun up. Of course, he dropped it on it’s sling when it supposedly overheated, 

He remembered this like it had been yesterday, how the rock had felt under his feet, the panic he had felt for the two defenseless soldiers she was stalking. He remembered panicking when the gun malfunctioned, he remembered how he wasn’t thinking straight. He remembered making the decision that cost him his leg.

He didn’t bother trying to go easy on her, catching her around the neck and raising his hand with the collapsable knife.

The world began to spin, and before his eyes he saw the ash and fire.

He heard the gunfire felt his body moving as it once had. Saw the dark shadow, heard the screaming and felt the hot air over his body. He remembered the knife biting into her skin. He remembered being thrown to the ground.

Set lights flashed around him as he slammed into the floor, padded but still painful as he rolled to the side. Sunny’s foot came down right next to his head as he rolled to the side cutting at her heels.

The creature reached down to grab him, but he rolled to his feet cutting at the hand.

He remembered the sweat trickling down his body from the great heat of the volcanoes. He remembered how the ash had coated the stone making things strangely slippery. He remembered the poorly equipped gear and the oversized shoes.

He remembered slipping backwards landing hard on his back as the spear cut downwards.

He remembered bone cracking and flesh splitting in half.

He braced for pain but none came. The fire died, the ash vanished, and he found himself on the ground hands over his face, a spear tip lightly grazing the outer carapace of his prosthetic leg. Sunny stood over him spear held in one of her lower arms. Though her posture was ready for a fight, her eyes….. So much more expressive than that of the creature he remembered from his vision, looked at him in worry and something that looked like pain.

He lay on the ground looking up at her, at her mercy, just like he had been on that day.

And he knew she wouldn’t hurt him.

She withdrew the spear and stepped back offering one hand to him. 

He didn’t hesitate to take it, and she hauled him to his feet.

Together, they turned to look at the spectators who were looking on in awe,and shock.

Quietly sunny began, “Our orders were to remove their limbs…. In our culture Disability IS death. We thought that simply removing their limbs would stop them…. We were wrong.”

Adam tried to keep his voice light, “I don't remember much, but I crawled about ….50 feet down that hill before someone managed to find me and stabilize me. The leg was completely gone, no hope of reattaching something that’s just gone.”

“That was….. Intense.” Ellis finally cut in, “We should have had some cameras rolling dammit. Can we recreate that!” He began ordering his men around, and for a moment, the two of them were forgotten in the crowd. He stood there quietly noticing on the instant as two pairs of arms wrapped themselves around him. Enveloping him in an armored hug that almost completely encased him…. Safe.

A voice at his ear.

“Don’t EVER make me do that again.”

He placed a hand over hers, “Never, I promise.” 

[lotr-mkg]

Prologue Recap 1/2

Train, car, plane, or boat— whatever mode of transportation brought you here today, you find your feet now planted firmly on a sturdy, wooden dock that extends far into the choppy waters of the Norwegian coast. As your breath condenses into small clouds, your lungs fill with the crisp Arctic air, but thanks to the encroaching spring, you’re surprised to find it's not as bone-chilling as you had expected. Some would perhaps call it invigorating, even, a wake-up call to the reality that you, out of tens of thousands of applicants, were one of the lucky individuals selected for the premiere season of Love on the Rocks.

Twenty contestants from around the world are brought to a port in Norway where they wait for the cutting edge cruise liner, the Boreal Tryst, to send them off on their journey for love and romance. Despite the chilly conditions, the players begin to get acquainted with each other, some... seeming to hit it off better than others. A few people seem a little too keen on taking a dive into the icy harbor waters, a few seem to know a little too much about sinking ships, and a few seem a little too invested in the anatomy of birds--but hey, you can say whatever you want when the cameras aren't rolling, right?

After boarding the ship, they're greeted by a holographic figure, claiming to be their host.

"Hiiii!" the woman sing-songs. "You all must be so excited to be here! Not that I know what excitement feels like, but I’ve been told that it’s supposed to be pretty heart-pounding! I do not have an anatomical heart either, but with that description, I suppose it must feel something like love!”

"Oh my goodness. Where are my manners? My name is Fractal Emitting Photonic Judiciary Assistant, though I am aware that this a bit longer than most human names, so you have been given clearance to call me FrEγJA, or... just Freyja! I have been told this is the same name as the Norse goddess of love and fertility, though I am no goddess--just a computer program! What you see now is a hologram that has been developed so that I seem more personable when communicating with you. Like the goddess, however, I think love is a beautiful thing, and I am here to facilitate that connection to its fullest!”

“I control everything on the ship from the navigation, to the dining, to the temperature of the pool, to even creating the peeeerfect mood lighting if you’re spending some time with your special someone! I will also be your host for each of the challenges you get to face. Given my capabilities, I was told that I would be a much more accurate judge than the error that is possible when dealing with humans!”

After further introductions to Freyja, the group is sent off to mingle with each other for a few days before the show is set to begin. They're provided with an icebreaker activity to get to know each other, with the person who receives the highest number of correct answers promised a secret prize at the end of it all...

“In a few days, we’ll start working out specifics for the show and kick off with our biiiig introduction, but for now, the producers thought it would be a good idea to get everyone settled in while we make our way out to sea. So, we put together a little icebreaker activity for you, which you’ll find has been sent to your Rimekeeper! I have been told that ‘icebreaker’ means a way to get to know one another while reducing the tension of being in an unfamiliar place and surrounded by unfamiliar people. I have also been told that it refers to a ship that can break through ice. I do not understand why the same word has these different meanings, but I’m sure there’s poetic value in it somewhere.”

“That said, the activity is simple! You have been given a list of ‘fun facts’—” Freyja uses air quotes and everything “—about your fellow contestants. Each fact corresponds to one individual here, and when you have correctly identified this fact as theirs, you may write that person’s name in the corresponding box. The contestant with the most points in two days time will receive a special prize from our production crew, so do your best, okay? Have fun! Learn your way around the ship! And, most importantly, learn about each other!”

"See you all again soon!"

[lieutenantcharleslorem]

Chapters: 1/3 Fandom: Star Trek: The Next Generation Rating: General Audiences Relationships: Data/Geordi La Forge Additional Tags: daforge - Freeform, AU, Alternate Universe - Steampunk, Goblins, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Mermaids, Pirates Summary:

The Corsair ship Enterprise is not exactly a pirate ship, but they do what they have to to get by on the high seas. Without someone knowledgeable in steam mechanics that becomes even harder. Data is a gear filled robot who can be wound like a watch, and Geordi is merman who cannot see above water. But perhaps this odd friendship could solve some of their problems.

Hi! This was written for a commission for @datalaur​. This takes place in a weird vaguely steampunk, D&D type universe where certain alien species names are interchangeable with mythological names like trolls and goblins, and everyone calls Data a robot. The world building isn't perfect, but I still think it's a good time. 💜 (Here’s a link to chapter two)

 CHAPTER ONE

The sea rippled in the wind, and the ship creaked as the sails were turned.

“Captain,” said the first mate, “We can’t go on like this.”

“What do you want me to do, Will? Stop and ask for directions?”

“It’s not just that. When we go into battle, we can’t have you and the rob’ut shoveling coal.”

“There’s so much more to it than that.”

“Well then? That’s my point. We’ve got to replace O’Brien. I know you were holding out hope, but when we dock at the ninth port again, sure he’ll sing songs, and welcome us like old friends, but he’s not gonna be convinced to go back to the life of a corsair. Not now that he found someone who could love that ugly mug of his.”

The Captain sighed. “You’re right. But Data knows this ship better than anyone—”

“The rob’ut can’t fix himself, Picard,” Riker spat. He steeled himself and tried to speak more respectfully. “We need a new crew member. Even if he doesn’t know the engines, if he’s got a mind to learn, if he can figure Data’s gears, he can pick up slack. Because we need you both on deck, sir.”

“Captain, I’m afraid I have to concur.” The gears in Data’s shoulders creaked as he turned the wheel and changed their course. “Not only that we need an extra crewman, but that we should stop and ask for directions.”

“Data…” Picard said, frustrated, “Who do you suppose we ask. A siren?”

“I propose we anchor along this approaching landmass,” replied Data. “There are signs of life.”

Picard removed his spyglass from his pocket and took a look at the approaching shore. There was smoke in the distance and a path cut through the trees. There was no way to tell if these people were friendly, but they were certainly people.

But Captain Picard was nothing if not an adventurer. If he had been afraid to meet new and mystical species on faraway shores, he never would’ve found Data, or Worf. Even Troi was half Elvin, and they’d all learned to live with her mind trickery. While the old girl, Enterprise, was just beginning to take on this diversity, Picard suspected there were pirate and privateer ships in which humans were the minority.

When they anchored a few hours later, the crew was informed to sit tight while the Captain and Worf sought out the people to make sure it was safe.

The first thing Worf noticed about the locals was that they didn’t seem all that mysterious. They looked human. The only difference being that his humans kept themselves better trimmed.

“Trespassers,” said one of the men.

“We mean no disrespect,” said Picard, putting his hands up to show his open palms. “We’ve only lost our way. We don’t mean to intrude.”

“You have a Klingon with you,” said one of the women.

“This is Worf,” said the captain. “He is a friendly Klingon. He wasn’t even raised on the mountains of Kronos. He was raised among humans.”

Worf nodded. He resented his trustworthiness being equated with how human he may be, but now was not the time to be offended.

“What are you doing here?” asked the man.

“We’re lost,” said Picard. “We’ve been tasked to find the Goblin homeland. They’ve stolen some inventions—”

“They’ll gut you for your latinum.”

“Alas, we have none at the moment. We will be paid for retrieving the machinery.”

“They won’t stop to find out what’s in your pockets. They’d sell the clothes off your corpse.”

“We are familiar with the goblins, and their confrontation tactics,” said Worf, “Money is no doubt the reason for their thieving, not a hope for technological advancement. However, were they to sell to an enemy, the human government would not be pleased.”

“I see. Privateers then?”

“You could say that,” said Picard with a smile.

“Hmm, the kind of privateers who are also pirates, or the kind with a certain code of conduct?”

Picard and Worf shuffled their feet.

“It depends on your definition of pirate,” said Worf. Picard shot him a look that told him to keep his mouth shut.

“We definitely have a code of conduct,” Picard assured them. “You have nothing to fear from us. We’re only asking a little help…”

“You’ve gone too far,” said the woman.

“Excuse me?” asked Picard, wondering what he could have possibly said to prompt this response.

“You’ve gone too far,” she repeated. “That’s how you got confused. You went too far north. It happens. Goblins are southeast of us. We could maybe mark it on a map, but can’t say how accurate it would be. None of us are cartographers.”

“If you’re willing to look at a map that would be great. But you’ve already helped. Thank you,” said Picard.

“You look weary,” said one of the men.

“You might stay,” said the other. “Assuming you are not pirates.”

“Oh, oh that’s very generous, but we should be on our way,” replied Picard.

