#Mission Report

[lezzian]

corporations with fuck-you money like disney, target, and absolut vodka make big bucks selling their overpriced garbage with the orange&pink lesbian flag on it but the person who made it is currently HOMELESS.

update 2/may/2023

since i made this post people have tried to argue on it in some really disgusting ways honestly and it's shown me that a lot of you don't actually care about protecting your community. in the meantime emily, although no longer homeless, is still begging just to get by every moth. they have a place now but are always short on money for rides, meds, rent, and other bills.

give your money to emily gwen.

[msmc-796-official]

Mission Report: Comms Transcript #1

[BEGIN TRANSMISSION]

Angel: [static noises as the audio cuts in] -get outta my way, Slipshod! I can't line up my shots with your Toku's fat ass in the way.

Slipshod: Like hell I will! Go steal one of Kennedi's kills, you thief!

Angel: Not that one, dipshit, the one behind y- shit! Slipshod, watch your six!

Slipshod: Huh-? Ah, fu- [radio cuts out]

[transmission picks up a barrage of gunfire]

Lockbreaker: Heads up!

[transmission picks up the loud THWACK! of metal on metal, followed by a burst of Flayer shotgun fire]

Lockbreaker: You're welcome. Be more careful next time, Slipshod; you're lucky my D/D wasn't charged.

Slipshod: Oh, piss off. Was that the last of them?

Angel: Command says there's one more left. Big one, from the looks of it. Approaching due north-northeast, though they can't get a clean scan of it.

Lockbreaker: Command, this is Lockbreaker. Requesting coordinates of remaining hostile; do you copy?

[transmission picks up faint radio chatter]

Lockbreaker: Coordinates incoming. Is that it over there? The big grey thing?

Slipshod: Big grey...? Aw, fuck, not another Balor. Son of a bitch. I'm already pushing heat cap. Welp, might as well torch some nanites on the way out.

Angel: Balor? Why does it... wait... no... [radio cuts out]

Lockbreaker: Command, this is Detachment 796 "Heaven's Fury" reporting in, requesting permission to break formation and engage with the enemy. Lancer MSMC-796-1 "Lockbreaker" is active and ready to engage. Slipshod, Angel, status report.

Slipshod: Lancer MSMC-796-2 "Slipshod", active and ready.

Angel: ... [extended radio silence]

Lockbreaker: Angel! Status report!

Angel: [muffled] Something is wrong...

Slipshod: Phoenix? Are you okay?

Angel: Something is wrong. Something is not right. Why do we know you? Why do I- we- I- [radio cuts out]

Slipshod: Phoenix! Shit, fuck, not now! Command, this is Slipshod. Lancer Angel has been compromised. I repeat, Lancer MSMC-796-3 "Angel" has been compromised. Requesting disengagement from combat on her behalf, over. [radio crackles in the affirmative] Kennedi, do you think you can keep our Balor friend distracted for a bit? I gotta get Phoenix to snap out of it.

Lockbreaker: I can certainly try. Any advice on engaging?

Slipshod: In a word? Don't. Greywash is sentient and hungry and wants to eat you alive. Keep your distance, and whatever you do, do NOT get hit by anything its nanites turn into.

Lockbreaker: Roger that. Engaging the target! Commencing D/D charge sequence!

[transmission picks up Flayer shotgun fire]

Slipshod: Angel! Angel, do you copy? I'm gonna get you outta the line of fire, hang tight!

[transmission picks up the sound of a ramjet firing]

Angel: Something is- something- we- I- whuh? Hello? Is someone there?

Slipshod: Angel! It's Slipshod! Do you copy?

Angel: I - we- no no nO NO NO GET AWAY-!!!

[transmission picks up the sound of stray gunfire]

Slipshod: Shit! Phoenix, hold it together! It's me, Slipshod! You're okay! I'm not going to hurt you.

Angel: [erratic] Something is wrong, something is not right, why are you here, where did it go, why do we know it, why does it know us, where are we, I'm going to die, we're already dead, no, no, please-

Slipshod: Phoenix! Please, calm down, you're okay-

[transmission picks up a concentrated burst of Flayer fire, followed by a low drone that crescendos into an angry buzzing whine]

Lockbreaker: Slipshod! It keeps eating my bullets! I need to charge my D/D to get a clean hit on its hull; can you take over for me?