“Suit yourself, but Jeham used to live the ship life, and any chance to spend a moment on land was cherished later when the chances didn’t come. If you would like to stay a short while we would not object.”

“Well… I don’t know how much time we can waste. But we will tell the crew that they are free to explore for the time being.”

“Explore?” asked the woman.

“Would that be a problem?”

“No,” said the man. “But there are some areas that are… not as safe.”

Picard nodded, not wanting to make a fuss. “Worf, why don’t you go back to the ship and let the crew know we’re welcomed.”

“But Captain—”

“I’m sure I’m safe with our new friends, Mr. Worf.”

Worf looked back and forth between them, nodded, and disappeared through the trees.

“I never asked your names. I am Jean-Luc Picard.”

“I mentioned Jeham,” said one of the men, pointing a thumb to the other. “And my name is Di.”

“And I’m Reese,” said the woman.

That evening they sat around a large fire. Some stood, some walked around, but they fit nearly 200 people into a clearing, Picard’s salty crew mingling idly with this sandy group of families. The doctor had disappeared somewhere. The Captain hoped she was having fun. Data stood very close to the circle around the fire, wanting to be included, but not wanting to take a warm place to sit from someone who would be comforted by it.

“May I ask you a question?” said Data quietly.

“Only if we can ask a few back,” said Reese.

“Of course, please do. I was wondering, you do not look terribly different from us, and you speak human, but—”

“We are human,” replied Di.

“This is only a settlement,” said Jeham. “I used to work on a ship too, but I’d been looking for an out for a while when my ship stopped here. I decided to stay, after I met everyone.”

“Most of the originals came to get away from the black fog of the big cities. We live a little simpler here,” said Di.

Data’s face fell, if only minutely, and he said, “You came here to get away from machinery.”

“Perhaps, you could say that,” said Reese, “But we have no problem with machines. Only the smell of industry.”

“What are you?” asked Di, standing up to look more closely at Data’s skin, “A robot?”

“Yes.”

“Who made a thing like you? Is he with the crew?” asked Reese.

“No. My creator was lost at sea many years ago.”

Di reached out and ran a finger along Data’s forehead and down his nose. “You’re not like any robot I’ve ever seen.”

“I wouldn’t imagine we’re up on the latest trends, Di,” said Reese.

Di continued trailing his finger down Data’s face, and Data resisted the urge to shudder when he reached his lips. Though he would’ve preferred Di ask permission, he couldn’t deny that in some ways Data enjoyed the stimulation to his- his what, he wasn’t sure. He had speculated that he had artificial nerve endings, but it was far beyond the realm of any science in the land. There were rumors on the ship that Soong had not just used engineering, but magic to bring Data to life. But if it was true, that didn’t change that the robot still needed to be wound.

As the feel of Di’s fingers on his neck suddenly became absent, Data realized he had shut his eyes. He opened them abruptly and whispered. “I am… one of a kind.”

The captain cleared his throat. “Perhaps we should do a little exploring in the morning before we leave. Get some exercise before we have to be cooped up on the ship. If you could suggest any trails…?”

“We could take you to look at some pretty areas, but you shouldn’t go off alone,” said Reese.

“Oh, I’m sure we could handle any animals that might come our way.”

“It’s not that,” said Di. “You don’t want to go very far from shore. You don’t want to get near the water.”

“Water?” asked Worf, “What do you mean near water but away from the shore? That does not make sense.”

“There is something of a lake, but it drains in from the ocean and it is quite deep.”

“Everyone on our crew can swim… Except for Alyssa,” said Data.

“It’s not about that either. This is the good water.” Di gestured behind him. They couldn’t see the shore through the trees but knew it was in that direction. “It’s mighty shallow. Just stay away from the rivers and estuary. They’re deep.”

There was an awkward silence as they tried to figure out if they should keep asking questions, and then there was another voice in the darkness.

Troi walked up to the fire seemingly out of nowhere. Her skin appeared to glow in the fire light, and they could see the smallest bit of her brazier at the opening of a men's collared shirt that was a little too big for her. She whispered, “I get the sense you don’t actually want us to know why we shouldn’t see these deep waters.”

“It’s the creatures,” said Jeham.

“Jeham,” warned Di.

“What kind of creatures?” asked Picard.

“I’m sure you’ve heard of sirens,” said Reese.

Data cut in, “The captain mentioned them this morning.”

“Then you know.”

“I know of myth,” said Picard. “I know of imaginary creatures,”

“I doubt you’re so cynical. With a Klingon, and your mechanical man. You would question the possibility that sirens exist?”

“An entire race that is solely female and dedicated to killing sailors? I’m afraid it does cast some doubt.”

“They aren’t only female,” said Jeham. “And they’re not sirens… They’re merfolk. They’re just a species like any of the ones we’ve seen. We’ve all met groups of people that seemed scary,” he glanced at Worf, “and we’ve all met people with a special ability or two.” Now he looked at Deanna but looked away when she caught his eye.

“Well, now you make it sound like they’re just new friends to make.”

“No,” said Di. “People have tried. The merfolk seem friendly sometimes. But this is where the siren myths come from. They’re intelligent. They make you feel things. They can control your emotions.”

“I have no emotions,” said Data.

“Excuse me?”

“They could not possibly control my emotions; I am not capable of feeling emotions, as I am a machine.”

Di sighed. This conversation had gone on longer than he would have liked.

“Fine,” he said, “Chance it, Robot. But don’t blame me when you are dragged into the sea.”

“Well, perhaps if we have time,” said Data.

Troi slid into the circle and sat down in front of the fire. “Now what are the chances that you lovely people happen to have marshmallows?”

Things had stayed friendly and hours later, after everyone had agreed to call it a night, Data sat in front of the dying fire.

Since he didn’t sleep, he was often presented with extra time to occupy while those around him were unconscious. On the ship he usually continued navigating.

There was a pull on the gears of his ticking brain. Almost a tingle to his mind. He wondered, if he were human, would this be the need to be rebellious? After all, he was never a child, neither a teenager.

He needed, like an unquenchable curiosity, to go find the deep waters Di and the others had spoken of. He wasn’t afraid of what he might find there, for he couldn’t feel fear. Even if he could, he also couldn’t feel pain, so there was really nothing to be afraid of.

He got up quietly after the fire had gone out. He didn’t want to ruin their fire pit by extinguishing it or leave it unattended while burning. But now, in the light of only the moon he got up quietly and crept beyond the clearing, heading away from the shore.

It might have taken a biological being a few hours to navigate through the many trees and over jagged rocks, but Data did not tire, and found the estuary before sunrise.

The water here seemed different than that which he had sailed on for many years. This was eerily calm, and the moon shone off it in such a way that made it appear to glow.

Data sat down at the edge of the water, and waited. Nothing happened, but that was okay. He thought about navigation, and the mission they were on, and watched the sunrise.

Just as he was thinking perhaps he should return to the clearing, something in the water moved. Slowly a dark face emerged, with completely gray eyes, like nothing Data had ever seen.

“Are you waiting for someone?” the being asked.

“I suppose I was waiting for you,” replied Data.

“I've never heard your voice,” he didn’t look directly at Data as he spoke. “You don’t live here.”

“No, I’m a corsair.”

“I… I’m afraid I don’t know what that means.”

“I sail… on an independent ship.”

“You’re a pirate,” said the man in the water.

“… We don’t like to hurt people.”

“I’m not here to judge you.”

“What are you?”

“Isn’t it obvious?”

“You are a merman?”

“If the name suits you.”

“Do you have a name?”

“Do you?”

“My name is Data.”

“A name befitting a mechanical man.”

“You knew I was a robot?”

“I can hear your body tick.”

“But you cannot see me.”

“Merpeople don’t see the same way land folk do.”

“Oh, I understand.”

“Mm, I doubt that.”

“Well, it is true that I probably cannot imagine how you process sensory input, but I also can’t imagine how any biological being does such things.”

“You experience your senses differently than everyone you meet, don’t you?”

“I have yet to meet anyone like me. Other robots do not…”

“They do not compare.”

“I suppose not. Some people think my creator was a genius. Others think he was mad. I’m sorry to say I am sometimes in the latter category… You never told me your name.”

“Geordi.”

“Is that a common merfolk name?”

“Not particularly.”

“I understand that you see differently than humans, but it appears as though you do not see me at all.”

“I saw you when I approached, but we are adapted to the water. We lose certain things above it. But others change. Everything is louder above water as well.”

“If I were human I would get in with you.”

“Excuse me?”

“I would hold my breath, and swim with you, so we could see each other properly. But I can’t get water in my gears.”

“Sailing seems like an odd job for someone who can’t get wet.”

“Well, I can get a little wet. But it could be troublesome to be fully submerged. It’s correct that if I fell overboard, I would most likely die, but that is true of most of the crew when on the high seas.”

“You’re quite the interesting device, aren’t you Data?”

Data didn’t respond.

“I’m sorry,” Geordi said suddenly. “That was rude.”

Data smiled even though he knew Geordi couldn’t see it. Just acknowledging that it was possible to be rude to him was more than some people gave him.

“I’ve been called worse than a device,” said Data. “And definitely worse than interesting.”

“Well, you are. Interesting, I mean.”

“I find you fascinating as well.”

“I’m really interested in mechanology. I hope you don’t mind me saying. It’s just, that sort of learning is limited when you live in water.”

“I would imagine.”

“I’d love to get a look inside you. I mean… that came out wrong.”

“You do not have to worry about offending me. I have learned over my time as a corsair, that it is not the words, but the feeling behind them.”

“Well, I mean, I can’t really get a look.”

“Figure of speech, I assumed.”

“Yes, well, I’m sure it would be terribly invasive to… to…”

“Examine my mechanics? If it were something you would enjoy, and you would not change anything—”

“Oh, of course not! I would never tamper with you without your permission.”

“Then you may open the compartment on my back,” Data said, unbuttoning his doublet. “I only ask that you dry your hands first.”

Geordi’s eyes widened. “Yes, yes of course I will.” He floated awkwardly for a moment before scrambling to get up onto land with Data. He fumbled as he couldn’t see the edge of the rock. Hands reached out and took hold of him around the waist. If he hadn’t known any better, he would’ve guessed them biological hands. The only sign that there was a difference was how effortlessly Data lifted Geordi out of the water, and sat him gently next to him.

Geordi’s tail hung off the edge and into the water but the rest of him was visible, and Data took in the details before handing Geordi a handkerchief and turning away from him.

He pulled the silk shirt he’d been wearing under his doublet over his head, not bothering with the buttons. Geordi finished drying his hands and felt out in front of him. He slid his hands down Data’s smooth back, finding in the middle, something like a key.

There was that feeling of Data being touched again, but this time it was invited.

“Does this keep you going?” Geordi asked, fingering the key.

“Yes, turned clockwise it winds my gears, but if you turn it counterclockwise—”

“I can unscrew it and open this hatch. And it won’t cause you any problems?”

“No.”