Slipshod: Phoenix is still out of it; she's having DHIYED flashbacks again. I think the Balor may have triggered something. I'll swap, but for the love of RA, keep her away from it! The fighting's only making it worse.

Lockbreaker: ...roger that. Is she hostile?

Slipshod: No, I don't think so - her weapons systems are still active, but she's too disoriented to aim properly. Just keep close and she won't be able to get a shot on you. Restrain the arms if you gotta. Now go, and watch your four! I'll cover you!

[transmission picks up the sound of a ramjet firing into the near distance, followed by an explosion of Annihilator fire]

Slipshod: Hey, asshole! Come get some! [radio cuts out beneath the sound of blaring warning sirens]

Lockbreaker: Phoenix? Phoenix! It's Kennedi! Are you in there?

Angel: Something is not- something is- hello? Hello? Who's there? Show yourself!

Lockbreaker: Phoenix! It's Kennedi! I'm a friend! You're alright, you're alive, you survived. You're still here.

Angel: We- I- we're alive? I-I'm alive... still alive... Kennedi, why are you here? You have to go, we have to- [radio cuts out]

Lockbreaker: Phoenix, please, you're completely safe. I'm here. We're here. We're alive, we're okay.

Angel: I... we... I'm alive. I'm still here. It's just me, and Kennedi, and we're alive together, and we're safe, and we're okay. I... oh, my head...

Lockbreaker: Phoenix? Are you okay?

Angel: I... I'm fine. I just... ngh... I'll be okay. What's going on? Where are we? Where's Slipshod?

Lockbreaker: Slipshod's busy fighting a Balor. We're still in combat. They got you out, and I swapped out for them to draw fire away from you while you were out. Does that make sense?

Angel: The Balor... yes... oh, shit, wait, the Balor! Slipshod, I copy! I'm back! Where are you?

Slipshod: Phoenix, Kennedi, over here! [radio cuts out as the nanite droning hits fever pitch, then recedes] -therfucker, get back here! Don't you dare lose interest now! HEY! Eyes on me, jackass!

[transmission picks up sounds of gunfire mixed with the sizzle of plasma and whine of nanites]

Angel: I got your six, Slipshod! Keep at it!

Lockbreaker: My D/D is charged and ready to go! Can you get clear, Slipshod?

Slipshod: Yes ma'am! Eat plasma, you sonofa- [radio cuts out beneath the noise of a ramjet firing]

Lockbreaker: Bracing for impact! D/D 288 weapons system is charged and aimed! Clear the area!

Angel: Area secured; you're all clear!

Slipshod: Give 'em hell, galpal!

[transmission picks up nanite droning, interspersed with the mechanical whine of thrusters spinning up and crackling plasma]

Lockbreaker: Opening fire! DEEDEE GET OUT!!!

[transmission cuts off with the sound of thunder, cut with the mechanical screech of nanites]

[END TRANSMISSION]

[ficklecat]

inspired by the lovely @offensiveagentpie and their delicious fic, The right men for the job. 🩵

Hope y'all enjoy this lil nugget. Had to expel it from my brain.

[navybrat817]

I always worry when I don't revisit something for ages if anyone is still interested.

Navy do you by chance remember a tasty little gem called Ready To Comply? Who knew there was ever going to be any more where that came from. Fast forward now to Halloween 2023 and out of nowhere you treat us to Mission Report. This is exactly the fun surprise I speak of when I say some of us don't mind waiting for whatever writers such as yourself choose to share with us at any given time. It's why we first hit that follow button and why we stick around long after that first delightful read. Thank you.

I'm so glad I was able to surprise you, Christy! I managed to surprise a couple of others, too, since I didn't state what my Trick or Treat stories would be. It was so much fun to revisit. ❤️

And that's one of the crazy things about our muses. Some things we can revisit right away, others we need to take our time, and a few are fine as is. But I appreciate you and the rest of you lovelies who indulge in my nonsense. And the nonsense isn't going away. 🥰

Love and thanks! ❤️

[going-astronuts]

Mission Report: Space Station Newell Port Stardate: 1/30

Status: Ough

[saiyanprincessswanie]

December 16, 1991

*sobs in corner*

[stuckyhaul]

[lezzian]

i actually think we should not be giving JK rowling any attention in general but to be honest maybe normies should know that woman is straight up doing holocaust denial on twitter now

[beat0nthebrat]

[melora-ii]

Lunar Expedition 24509

Flight Day 42

(Adjusted time 134 years and 52 days since departure from The Bridge)

—————-

Today was my last day as an unassigned “pod squelp”, as they say.

I lay in my bed, calculating the days of my life across multiple timelines.

Roughly 140 years ago, I committed myself to the Peaceful Acquisition Project- a mission designed to study and make humanitarian military efforts towards establishing connections with non-invasive alien species across the galaxy.

I was 24 years old, still wet behind the ears and fresh from Battle School when I signed my name to be forever cast into the void of space in the name of Science, Discovery, and Peace. Even then my parents held onto hope that I’d change my mind eventually. That I’d find a partner, get married, give them their two government-approved grandchildren and leave space flight and PAP behind me.

I spent the next 6 years studying at Diplomacy School, learning how to communicate with various alien species, as well as studying past successful and unsuccessful PAP missions. Men were the least of my concern.

Seats on PAP missions were scarce and highly competitive. I had to be the best.

When my application for a seat on Lunar Expedition 24509 was finally approved, I knew I had no choice but to accept. Regardless of what that would entail for my personal timeline.

Space travel requires sacrifice. And that sacrifice is usually time related.

My parents cried when I told them what I’d done.

“We will never see you again, Mellie.” I can still hear the sound of my mother’s wailing.

“You have to do what you feel is right. This is your life, Melora.” My father said. He never was one for emotional displays.

When I stripped myself naked and stepped into that Cryo-Sleep pod docked at The Bridge, I knew the next time I opened my eyes I’d be thousands of light years away and everyone I loved back on New Earth would be long dead, their bones crystallized into dust and worm food.

I don’t think I said a proper goodbye.

As of today, I am 164 in Adjusted Years.

I’m so old.

My headset buzzes, interrupting my melancholia with 3 short bzt bzt bzt sounds. A question appears in my mind:

Read message?

Yes. I respond.

A nearly transparent digital window appears in front of me with a typed message displayed.

Melora Maesunn,

Your Cryonic Sleep Adjustment Transition was successful. Please report to Colonel Michael Crozie tomorrow morning at Standard Sun Rise for your updated flight commands.

- Doctor Formmin Mezzer, 2nd LT

So, I have finally received communication from the Pod Squad Team that I have been deemed healthy and have been successfully rehabilitated from cryo-sleep. I have graduated from my Stasis Pod Transition.

Yay.

My enthusiasm is only slightly disingenuous because of who I have been assigned to.

Colonel Crozie aka The Croz aka Michael Crozie, Lunar Expedition 24509’s Research Unit Leader. The big guy. The head honcho. The boss.

The strange thing is, I have been directed to meet with Colonel Crozie before the rest of my Pod Group are even awake. Standard Sun Rise is 05:00 and is the typical rising hour; we don’t meet in the mess hall for breakfast until 06:00.

I have only ever seen Colonel Crozie from afar, only heard his name whispered at the mess hall. He is a force to be reckoned with, it appears. He takes his missions very seriously, no time for games or jokes. He is infamous for his set-downs when dealing with rowdy recruits. He’s been known to demote a level iii recruit back to mop duty for a week just to remind them of where they came from.

I have no desire to get on this guy’s bad side.

Still, I’m very curious to learn if my other Pod Group members were given similar assignments.

Pod groups are released in intervals- twelve people at a time. Typically these twelve recruits go through Cryo Adjustment together. As they are transitioned into Flight Commands after adjustment, these twelve will often receive varying assignments based on their skill-level across the ship until landing at the mission’s destination. However, the twelve remain in a tight-knit group. Bunks, schedules, and menial duties are kept the same within the group.