Geordi did as Data said, placing the key off to the side, and sliding open a door in his back. Data had of course been worked on and examined before, but this was somehow different. Geordi had to feel the parts to understand what was in front of him and Data could almost feel it himself. Geordi’s soft slick hands running along the springs and wires.

“There’s lots I could do back here,” Geordi said lazily fumbling over some screws. “Are you always so trusting with people you’ve just met?”

“No,” Data replied, eyes closed, “Never.” And it almost sounded breathy to Gerodi’s ears.

“Well, I’ll take this as a compliment… Ow.” Geordi pulled his hand away abruptly.

Data glanced back and saw Geordi put his finger in his mouth.

“You have burned yourself.”

“Nah,” said Geordi. “Just hurt for a second.” He went back to his examinations. “I see, so you breathe to keep this cool right here.”

“Yes.”

“It’s like you’ve got a little engine roaring away inside you. It’s amazing.”

“Do you… know anything about engines?”

“A little. I’d love to learn more.”

“Data!” said a voice in the distance. It was the captain.

“I have to go now,” Data told Geordi, like he was telling a playmate that his mom said dinner was ready.

Geordi nodded and shut the compartment. He felt around for the key before fumbling to screw it back in for Data. Once it was in he kept turning.

“All wound up.”

“Thank you,” Data whispered.

“Data?” shouted Dr. Crusher.

“I am here,” replied Data pulling on his shirt. “No need to go any further, I will come to you.”

He buttoned only a few of the buttons on his doublet before going to stand, but Geordi stopped him while he was still on his knees. He reached out and took Data’s hand.

“Will you be back?” Gerodi asked.

“Back?”

“Will I see you again? I’ve never met anyone like you.”

It wasn’t lost on Data that the merman called him one instead of thing. Data had to admit that though he had only known the being for all of 20 minutes, he wanted to promise he would be back. But it was not a promise he knew he could keep.

Data debated whether he would be overstepping a boundary for .3 seconds, and then decided to place a hand on Geordi’s cheek. “I will try,” he said honestly. Geordi shivered. “You are cold. You should return to the water.”

“Data, please inform us of your location,” said the captain.

“I will be right there, Captain.”

Geordi stayed on land for a few more moments to listen to the sound of Data’s footsteps as he walked away.

Beyond some rocks in the thick of trees and vines, Data found the captain and the doctor searching for him.

“I apologize for the inconvenience, Captain.”

“Out looking for mermaids, Data?” said the Captain with a smirk.

“Of course not, Captain. I would never go looking for something someone told me could be dangerous.” Data had recently begun to master facetiousness. He found it easier than sarcasm, because it didn’t require the same bite.

“Oh!” replied the doctor with a smile, “Of course not.”

“Well, I hate to interrupt our recreation, but we’re trying to get some maintenance done as quickly as possible so that we can be back on the sea before noon.”

“Captain, will we be coming back?” asked Data.

“Back?”

“To this shore…”

“There were no plans to. I know this is no concern of yours, but it depends on where our next meal is coming from.”

“I understand, this little village, of sorts, is not particularly profitable.”

Data was silent for the rest of the morning as they prepared to leave. He spared one passing glance at the shore as he steered the ship back onto the high seas.

With the locals’ changes to their maps they were able to find goblin territory faster than they expected. They came into port in the late afternoon as the sun was setting, and they had a plan before midnight. Goblins were ruthless, but they were also easily scared.

They would beat them at their own game, and retrieve the technology from right under their noses. Under cover of darkness, the captain, Riker, Data, and Worf, crept through the city. They took along a few crewmen who were new to the seas but could provide a little muscle. All of them pulled up their hoods against the rain. They’d been told before they came that it never stopped raining in goblin territory. But they hurried despite their discomfort. They could not be seen under any circumstances. This was not a place they could blend in. Their height alone would make them stand out to any goblin.

They inched into the building where they’d heard it was being held. They were fairly certain the goblins they’d interrogated were telling the truth. It had taken what little latinum they had left, but every goblin has their price.

Inside there were many locking mechanisms, but it was nothing Data couldn’t handle. Though he hadn’t been designed for theft, thieving from thieves brought exceptions. Being a corsair brought oh so many exceptions.

Coming down a hall, lit only by a torch, was the final door. Behind it should be the stolen machine. It was wood, and shorter than human doors, as had been all the doors in the building. It was covered in chains which the goblins no doubt thought were strong. Worf took a chain in hand on one side, and Data took it on the other. Pulling against each other like they might play tug-o-war, one of the links near the middle gave way and opened, and the chains fell apart.

The captain pushed the door open and ducked into the room. The device’s silhouette was monstrous in the darkness of the room, but Picard could tell they could get it through the door if they carried it on its side. After all, the goblins had to have gotten it in here somehow.

Squeezing it through the door and down the hall with the strength of a robot, a Klingon, a Bolian, and 3 humans was easier than expected. They shuffled out of the building, and were almost home-free when they heard a footstep.

A little clay colored boy with the biggest ears they’d ever seen screeched and pointed at them. Suddenly the sound stopped and the boy was on the ground. Worf had put down his corner of the device and hit the little goblin in the back of the head. He flinched as he looked at him. No one on the ship enjoyed when their adventures came to such things. Stealing and defending oneself was one thing but hurting innocent people never felt good.

“He should be fine,” whispered Data.

Worf nodded and picked up his end again and they were able to get it onto the ship uninterrupted.

As they rushed out of dock, wind in their sales, it almost seemed too easy. The simplicity was almost dreamlike, being so unsettling and anxiety inducing, that it was almost a relief when they heard goblins shouting in the distance. Something about profit.

And then, there was just enough light from the moons to see a ship gaining on them. It was a strange looking ship, with little cohesion, different colors and shapes that reminded them of other races they’d met along the way. It was almost as if the goblins had built the ship from spare parts of other ships they’d come across, purchased, or robbed.

The word Ferengi was messily painted on the side. It must’ve meant something in the goblin language, but they didn’t know what, and didn’t have time to think about it.

There was yelling and swift conversations as they heard cannons go off. Were they out gunned? Could they call someone for help? Goblins had always seemed so cowardly, but there had been a feeling in the air, and now it seemed inevitable that they had underestimated them.

While people on the Enterprise were loading cannons, Riker took the wheel, and the captain told Data to go change the direction of the sails. Data nodded and ran to the ropes. Just as he was finishing, he heard Troi shout, “What’s going on?”

“The goblins,” he replied. “Help with cannons!”

Looking at her when he spoke, he was caught off guard when the entirety of the Enterprise shook with a particularly well aimed cannon ball. The ship lurched, and Data tried to grab onto the rope, but his hands missed it by a centimeter. Data went toppling into the water, Troi running to the railing after him, but knowing there was nothing she could do.

“Data!” she shouted at the top of her lungs.

He could hear faintly the water muffled warbling of Troi explaining to someone, “The robot, he’s gone overboard!” before he became waterlogged and shut down.

Data assumed this would be the end of his experiences.

-Chapter Two-

[masked-buffoon]

Chapter 8: The withering flower (Part 2)

Warnings: violence, murder

Author notes: some action, because I wrote too much angst XD hope you’ll like it!

"Ogawa-san!! Ogawa-san!! All of the men have been killed by a trap...!!" One of my subordinates called me.

Akutagawa had refused to take care of this mission himself and had let me deal with the "small fries" as he had called them. A group of dealers had stepped onto the territory of the Mafia and it was my duty to send them off properly, with the best regards possible. I had sent a dozen men to their warehouse while I was lazing around in the dark alleys of Yokohama, too uninterested to go myself, but I apparently should have been more dedicated to my work. Who would have expected that mere thugs could have eliminated so much mafiosi?

"Careless and useless." I commented, pulling onto the breech of my gun to load the first bullet "What do I train you for?"

"I-I'm sorry..." He lowered his head, following behind me.

When I was working under Dazai, I used to argue with the second in command for my strategies to be accepted. I wanted to avoid losing too many men and was concerned about the well-being of the henchmen. However, the former lieutenant was no more and I had become someone who acted on orders only. I did not want to be involved with anyone, and Yamada-san, whom, at last, I had started forgiving, had been demoted as well. The Demon Prodigy's entire squadron had been dismantled... Yet no one had ever replaced him as an executive.

"How did you escape?" I asked curtly, approaching the warehouse.

"They told me to go fetch you..."

"Not only do you fall for their trap, you also come to me? You're very lucky those guys are so dumb they didn't think about following you." I huffed "Stay behind and don't try any bold moves that could cost our lives."

"Understood..."

As soon as I was in front of the main door, machine guns aimed at me and I could accurately see the corpses of my henchmen laying on the ground in broad daylight. I mentally reminded myself to call the cleaners after the job would be done. It could be troublesome if a civilian were to witness such a poor sight.

"Drop your weapon! Hands up!" One of my enemies barked.

Slowly, I threw the firearm to his feet and put my hands behind my head as ordered.

"You lead that raid on us?" Another asked, cocky "Must be important then~ How much do you believe the Port Mafia is willing to give us for your release?"

"How much...?" I raised an eyebrow at them.

"Yeah! The ransom." They shrugged "What if we asked for ten million...?"

"You're wasting your time." I smirked at them "Do you truly want to know what the Port Mafia would pay for me? The answer is zero. Zero yen. The one you caught is but a disposable pawn, after all..."

"Then..." An unknown person stepped in our talk, his voice coming from further "Just kill her."

The machine guns returned to their position, barrels toward me, and the world slowed down. The moment my eyes caught their fingers threatening to press the trigger, my hand traveled toward my holster to pull out my second gun I had hidden from them, and, faster than them, I fired. Three bullets, which landed in their three skulls with perfect precision gained over merciless training with Dazai. They fell, lifeless, blood escaping from the wound on their head, and I turned toward the stranger who had ordered my death. The man seemed in his thirties, rather confident; he was definitely their leader. I aimed at him.

"I may be a disposable pawn, but I am not ready to die just yet. There is someone I must see..." I frowned.

"You won't ever, I fear so."

I could not dwell on his words for too long; a blade landed into my right side, piercing my flesh and creating a most dangerous wound. I glanced at my subordinate.

"You never got into a trap." I furrowed my brows "Because you were a traitor."

"Yes...!" He grinned "And now I killed you...!"

"As I said..." I sighed, hitting him with the pommel of my weapon and sending him down "You are careless and useless. Had I not been expecting your obvious moves, I would have never come there, in the first place. I honestly did not think you would have the guts to stab me, but... That's pretty bold from you."

"... How...?" He gasped, all traces of confidence faded away from his expression as he rubbed his swollen cheek "How did you know...? How aren't you even screaming in pain...?"

"I..." I remembered the leader when he tried to run away and shot him without hesitating "I feed myself with morphine and pain relievers, have you not noticed? How could I suffer from a pitiful wound caused by a butter knife if my whole body feels numb? Besides, you may not know for you are a recent recruit, but I used to be a lieutenant in the most feared executive's squadron... Of course I would have read your moves."

"That's impossible... You can't —"

I interrupted him with a single bullet sent toward his forehead. His hopeless and desperate pleas were getting on my nerves and the entire team had been eliminated because of this pawn. It angered me that the Port Mafia could have lost men over such a small matter, but it was not surprising that traitors would integrate the organisation; Akutagawa never did check the newbies' background when taking them in. To him, humans were cannon fodder he could use to magnify his strength. This day's events proved he was fool enough in his way of doing things, but I was certain he would put the entire blame on me. After all, I was appointed to lead the operation; how could it be his fault?

The blade was a problem, but if I were to remove it, I would bleed to death in the warehouse. I had no choice but to try to keep it stuck in my body until I reached the headquarters. I did not want to die yet... I did not want to leave the world without having made sure the one I cared about had built a new life where he would not need me by his side... What would I even say if we ever were given to meet again, anyway...? If I were to lose my life at this very moment, would he even know...? Had he thought about me once during the last two years...? I did not believe so... But... I still did not want to die yet.

[eirian-houpe]

Disparate Pathways - Chapter 18

Read previous chapters on AO3

Chapter 18 - Storybrooke

There was a distinct chill in the air as Gold stepped out of the sheriff’s office and he pulled up the collar of his overcoat before turning his steps in the direction of the diner. He hadn’t intended to call in, meaning instead to go straight to his shop, but what he’d read on Sheriff Swan’s computer - and had forwarded to his own Email before disconnecting - gave him cause to change his plans.

It was entirely possible that one or other of them was hurt, possibly both, and while he was tempted just to let Milnor fend for himself in that department, if the help he needed was for the governor’s daughter, he couldn’t allow lingering harm to come to the fairer sex. He never had, and he never would. Not so long as he had breath in his body. He sighed. In that respect he and the FBI agent were the same. Gallant, protective… paternal

Gold frowned, wondering where the last thought had come from. He was aware that Milnor had a child. A daughter if he recalled correctly, and that he had lost the girl’s mother not long after the child was born. As such, through all the time that the agent had been undercover he had been separated from his daughter, and that, he knew, was a pure and living hell. Add to that the nature of Duneach’s organization and he wondered at the man’s sanity. Not for nothing had he called Jefferson Milnor, ‘Hatter.’  He pulled out his phone, typed and sent a swift text message, and then called in to Granny’s Diner for a coffee to go.

‘To go’ wasn’t his style either, but as the saying went, needs must when the devil drives, and he had to get to the hospital before Whale got wind of his coming and made a quick escape through the back door. He and the doctor had a tumultuous relationship at best, and like many people in Storybrooke, Victor Whale was beholden to him. So it was that he decided not to enter the hospital by the front door, but via the ambulance bay. It was closer to Whales office.

Gold was well aware he had no business being in that part of the hospital, neither did he care. Storybrooke, for him, was pretty much an open door. Hard to lock doors against people that held the keys. Gold did. After many years, and much capital, there were few places, or people, he didn’t own in some way - either because of their rent, or because something of theirs graced one of the shelves of his pawn shop.

“A moment, Victor,” he said, holding up a gloved hand one finger raised, as the doctor was too slow to escape his notice. The other man stopped and turned slowly.

“Mister Gold, is everything all right?”

As an opening gambit, Gold had to admit that while it wasn’t terribly original, it was at least a logical one. He nodded to the doctor, not to answer his question, but to let the man know that he had ‘scored a point’ in their little mental tete-a-tete. There was no love lost.

“For the moment,” he answered, then, “but it may be that I will need to collect on that debt that you owe me, some time in the near future.”

“Oh?” Whale quirked an eyebrow in query.

Gold shrugged, “A house call. Perhaps a prescription, no questions asked.”

“Now look, Gold,” Whale began, but Gold raised a hand, palm out in a placatory gesture.

“The truth is, Doctor, I do not yet know if, nor the extent to which, I may require your assistance,” Gold looked around him, and then glanced in the direction he knew the parking lot to be. “I was simply giving you the courtesy of a ‘heads up.’”

“Gold…”

“After all, I’d hate anything to happen that might come between you and the,” Gold poured on the sarcasm, “lovely, little, red sports car of yours…”

“Now see here…!” Whale rose to the bait. “I’m paid up to date on that loan, there’s nothing you can do abo—”

“…say, the terms and conditions of the repayment of interest.”

“You’re a piece of work, Gold,” Whale spat.

“So I’m told,” he answered, unperturbed by the doctor’s outburst. “But you will be ready, should I call on you.”

Without another word, or waiting for the doctor’s acknowledgment of the inescapable fact he had just spoken, Gold turned, and left the hospital for his next port of call.

**

It was rather like retracing his steps, as the person he needed to speak to was the diner’s proprietress’ granddaughter, but he could think of no one else he could ask, and trust to their discretion. He and Miss Lucas had history, after all, as he had gotten her out of trouble on a number of occasions. Not out of the goodness of his heart, but because of his absolute insistence on seeing justice served. She hadn’t deserved the charges that had been brought against her, and he was well enough acquainted with the law to be able to defend her more than admirably. Besides, having done so meant that she, too, owed him a few favors, and he was ready to collect.

“What’s the matter, Gold,” Widow Lucas called out as he entered the diner. “Coffee not good enough for you this morning?”

Widow Lucas - Granny, as everyone in Storybrooke seemed to call her - had several bones of contention to pick with him, not the least of which was that she owed him a good deal of money for the rent on the Bed and Breakfast she ran in addition to the diner. He was inclined to be lenient with her in regards to her attitude, so long as she paid that rent on time. As such their relationship was very volatile.

“On the contrary, dearie,” he purred as he limped toward one of the booths toward the back of the diner. “It was so good that I felt I must come by for seconds.”

Widow Lucas snorted a huff, and turned up a white mug from the tray beside her and set about pouring steaming hot, black coffee into it, before setting it on the counter, and nodding at her granddaughter to bring it to him.

Ruby Lucas had a bright red extension tied into her hair, and judging from the amount of make-up that still lingered around her eyes, he ascertained that she had not gotten home from The Rabbit Hole with enough time to spare to change. He ignored the fact that her skirt was shorter than her apron, as this was quite usual for the rebellious young woman.

She managed to set his coffee down in front of him with only the faintest of thumps, and no spillage, for which he was grateful. He hated having to mop up the run before it spilled off of the uneven table and onto the pants of his suit.

“Anything to go with that?” Miss Lucas asked, folding her arms as she waited for his answer.

He offered a rare smile, rather akin to the kind a hyena gave before biting its prey’s throat. “Merely the pleasure of your company,” he said. “A moment of your time, if I may.”

“Can’t,” she snapped. “I’m working.”

“Oh, but I insist,” he said, just as smoothly, but with a slight edge to his voice, especially as he pointed at the bench opposite him and said, “Sit.”

She rolled her eyes in protest, but as instructed, slipped in to the booth’s other seat, and then once more crossed her arms over her chest.

“Well?” she asked, when Gold said nothing. He picked up his coffee cup and took a sip. “I haven’t got all day. I told you. I’m working.”

“So you did,” he said and sat back in his seat. “Forgive me, it’s a delicate matter, and I’m not sure how to approach the subject, to be honest.” He watched as Ruby frowned, giving her enough time to get lost in the intrigue of his words, before he said. “I need your assistance.”

She barked out a half laugh, until she evidently realized that he was serious, and then he saw her eyebrows shoot up toward her hair.

“Seriously?” she asked. “How can I possibly help you?”

“I’m expecting a visitor, a guest,” he began, adding with a dismissive wave of his hand, “a friend of a friend.”

“Okay?” she said slowly, and he could almost hear her wondering what that had to do with her.

“She’s coming here because she’s just walked out on a rather… difficult domestic situation,” he continued, watching the nuances of Ruby’s face as she put the pieces together. “Simply… walked away,” he finished.

It amused him, somewhat, to think of it in those terms, because he knew that there wasn’t so much ‘walking,’ in her get-away, as running and dodging bullets along the way. He knew the difference would irritate Jefferson immensely, and privately reveled in it.

“So, you’re saying she’s going to need stuff,” Ruby said.

“I’d rather like to have some things for her when she arrives, yes,” he said. “If you wouldn’t mind helping.”

“Well of course I don’t mind, but—”

Gold reached into his inside pocket and pulled out a thick envelope on the front of which he’d written all the information he’d managed to research about the governor’s daughter. It was bound not to be entirely accurate, but at least it would give Miss Lucas something to go on.

“I’ve taken the liberty of writing down her details, such as I have,” he interrupted, “And I think you’ll find there is sufficient money to cover whatever purchases you make.”

He slid the envelope across the table toward Ruby, and kept his face impassive as he watched her picked it up, her eyes widening slightly as she rifled through the contents with the flick of her thumb, before looking up at him.

“Whatever you don’t use,” he told her, “you may keep… to cover your expenses. In addition, I believe we can consider my fee for your last appearance in court… paid in full.”  He left barely a beat before adding. “Do we have a deal?”

“Wha— Yes, yes of course,” Ruby finally looked up from studying the envelope and its contents to tell him, “I can take care of it when I get off work today.”

“Excellent,” he nodded, and began to slide along the seat toward the exit of the booth.

“Should I bring it by the shop later?” she asked.

“I won’t be opening the shop today,” he said. “If it isn’t too much trouble, could you drop it by the house this evening?” He stood, steadying himself with his cane and preparing to go as she answered him in the affirmative. Then, as he took the first step he stopped, and looked back over his shoulder to catch Ruby’s eye. “And Miss Lucas? I’m sure I don’t need to remind you that discretion is of the utmost importance.”

**

Leroy could wait.

Gold spent some moments weighing up how his time would be better spent, and since Jefferson and his rescued hostage had been on the run for a over twelve hours, there was a matter more pressing to which Gold felt obliged to attend. It wasn’t that long of a drive to the cabin and regardless of the time that he arrived, Gold was sure that MacCalmain would be there waiting for him; no doubt putting in some handy-work around the place.

Before he left town, he checked in the glove compartment of the Cadillac for an essential item that he would need to give to his tall, loyal associate in case the inevitable happened sooner, rather than later. It was there. The whole deck was there, although he only needed the one card. That done, he picked up his dinner order from Marco’s and made his way out of town and onto the country road that led to the single track driveway to the cabin.

As he’d suspected, MacCalmain was there, with his truck, engaged in cutting back one of the nearby holly bushes that was encroaching on the windows at the side of the single storey structure. The man straightened as Gold drew to a halt, and replaced the secateurs into the tool roll that was resting on the lid of the nearby wood-box.

Gold offered him a smile as he approached the man. “Good of you to come,” he said.

In answer, MacCalmain pulled the cell phone from his pocket and pointed at it, and then at Gold.

“Yes, I sent you a text,” Gold confirmed. “I have… a job for you. Very important. Extremely delicate.”

“I’ll help,” MacCalmain signed. “What do you need.”

“There’s a family just outside of Boston,” Gold handed over a piece of paper, on it was printed an address, and the candid pictures of the family that didn’t even know they were being photographed. “This address,” he said as he handed them over. “I’m not really interested in the family, though I trust you’ll keep them safe if you can.”

MacCalmain shrugged, and Gold’s face hardened. Not in anger, but because he knew the other man’s shrug was not indifference, but practicality. If Gold was sending him out to watch over someone in the family then it likely meant that there was trouble, and the kind of trouble that followed Gold around was the kind of trouble that got people killed. MacCalmain knew that.

“The girl though,” Gold went on, remembering the babe in arms that had squalled all the way from Chicago O’hare to the mid-Atlantic where she finally fell asleep on he father’s chest, and remained asleep all through the landing in Glasgow. More though, he had remembered the haunted look in that father’s eyes, the way he desperately tried to give his daughter his all; his full attention. He had no doubt the man would give her his soul if he had to - and that was why Gold acted as he did. That father had freed his son, though had not necessarily saved him; a youth for whom Gold would, and almost had, given his own.

Bae, though unresponsive, still lived, and where there was life, there was hope.

“I want you to watch her, watch out for her,” Gold continued, pulling himself back from his introspection. “If anyone comes sniffing around; police, other law enforcement agencies,” he voice darkened, “anyone not law enforcement, don’t wait. She’s in danger, and you bring her to me.”

MacCalmain nodded, and picked up the tool roll, evidently meaning to set out right away, but then he frowned as Gold held out a single playing card in the man’s direction. Hesitantly he took it.

“I don’t want the girl terrified, or to think you mean her ill, so when you can - as soon as you can, you give her that card, do you understand? She’ll know what it means.”

MacCalmain nodded again, though shifted his doubt filled gaze down onto the playing card in his hand: the joker - The White Rabbit.

[suraht]

Here’s the thing about reopening the US right now in terms of economics, and why it’s still a bad idea.

Because we all already know about the human toll that’s going to happen.  That’s pretty well documented and charted out by people way better than I at showing exactly what’s going on and what will happen. In short there:  we reopen now, more people get sick, more people die.  So, let’s have a fun little exercise.  Let’s look at this from the angle that’s been touted as the reason we need to reopen:  Wall Street is losing money, businesses are laying people off, and the economy is in a recession, and we’re getting closer to depression every day.

And I don’t think I’m going to have to break out much in the way of terminology, just use some common sense and look at a few major trends.

The summary:  Reopening the US economy now is basically attempting to secure a very, very short term gain in exchange for potential long term economic suicide.

We may indeed see a nice bump in the economy for a little while after we reopen.  It may happen.  And I’m sure that all the people that decided that Covid was a hoax and not that troublesome will pat themselves on the back at a job well done.  However, has anyone noticed that all the places that reopened have seen “the curve” start to balloon back up?  Anyone noticed that all the reopened areas are spiking?  I mean, it’s kind of a thing that will happen when areas still battling a virus decide to stop battling it and let people all go to the beach, or the pool, or stand shoulder to shoulder in a crowd of 19,000 at a political rally.  Cases are going to spike.

But, your economy is open.  Well done, but hmm.  Have you noticed how many employees in the reopened, public-facing businesses are getting sick?  There are a lot of positive test results coming back from fast food, bar, pool, and retail workers now, and considering the two week incubation period since the reopening has just passed?  Well, let’s put it this way.  Better get out the help wanted signs and put them out.  You might just manage to get enough replacement employees to cover for all of your employees that are about to get sick.  But, I’m sure it’ll be fine.  It’s not like all those sick employees that have decades of “it’s honorable to go to work sick” and “We’ll fire you if you call out sick” thought stamped into their psyche will accurately report their illnesses so you don’t make your customer base sick, right?  Right, no worries there. I’m sure any customers that get sick won’t form class action lawsuits.  It’s not like people are heavily out of work and desperate for money because they can’t afford all the medical treatment they need to survive Covid, right?

Let’s look a few months down the line.  Projections show that the vast majority of the planet is on track to have Covid well under control, and in that few months, it looks to be practically gone in places that have taken the proper precautions.  But the US, and from what I can tell, maybe the UK, are on the exact opposite path.  The trend lines for the US and UK are creeping back up, and the future forecast is looking very, very bleak now.  A few months down the line, if you were in one of those countries that did things the responsible way, would you want anything to do with areas that were so undisciplined when it mattered that they pose a significant risk to reinfect your country if you allow their people in your borders or take crates of their goods in at your ports?  If the US still hasn’t got a handle on this whole Covid situation where over 1,000 per day are still dying and even more are getting sick, the world is effectively going to drape a big quarantine curtain around the country until we get our act together.

So, what does this do to our economy around, oh, say, September?  Or is the better question “Will we still have an economy”?  The US is going to be on every other country’s banned travel and “do not import” lists.  The US dollar is going to absolutely crash because no one will trade with us and no one wants our Covid-laced goods.  That nice little bump we may get from the reopening is going to be a long distant memory.

I just hope we can recover from this.  Maybe we can adopt the Euro or the Canadian dollar.

[canyouhearthelight]

The Miys, Ch. 54

This chapter is 100% dedicated to my beloved sister, @parisconstantine. While we never really got the chance to actually do this, I always wished we could.

Also, thank @baelpenrose for Arthur Farro and the unceasingly fun to write Alistair Worthington.

Content warnings for basic white girl shenanigans, you have been warned.

“It still tastes like chai,” I groaned as I sipped the drink my sister set in front of me. We were in her office, going over crew files to identify who we had available to start learning the material for the Galactic Core courses.  Eino and Grey were solidly behind the initiative, along with Xiomara – purely for political and defensive reasons, but still – so with neither Pranav nor Huyhn having any objections, we had a tentative green light.

This concoction in my cup, however, did not have any such approval.

“It would probably help if we knew exactly what was supposed to be in it,” Tyche before wrinkling her nose at her own beverage. “At least we both like chai?”

I shrugged and nodded. “Maybe it’s the ratios… Hey, this guy looks promising. He’s already assigned to Eino, apparently was a teacher Before.  Poor thing, he taught high school…”  Tyche erupted in giggles. I scowled at her. “You don’t understand. High school students can be horrible monsters.”

“Agreed,” Alistair added as he breezed into the room. He stopped abruptly, wrinkling his nose. “Why does it smell like a tea shop in here, and why are we discussing the propensity of adolescents to be Eldritch abominations?”

“Latest attempt,” I raised my cup at him. “And we’re going through personnel files for candidates to teach the new curriculum.”

He nodded. “I received the alert that the Council approved. However, one would think Councillor Wiitala would be the one to handle the details.” He gestured at the console. “May I?”

I shrugged and Tyche nodded, so he dialed a cup of my sister’s most recent creation. “Eino will coordinate with the new educators to decide the actual curriculum,” Tyche clarified. “Personnel falls under Soph by way of me, and she’s responsible for logistics.” She made an eloquent gesture at me.

“And Sophia has no other staff to delegate this to?” He arched a brow as he took his first taste of the experiment in his hand. Grimacing, he managed to swallow before putting the rest in a recycling port. “Oh, that’s chai. And not even good chai. How are the two of you drinking that?”

“Grow up drinking coffee that could degrease and engine,” I muttered into my cup. It wasn’t that bad, I decided.  My assistant just pinched the bridge of his nose and took a deep breath through his clenched teeth. “As far as delegating, would you be interested in taking it on?”

“Not possible, I’m afraid. Between my day to day responsibilities as your assistant and those horrid swimming lessons, I have very little free time as it is. Madame Reid, you can stop laughing this instant, it is not funny in the least.”

Tyche exploded into laughter rather than complying with his admonishment. Wiping tears from her eyes, she gasped, “I can’t believe you took that bet!” She dropped her head onto her arms and shook, gasping now and then.

I managed to restrain myself to a smile, but it was a close call. “Anyway, if you are too busy, and Tyche is already handling the personnel files, then no, I can’t delegate this.”

“Surely you – “ Alistair broke off as Tyche’s hysterics escalated.  At first, he looked confused, but dawning comprehension finally broke across his face. “You cannot be serious.”

“Mmm hmm.” I smiled wider, quirking an eyebrow at him.

“You really have no other staff?”

“Nope,” I popped before leaning back in my seat. “I come up with ideas, I vet ideas, but of the entire Council, I have the smallest staff. Two, to be precise.” I swept my arm, gesturing at him and the shaking lump of my sister, still slumped on the table.

“That is…” he trailed off, shaking his head. “How did I never realize this?”

Tyche’s head popped up. “I wish I knew,” she answered shakily, wiping tears from her face. “You have access to the entire staffing plan for the Council.  How did you not see that?” Alistair muttered and turned his face away. “Come again? I didn’t catch that?”

“I thought the information was incorrect, Madame Reid.”

“Mademoiselle,” she corrected. “But Tyche is preferred.  Did you really think that a staffing document that I, personally, manage would be incorrect?”

“Tyche,” I chided. “It is very common for those who manage personnel to leave their own updates for last.  He’s not being rude.”  I turned back to my assistant. “To clarify, that data is completely accurate.  The entirety of my staff is sitting in this room. That doesn’t mean I don’t delegate, mind you.  I just don’t delegate entire projects, that’s all.  Tyche handles anything regarding staffing, whether it’s long term or short term.  That is entirely on her, by the way, even though it falls under my department.  If I need data, Pranav has given me permanent access to some of his people, and I can also reach out to Grey whenever I need.  For something like this, once I figure out the logistics and make sure we have enough educators to do it, I hand it over to Eino, and it’s his problem.”

Alistair looked thoughtful for a moment before nodding. “Additionally, I would venture that you have a sort of unofficial staff.”

I shook my head vigorously, immediately understanding what he was getting at. “No, I have a family, Mr. Worthington.  Talking about your day, bouncing ideas off each other, that’s what a family should be.  They are certainly not my staff.”

“I am,” Tyche offered, smirking.

Brat. “That’s different,” I sighed. “You actually report to me, in a professional capacity.”  I picked up my cup to take another sip, frowning to find it empty.  “There is a hole in my coffee cup,” I muttered.

Alistair rolled his eyes and snatched the mug from my hands. “Give me that before you make yourself sick,” he demanded waspishly.

I took a deep breath through my nose, trying to bring myself back to the actual task I was in here for. “Okay, no, I don’t have any other staff, so no, I can’t delegate this. And that fine, this was my idea, and I’m actually very excited to have a hand in bringing it to fruition. So, moving on… Arthur Farro goes on the short list. Who’s next?”

“Don’t kill me,” Tyche immediately responded.

“Not what I expected… why would I kill you?”

“We have one person on this ship with pretty much nothing to do, who has a very unique perspective on this and actually has read most of the material…”

“Tyche…”

“…And he’s not my favorite person either, but – “

“Tyche. Spit it out.”

“Simon,” she blurted, leaving me in stunned silence. “I know, he’s got the social skills of an enthusiastic squirrel, but he is the only human on the ship who already knows the majority of the material.”

I sputtered, stopped, and tried again. “But can he teach it?” I asked, incredulous. “Knowing things doesn’t always mean you can pass the information on effectively.”

“That is your objection, Councillor?” Alistair threw over his shoulder as he continued to do whatever he was doing at the food console.

“Well… yeah?” I confirmed, confused why I would have any other objections. “I am absolutely certain he knows most of the material and would probably learn the rest on his own. He didn’t have much else to do for the year he was on the Ark by himself. And he’s been working on his social skills, it’s just…” I sighed and ran a hand down my face. “Look, I’ve had those teachers, you know?  The ones who know the material like they breathe air, but can’t teach it to save their lives.  It’s an awful experience and always made me hate the subject instead of the teacher. Simon doesn’t need any more hate directed at him, thank you.”

“For what it’s worth, I’ve already talked to him, and he’s willing,” Tyche offered.  “He’s been studying public speaking and body language, and said he would be willing to take some education courses if it would help.  He really does want to give back.”

“Wait, body language courses?” A feeling of abject horror buried itself deep in the pit of my stomach. “Tyche… Which courses?”

“About that – “

“I swear on my bones if you sent him – “

“He found it himself!”

Hammering my head on the table suddenly seemed like a brilliant idea. “Oh my god. This is not happening.”

Alistair interrupted, sliding two mugs on the table before absconding with the cooling remnants of my sister’s not-chai. “You are doing it again.  You are speaking ‘Reid-ish’ and I’m not quite fluent yet, so would the two of you mind speaking in full sentences so the rest of us mere mortals know what you are saying?”

“Oh, you’ll learn,” I threatened drily before sweeping a hand at my sister. “Go ahead. You love telling this story.”

She leveled a glare that would wither lesser people before turning to explain. “Sophia was an interpersonal communications expert in a former life. She wrote a paper, during grad school, on the importance of body language to people in positions of power. Specifically, educators and managers at various levels. It was controversial for a while, mostly because it emphasized the exact opposite of what most studies in that field encouraged.  No ‘power poses’, no ‘assertive language’, nada.”

“And this is the paper Mr. Rodriguez found?”

“Oh, not the paper,” I groaned miserably. “Eventually, people started asking me to come give talks, and then seminars to their employees. It was a disaster.”

“It was an insane success,” Tyche argued.

“But I had to give seminars!” I cried. “You know I hate public speaking!”

You could have heard a pin drop.  Alistair gaped at me, mouth opening and closing a few times in aborted attempts to say something. Finally, “You wrote an entire paper, and gave actual courses, on how to do something you hate?”

“That’s why I wrote the damned paper,” I admitted.  “I hate public speaking because of all the toxic power-posing bullshit attached to it.  It’s like you’re intimidating people to believe you. ‘Project confidence, don’t use filler language, use powerful language, executize’.” I mimicked in a squeaky voice. “It was a bunch of baloney, so I wrote the paper to prove that.  I never expected people to take it that seriously.  Not to mention, I nearly didn’t get my Masters because of that paper.”

“The professor was not impressed,” Tyche stage-whispered.

“The professor was an asshole who entered every room like a bull in a china shop,” I growled. “He blustered and intimidated people, and at least half his students were afraid of him.”

“And you basically wrote an entire paper about why you found him distasteful,” Alistair nodded.  “I am genuinely floored that he disagreed with your findings.”

“Fuck him, I was right,” I ground out. “I managed to get nearly every undergrad in the school to participate in the study, which turned out to be the only way I was able to keep from failing the course – the sample set was so large, he couldn’t exactly argue it.  But he tried, believe me.”  Distracted, I took a sip of the drink he had set in front of me. “Oh my.  Oh god. This… Tyche. Drink. Now.”

She took a sip and threw a predatory look at Alistair. “You did not.”

“I did,” Alistair replied smugly.

I was fighting back tears while simultaneously trying to learn how to live in a cup of coffee.  Tyche just looked constipated. “I’ve been trying for two months.  You just whipped it right up.”

“I will admit, I did not think your… quest… was as serious as it turned out to be, else I would have done it sooner.  If for no other reason than to spare myself your various concoctions.”

“This used to be our thing, every fall,” I explained, sniffing my now-mostly-empty cup. “Before she moved to Paris, I mean.  We would go out and get these, and hang out for a day.” I blinked furiously, refusing to cry over a cup of coffee.

Alistair chuckled. “Could the two of you possibly have a more stereotypical tradition?”

“No,” Tyche growled stubbornly before tilting her chin up. “Nothing says ‘comfortable with myself’ more than two women this white,” she pointed back and forth furiously between us, “Enjoying pumpkin spice coffee in the fall.”

“Being a walking stereotype is its own kind of confidence,” I admitted. “You know everyone is probably judging you for it, but you really just don’t care.”

<< Prev  Masterlist  Next >>

[cosmonaughty]

I recently re-watched Season 1 of Fargo FX and, as is the case with every great show or movie, there were things I noticed that I had missed in earlier viewings. A few of these had to do with the portrayal of hospitals in film, which is another small obsession of mine, so I thought that I would take the time to combine these two interests and talk about the way that Fargo FX depicts hospitals. I will be mentioning the inaccuracies in this portrayal and the way that the liberties that are taken advance the plot and enhance the mood of certain scenes. By pointing out these inaccuracies, I am not trying to criticize the show or its writers, I’m just using my specific experiences to talk at length about something I love.

(Also, this post will contain big ol’ spoilers for Season 1 of Fargo FX, so go watch it if you haven’t yet and then come back.)

There are a few scenes that I wanted to discuss here, and I will bring them up chronologically. In episode 5, Lester is rushed to the hospital in an ambulance with what appears to be sepsis resulting from a shotgun pellet lodged in his hand. In the following episode, he sneaks out of the hospital to frame his brother for his wife’s murder. He does this by switching beds with his roommate, whose face is bandaged. As far as accuracy goes, it pretty much goes without saying that this concept is pretty farfetched, but I’ll run down the issues here anyway.

It’s never really clear to me what injuries require intensive care in this show (more on that later), but I will say that Lester recovers from sepsis in what must be record time. When I had more or less the same thing, my body essentially held down its own power button and restarted everything. I was in the ICU for multiple days, though I’m not sure how many because I wasn’t lucid the entire time, and I was pumped full of fluids and antibiotics, as well as hooked up to multiple tubes and wires.

Lester, however, is in excellent condition pretty much as soon as the source of his infection is removed, despite having been delirious, vomiting, sweating, shivering, and all that other fun stuff only the night before. His room seems to be on the general ward and the only thing hooked up to him is an IV, which appears to be dispensing saline and nothing else.

He is also under the care of what may be the least competent nurse I’ve ever seen in any show. Nurse Farber comes in to transport Lester’s roommate to radiology, but if she had checked his bracelet, she would have realized she was transporting the wrong patient. She also moves the entire hospital bed, rather than moving the patient to a gurney or a wheelchair, as has been my experience in the past (those beds are portable, but they’re very heavy and unwieldy).

However, these aren’t “mistakes”. They are deliberate choices that serve to move the plot along. We can’t put the story on hold so that Lester has a couple of weeks to recover and gain his strength back, so that process needs to be hurried along for the sake of the plot. If the nurse had checked his bracelet, his plan would have been foiled and, again, the plot would not be able to progress. If she had moved him to a wheelchair or gurney, he wouldn’t have been able to smuggle a change of clothes with him. So, these choices don’t arise from the writers’ ignorance of hospital procedure, they just need to bend some aspects of reality to advance the plot.

I would also like to point out some things this scene gets right about the hospital (based on my experience).

This room layout is pretty accurate. I like the little details like the plastic cup + bendy straw that everyone always has on their bedside table (even if you can lift a cup to your mouth, a bendy straw is required. It’s like an unwritten rule). I like the detail that the windows don’t open and I really appreciate that they didn’t have Lester pull out his IV like every renegade tv character seems to do. Instead, he simply disconnects the port from the tube so that he can move around, which I’m sure is more difficult than he makes it look but it’s leaps and bounds better than the old rip-em-out technique that I seem to see all the time.

I also like that the nurse uses the pain scale, which is pretty standard but I get a kick out of it. And, believe it or not, I have actually been deposited in the hall and left alone by nurses while waiting for imaging, which is how Lester manages to escape in the first place. Personally, I’ve never made it out the front door, but I haven’t tried that hard.

 Now that we’ve talked about how the writers take liberties to advance the plot, let’s look at how similar inaccuracies can be used enhance the mood of a scene. If you want to see me get emotional (you sadist), get me talking about episode 7. In this episode, Molly, having been hospitalized after an emergency splenectomy, makes a trip from her room on the general ward to question Mr. Wrench, who is in custody in the ICU after having been shot twice by her (it’s not clear where he was shot, but he indicates his upper right chest, so somewhere in that area). He uses a white board to ask about his partner (Mr. Numbers) and Molly confirms that he is dead. She makes an attempt to connect with him and asks for his help in finding Lorne Malvo, but he shuts her out by refusing to look at her and she leaves. Later, in episode 8, Malvo shows up to taunt Wrench about having killed his partner, as well as to commend him for coming closer to killing him than anyone else had in the past. He gives Wrench the handcuff key and leaves.

Like I said earlier, it’s not clear what requires intensive care in this show, since Mr. Wrench doesn’t appear to be any worse off physically than Molly is (or than Lester was earlier). He does have more stuff attached to him, which is…good(?), but let’s talk about this ICU room:

This looks nothing like any ICU room I’ve ever stayed in. For one thing, in my experience the bed has always been facing the door, not inward to the rest of the room. I assume this is to make it easier to provide emergency care, which is the function of just about everything in the ICU. For this same reason, there’s very little privacy; the doors are usually clear glass and people come in and out all the time (nobody checks on patients in this show).

As I mentioned above, he has more “gear” (no, that’s not the correct term, but just be glad I didn’t call it “swag”) than either Molly or Lester, but far less than I would expect to see. There are maybe two bags on that IV pole, so probably saline and morphine (no blood/plasma/antibiotics/other medications). He’s got a heart monitor and a pulse oximeter, but no oxygen or bp monitor. Whether I like it or not, I’m always given oxygen in the ICU (which I tend to remove as soon as possible, apologies to my nurses) and if he was shot in the chest, he might actually need it. I’m also not convinced that heart monitor is working, since it doesn’t fluctuate at all when Malvo shows up in episode 8. ALSO: that bed rail should be up; I don’t care if he is handcuffed in place, that looks like a fall risk to me. Who is running this place?

(I’m also kinda jealous, because I’ve never been in an ICU room with this much natural light.)

 As I mentioned before, there is specific intent behind these omissions and changes.  For one thing, if there were several different machines and wires and lines and the like, the shot would be really busy and it would be distracting, both visually and auditorily, as hospital equipment tends to beep and beep and beep and beep.

Additionally, the shots are very clean, which effectively communicates a sterile environment to the audience; the natural light from the window compliments the Season 1 aesthetic really well and it also contributes somewhat to the coldness of the scenes in this room.

Speaking of which, this is as good a time as ever to bring up something I only consciously noticed very recently. Let’s go back to episode 7 and take a look at the difference between his room and Molly’s.

It’s very subtle, but the light above her bed is a warmer tone; her bedding is also comprised of warmer, lighter tones. Additionally, there’s some framed artwork on the wall, and most importantly she is surrounded by people (and flowers) in every shot.

Even in reverse shots of her, the frame contains color and warm tones. Contrast this with a similar OTS shot of Wrench in his hospital room. The temperature of the scene is a lot colder and the frame surrounding him is empty, which is excellent shorthand to communicate loneliness and alienation.

His room also has some kind of mesh over the window, the practical purpose of which (if there is one) eludes me. As I mentioned earlier, hospital windows don’t open, something the writers are obviously aware of, and I’ve personally never been in a hospital room that had a grate or bars over the windows. Regardless of its practical purpose, this is another detail that contributes to the theme of isolation that is present in the design of these scenes. Being in the hospital can be a lonely, alienating experience, which is something I feel is communicated really well here.

These are subtle decisions that make a huge impact on the mood of the scene. I’m gonna be real with you right now, Mr. Wrench is my favorite character and this scene breaks my heart every time I see it. A good deal of that is owed to the quality of the show’s writing and the amazing talent of Russell Harvard and Allison Tolman, but it is always fun to see how my emotions are being relentlessly manipulated by the cinematographer as well. Good job, you guys.

 I want to conclude with a proposed alternative to the staging of that last scene.

As you can see here, this scene is set during the day, with daylight clearly visible from the window. However, imagine how the emotional intensity might be different if the scene was set at night.

In my experience, nighttime in the hospital can be the most difficult, emotionally speaking, and it’s something I’ve even come to dread as a patient. For the most part, visitors have to go home, the room is dark but the lights are on in the hall and the nurses’ station. You can’t sleep because you’re uncomfortable and people keep coming in to take vitals and blood, and overall it’s very lonely.

So, imagine this scene exactly as it is played out in Season 1, but now instead of a closed off room with daylight coming through the window, the lights in the room are dimmed, it’s night outside (maybe street lights are visible through the window, but not too much). There is a soft glow coming from the heart monitor. Molly is sitting beside the bed with her back to the open door rather than the window. In the background the lights are on in the hall, you can see hospital staff going about their routine in the background. His life is falling apart in this scene, but it’s business as usual for everyone else. Even Molly, as sympathetic as she is, is just doing her job here.

I’m not saying that this staging would have been better, but it would have had a different emotional intensity. I like to see how the environment of the hospital could be used to enhance the mood of a scene, rather than simply act as a back drop because hospitals are deeply personal places, but can be so alienating at the same time. That said, I think that the way they used the environment to impart that sense of loneliness was excellent, and I support the decision to omit certain specifics that might compromise the mood or the flow of the plot.

Oh, and, if you still haven’t done it: go watch Fargo FX.

[lifeofyellowpearl]

Yellow Pearl Goes Over Old Files: The CGIC

A while ago, My Diamond had me retrieve some old files from the central archive. These files dated back to around the time Pink Diamond was shattered. Many memories of that whole debacle were triggered as I went through them. One file, in particular, caught my eye. It was a document that pertained to a failed intelligence operation carried out against the Crystal Gems. I remember it so clearly.

The Crystal Gem rebels had just started gaining some real traction. This actually wasn’t the first-time gems have tried to rebel against the diamond authority. Every so often, a band of low-ranking gems – or even off colors – would try and spark their own little uprisings. On rarer occasions, slighted elites have turned against the empire, usually with fatal results. This, however, was different. For one thing, up until now, rebellions have been quelled relatively quickly. Most gems don’t even know that such events have taken place. But this movement that Rose Quartz had started just kept growing. For every crystal gem that we shattered five more joined their ranks. Or at least that’s how it seemed.  Gems had been flocking to join the rebellion at an unprecedented rate.

The Crystal Gems were becoming a real problem and quite frankly, it was getting embarrassing. The Diamonds had decided that more action needed to be taken but they were also forced to admit that they didn’t know much about The Crystal Gems or even what their overall strategy was nor could they figure out how Rose was recruiting so many gems so quickly. For this reason, The Crystal Gem Intelligence Commission was established. It was meant to be a temporary agency dedicated to gathering intel on this new rebel faction. My Diamond was hesitant to sign off on such an order as she felt that it granted undue legitimacy to what she wanted to view as little more than a loose band of rebels.

The Diamonds were preparing to meet with the head of the newly established CGIC for the first time. From what I had heard, she was an ambitious young morganite who had pitched the idea for this intelligence commission several times. It was very clear that she was excited to make a name for herself – then again, a lot of gems are. My Diamond and Blue Diamond were waiting in the facet 2 spire – one of the first spires built on earth. We were in one of the main meeting halls. As always, I was standing at attention next to 1XK, Blue Diamond’s Pearl. My Diamond and Blue were seated at their respective thrones while the small pink throne between them remained empty. There with us was Jadeite Facet 1F5U Cabochon 37, the viceroy of this sector, and Emerald Facet 8F5O Cabochon 4. She was a military general who was essentially charged with containing The Crystal Gems. They both stood across the room from us, slightly elevated on their respective podiums.

“I still don’t think this is necessary.” Said, My Diamond. “I mean, we’re talking about a loose group of miscreants.”

“I’ll remind you that this ‘loose group’ has destroyed a number of kindergartens and seized one of our major fulfillment ports” Remarked, Blue, “Some estimate that progress on Pink’s colony has been delayed two full decimal years because of them.”

Skeptical My Diamond turned to Jadeite 37, “Is this really true, Jadeite?”

“It’s hard to tell, My Diamond.” Said, 37 “A few seem to think so, but these are very rough estimates. Though to be honest, Emerald and I could get a more accurate assessment of the damage if –”

“If the CGIC is truly able to deliver! Which is why we’re anxious to learn about their findings!” Emerald 4 interrupted, “Isn’t that right, Viceroy?”

“Er…y-yes,” said 37, “that’s right.” 37 glanced over at 4 who gave her a subtle nod. Since 37 was the viceroy of this sector, the Earth colony fell under her jurisdiction. This meant that 37 was able – well, forced really – to work closely with Pink Diamond. Rumors have circulated that 37 found Pink difficult to work with and had expressed her exasperation to her colleagues. When word of this got back to Blue Diamond, 37 was severely reprimanded. Now she was careful not to criticize Pink. Especially not in front of Blue.

“What are your thoughts, Emerald?” Blue asked.

“I honestly don’t know what to think.” 4 replied, “On the one hand, they have been successful in delaying progress to an extent but on the other hand, they really just seem to be striking random sites willy-nilly. If there’s a long-term plan here, I sure don’t see one.”

As they were talking, I received a message from one of the outside guards. I exchanged a look with K who, judging by the look on her face, received the same message. K shrugged, “I guess we should let them know.” She whispered. I nodded and cleared my throat. “Excuse me, My Diamond? Sorry to interrupt but it would seem that Pink Diamond has arrived at the spire.”

“What? Why?” My Diamond turned to Blue who shrugged.

“I don’t think she specified why she’s here,” I said, “According to this message, she, and I quote, ‘…Just sorta showed up. She looked really angry and I was scared to ask why she was here but I’m pretty sure she’s here to speak with the elder diamonds because she was audibly ranting about them. Oh, good heavens! She just punched a hole in one of the pillars, yep she’s definitely mad.’ Um…end quote.”

4 and 37 tittered, Blue Diamond placed a hand over her face and My Diamond groaned. “Ugh, what now?” It wasn’t long before we started hearing footsteps marching towards the front entrance. We were quickly able to deduce who those footsteps belonged to. We could hear her, “I seriously cannot believe those two! Just…ugh!”

“My Diamond, please try and calm down.” I recognized that voice too. It was…her voice. Before long, the entrance doors opened and there stood a livid Pink Diamond along with her pearl, Pearl Facet 1A1A Cut 1XA.

 “Pink?” My Diamond said, “What are you doing here? Who’s overseeing the colony?”

“I left it in the care of one of my lieutenants!” Pink exclaimed, “What’s all this about a ‘Crystal Gem Intelligence Committee?’”

“You mean Intelligence Commission” Blue corrected.

“WHATEVER!! Why wasn’t I informed of this?”

Blue turned to My Diamond, “You mean you didn’t tell her? You were supposed to tell her.”

“It…must have slipped my mind.” Said My Diamond, “Besides, it technically doesn’t concern her. We already discussed this, remember? She focuses on the production of her colony and we focus on dealing with the Crystal Gems.”

“Yellow, the operative phrase here is ‘her colony.’ We’re fighting this war on her colony. at the very least we should keep her informed of…”

“Wait! Wait! Stop!” Pink shouted, “Okay first of all: Please don’t talk about me like I’m not in the room, you two know who much I hate that! Secondly: What war!? This is just a police action, right? Since when is this a war? You didn’t declare war without telling me, did you?”

“Um, if I may interject, My Diamonds. I was not aware that war had been declared.” Said 4.

“Neither was I.” Said 37, “If I missed something…”

“You didn’t miss anything!” My Diamond insisted, “This is still a police action. Isn’t that right, Blue?”

“Er, yes.” This has become something of a hot button issue for the diamonds. The Diamond Authority had been working hard to assure the public that they had this rebellion under control. By declaring war, the diamonds would be able to allocate more resources and soldiers to help in fighting the crystal gems. However, they would also be admitting that this rebellion had spiraled out of control and that they really were in danger of losing an entire colony to a rebel faction largely comprised of inappropriate fusions, low ranking gems, and off colors.

“But it is something that you guys have been considering! Why else would Blue have said that? Guys, you need to tell me these things!”

“Pink, please.” My Diamond said, “There is. No. War.” My Diamond wasn’t just saying that to Pink. She wanted to be sure that everyone in the room understood that a war declaration was not going to happen.

“So, you guys haven’t talked about it at all, then?” There was something strange about Pink’s inquiry. She seemed to really panic at the idea of a potential war declaration. I understood why Pink would be concerned – a civil war is the last thing that anyone wanted – but…I don’t know. I felt that there was another reason why Pink was so worried about this. I couldn’t help but wonder if something else was going on. Of course, I silently reprimanded myself for harboring such thoughts. After all, it is not my place to question the reasoning of a diamond. Even if she is a bit unorthodox.

My Diamond and Blue both looked at each other. They wanted nothing more than to tell Pink that a declaration of war was completely off the table, but, of course, they couldn’t. “Just…tell us why you’re here.” Said My Diamond, changing the subject.

“Well, it’s obvious why I’m here. You’re meeting with the head of the Crystal Gem Intelligence Ministry, right?”

“Intelligence Commission…” My Diamond groaned.

“That’s what I said! Anyway, as the chief executive officer of Earth colony production and as, you know, a diamond, I think I should be here for this meeting.”

“Pink, you can’t just waltz into a meeting uninvited and expect to be a part of it.” Said Yellow,

“Hmph! Oh really?” Pink said, “Watch me!” In a clear display of almost cavalier defiance, Pink Diamond marched towards the elder diamonds and sat at her throne between them with her arms folded and her head held high. 1XA, stood back, unsure of what to do for a moment before quickly making her way over to where K and I were. She stood next to me at attention and flashed me a nervous smile. Even then, I knew there was something I didn’t like about this pearl.

“Blue,” My Diamond said, “say something. Talk some sense into her.”

Blue Diamond thought for a moment, “You know what, Yellow? Maybe Pink Diamond has a point.”

“What…?”

“I’m just saying, this does concern her colony and we did neglect to inform her of any of this.” By ‘we’ she meant ‘you.’ “At the very least we should let her sit in.”

By now, My Diamond knew that there was no point in arguing. “Fine.”

Almost on cue, I received a message from the outside guards informing us of the head’s arrival. “My Diamond,” I said, “she’s here.”

“Great!” Pink exclaimed, “send her in.”

The doors opened and in walked the morganite. As she moved, I couldn’t help but notice her gait. It was so slow and rigid it was almost unnatural. Her breathing was very labored and beads of sweat rolled down from her forehead. This gem was understandably nervous. From what I understood, she was very young – less than 200 years old – and this was her very first time addressing the diamonds.

“Any day now.” My Diamond said, tapping her foot. At that, the morganite hastened her pace before stopping abruptly, nearly stumbling over herself.

After taking a moment to regain her footing, she saluted the diamonds, “My-my apologies my, illuminous, er, luminous diamonds. Um, uh…Mornanite, I mean, Mor-Morgan--”

“Oh, for heaven’s sake!” My Diamond said, “You’re telling me this is the head of the CGIC?”

“Not exactly an ideal first impression.” Said Blue.

“Guy’s c’mon will you lay off?” Pink said.

“Pink what have we said about minding your tone?” Chided Blue.

“I’m just saying, she’s clearly worked hard and from what I’ve heard, she’s very proud of what she’s doing for you…er, I mean, doing for us. At the very least, we should give her a chance to say what she needs to say.” Pink then turned to the morganite and smiled. Her words were warm and gentle, “It’s okay Morganite. Don’t be afraid, I’m really looking forward to hearing what you have for us. Just take a breath.”

One thing that I had heard of Pink is that she had this ‘way with gems.’ I didn’t know what that meant until now. There really was just something inherently reassuring about this diamond. Her smile, her demeanor, her calming voice. I watched as any and all feelings of tension and anxiety completely dissipated from this morganite. As Pink instructed, she took a breath, stood upright, and spoke with a newfound air confidence and gumption, “My Diamonds, Morganite Facet 4F5J Cut 78. Head of The Crystal Gem Intelligence Commission.” Unreal. It was as if she had transformed into a completely different gem. Everyone was amazed, even the elder diamonds were also amazed – though My Diamond tried to hide it.

“That’s why I love her.” A whispered. I turned to the white pearl and raised an eyebrow. A noticed and attempted to play it off, “What? I-I didn’t say anything.”

“So?” said Pink, “what have you got?”

“Thank you, my Diamond.” Said Morganite 78, “Well firstly, numbers. You’ll be happy to know that 10 of my agents have successfully managed to infiltrate The Crystal Gems. With their help, we were able to get a more accurate idea of exactly how many rebels there are. As of now, they seem to be at around 500,000.”

“500,000?” My Diamond’s eyebrows shot up, “Our estimates placed their numbers at 200,000 and we thought that was being generous!”

“I was just as surprised as you were, My Diamond, but I wouldn’t fret. Most of these gems aren’t even trained soldiers and our forces still outnumber theirs four to one. However, while there is no doubt that these rebels stand no chance against our armies, the rate at which they’re growing is troubling.”

“Yes, we already know that,” Said Blue, “But what’s their strategy? What’s their long-term plan?”

“Right…well, here’s the thing. They don’t really have one.”

“What do you mean they don’t have one?”

“I mean Rose Quartz is flying blind. They’re running around, indiscriminately destroying structures in some feeble attempt to stymie progress, but their whole operation is very disorganized. It’s become clear that Rose has not put much thought into this.”

My Diamond scoffed “Why am I not surprised?”

“I must second this.” Said Emerald 4, “She’s an okay strategist and a mediocre tactician.”

“Oh c’mon!” Exclaimed Pink, “Give her some credit.” Everyone turned to Pink, somewhat confused by her remark. I noticed A was wincing. “I-I’m just saying, we’d do well to take Rose seriously, right?”

“Oh Pink, please.” Said My Diamond, “Rose is little more than a recalcitrant buffoon masquerading as a military commander. She clearly doesn’t know what she’s doing.”

“Yeah? Well If she’s such a buffoon then why are The Crystal Gems still a threat?” I couldn’t make sense of Pink’s response to all of this. It was as though she took personal offense to everyone’s remarks.

“That’s…actually a good question.” Said Jadeite 37, “Based on what I’ve been told, this Rose Quartz doesn’t really know how to strategize.”

“She really doesn’t, though.” Said 4, “Sometimes she’ll lead her followers into situations that are clearly unwinnable and other times she’ll order her followers to retreat when they don’t need to. Several of their gems are shattered on the regular. In fact, my troops have jokingly remarked that joining The Crystal Gems is ‘essentially a death sentence.’ And yet gems continue to flock to her, it makes no sense!”

“I don’t understand it, either.” 37 replied, “Morganite, why in the world are gems joining her?”

“A good question, High Clarity. And I must admit, my agents were just as confused as you are. Some members of the crystal gems have described her tactics as ‘unorthodox’ but…they don’t bother to question her. They just blindly trust that she knows what she’s doing even though she clearly doesn’t. According to my agents, there is just something about her that draws gems to her but ultimately, Emerald is right. She has no real strategy and no long-term plan. This is why The Crystal Gems have been so unpredictable because there’s nothing really to predict!”

“So what?” My Diamond said, “Gems are just joining in spite of her apparent incompetence?”

“Yes, My Diamond, that’s how it would seem. She masks her incompetence with superficial charm and false promises.” Pink was silently grinding her teeth. It appeared as though she were seething. I could tell that she really didn’t care for what anyone was saying here but I could not for the life of me understand why. I still look back and wonder what that was all about.

“Well it sounds like Rose really does have these gems fooled.” My Diamond remarked.

“Indeed, she does but not for long. One of my agents uncovered this.” 78 pulled up a holo-screen and forwarded a document to everyone, prompting their own holo-screens to open. When Pink read through it, her eyes widened, “W-where did your agent find this?”

“Apparently Rose unwittingly left her alone with an open holo-screen.” 78 replied, “It appears to be an excerpt from her personal journal.”

Jadeite 37 chuckled as she read through it, “Oh-ho-ho my word! Is this real?”

“Oh absolutely! I couldn’t quite believe it myself, it really was an incredible find!”

“That’s quite the understatement!” said Emerald 4. K and I exchanged a look. Whatever it was that 78 had sent them had these gems positively giddy. Even the diamonds were struggling to keep themselves from busting out laughing, except for Pink who, for whatever reason, seemed to be absolutely petrified. When I turned to A, I saw on her face a look of deep concern. What in the world was going on with these two?

“Pathetic,” Blue said with a chuckle, “Truly pathetic.”

“Oh, please tell me you have plans to disseminate this!” Said My Diamond.

“Oh, we most certainly, do! We intend to spread this among The Crystal Gems in what we’re calling Operation Airdrop. The plan is to sew discord among the rebels and instill distrust in their leader. We hope to have at least ten more agents infiltrate The Crystal Gems to assist in the operation. Of course, we’d want to be tactful about this. Even with this evidence, the steadfast trust that The Crystal Gems have in their leader will be very hard to break. These agents will be tasked with getting close to Rose’s cohorts. Once it’s been determined that my agents have fully earned their trust, they’ll begin the dissemination process. By the time Rose finds out she, ideally, will have lost the trust of most of her followers. The internal unrest that this would create would make The Crystal Gems easier to deal with as well as discourage any other gems from joining them.”  

“Brilliant!” 4 exclaimed, “I knew that quartz was a fraud, and this proves it! I don’t see how any gem could trust her after reading this!”

“Agreed,” My Diamond said, “Morganite, I must say, I was skeptical at first, but I’m impressed.”

“Thank you, My Diamond.”

“I can’t wait to see the fallout from this.” Said Blue, “Once those rebels are dealt with, you will finally be able to move forward with this colony in peace. Isn’t that great, Pink?” Pink was unresponsive, she was still staring at her holo-screen, completely lost in thought. Something was clearly troubling her, this was not lost on Blue. “Pink?”

“W-what? Oh, yeah! Yeah…” Pink continued to stare at her screen.

“Pink? is everything alright?”

Pink snapped herself out of her fog, “Oh! Uh! Yeah! I’m…just so awestruck that Rose would so stupid as to leave this lying around. Like, ‘C’mon Rose! You should know better!’ Ha! Ha! Stupid Rose! Stupid stupid Rose!”

“’Stupid’ is right.” Said My Diamond, “So Morganite, when will you be executing this operation?”

“Within the next decimal month, My Diamond. Of course, my agents will also be working with Emerald, leaking any information regarding where they intend to strike next. This will certainly cause The Crystal Gems to lose battle after battle and when it does, my agents will make sure that Rose receives most if not all of the blame.”

“Now that is just too perfect!” Exclaimed emerald. “This will surely be the beginning of the end of The Crystal Gems.”

“Great,” Said My Diamond, “the sooner we get rid those pests the better. Right Pink?”

“Yeah…” said Pink, “Right…”

After discussing the plan some more, the gems were all dismissed, and Pink went back to tend to her colony. A few weeks later, Morganite 78 began the process of executing Operation Airdrop. Things seemed to be going well but then, just days in, the bottom dropped out of the whole operation. The CGIC had a complete list of all the agents who had infiltrated or were slated to infiltrate The Crystal Gems. Somehow, Rose Quartz had gotten ahold of that list. With it, she was able to expose and capture every single agent who had infiltrated thus far and prevent more from coming in. Of course, disseminating that document would have been pointless now. Even if they somehow were able to do it, there was no way that The Crystal Gems would believe it now. All in all, it was a humiliating failure for 78. The other morganites refused to let her live it down.

Sometime later, I heard a rumor that Pink Diamond pulled 78 aside one day, said she was sorry and then immediately walked away before giving 78 a chance to respond. Many don’t believe that really happened but…I do. Pink Diamond really was a strange gem. I don’t understand why she would feel the need to apologize but I’m just a pearl. It’s not my place to question the reasoning of a diamond.

Authors Note: I know you guys are wondering what it was in that journal entry. Here it is