Once we have landed on Bemri 555, a heavily forested moon of the planet Iona, we will continue to bunk and work together outside of our Mission Commands. Pod groups are forever. Or at least until the Mission is complete.

I poke my head outside of my cabin door. It’s a little after 21:00 and most of my Pod Group are asleep by 20:00.

Gratze’s light is still on. We are close in age and temperament. She is a brilliant mathematician.

I knock on Gratze’s door. It opens moments later.

Gratze is a beautiful shade of warm brown, and her eyes are electric green. Her hair is a light violet hue, and it falls in ringlets around her shoulders. Her cheeks glint with a rainbow-dusted assortment of cybernetic communication chips placed shallowly beneath her skin.

We are both still wearing our dark red government-issued jumpsuits since it’s against code to not do so outside of the sleep quarters, which are in a private area of each cabin behind closed doors. No one, not even shared Pod Groups, ever enters another crew-mate’s sleep quarters. Alarms will go off.

Fraternizing is a punishable offense.

“Hello, Melora.” Her demeanor is welcoming, if confused at seeing me at this hour. She is far too polite to comment on it, though. She opens the door all the way and motions me into her cabin to sit at a small table. The cabins are minute and sparse, and all equally sized; just enough room for one adult to live comfortably.

“Good Standard Sun Downing, Gratze.”

I will never understand this lingo. Standard Sun Downing was two hours ago at 19:00 technically, but we greet each other as if it just happened until Standard Sun Rising occurs again at 05:00. Spaceship culture, I tell ya.

“Indeed. Can I help you with something, Melora?”

“Yes, actually. I have received my Flight Command assignment just now.”

“You graduated from Stasis Transition? Why, Melora, that’s fantastic. I think we only have two more from our Pod to go.”

Gratze was one of the first to graduate. This is her second time in Cryo-Sleep. I’m not sure what her previous mission was, as those are highly classified.

“I thought so too. But well…I have been directed to meet with Colonol Crozie in the morning…”

“Colonel Crozie?” Gratze interrupts. Her facial expressions don’t betray her emotions, but I can tell she is surprised. Gratze never interrupts.

“Yes. At oh-five-hundred, before mess hall. Can you think why…?”

“Oh, Melora. Don’t be silly. I couldn’t speculate on such things. Colonol Crozie does as he will. And always has.”

Gratze is trying to possess a comforting demeanor, but I can tell she is feeling quite uncomfortable herself. She doesn’t know why I would be asked to meet with the Colonel. She has never experienced this before. Gratze would never say such a thing out-loud, of course. But I can tell. Her energy is…

“Melora, listen. I think it’s best you go to your cabin and try to get some rest. oh-five-hundred will come soon enough.”

I stand up and walk to the door while speaking. “Of course, Gratze. Thank you for the visit. Hopefully our other Pod Group members will graduate shortly. I will see you tomorrow morning at the mess hall.”

Gratze says nothing to this, she just follows me and stops at the door, inclining her head at me slightly.

“Good Standard Sun Downing, Melora.”

The door closes before I can respond.

I return to my own cabin and enter my sleep quarters. I strip my jumpsuit and step into a tiny Decontamination Stall. I don’t even have to take all of my clothes off for it to work. I press a button and one quick, punctuated zap later, I have been cleansed of all dust and germs by highly-concentrated heat waves.

I miss standing beneath a scalding-hot stream of water.

After my successful decontamination, I put on my government- issued sleep clothes: a pair of black spandex shorts and a fitted tank.

Once in my bunk, I close my eyes and wonder.

What do you want from me, Michael Crozie?

[palaodice]

Frick it I'll just draw "erotic" nonesense

[bardlikegames]

MISSION REPORT :: 05/28

YO~! I'm writing here for a few reasons: 1) I'm distracted 2) I'm at the halfway point for the production of Qwertyclash 2!! All that's left is the grand finale, The Gauntlet!!! Another big hype smash video is in the works, and I'll be hittin' the live workshop from time to time on it again! 3) There are SO many projects on the burners that it's all starting to flood out again, so I reeeeally wanna get my head on straight and figure out SOME kind of game plan post-clash. SO HERE IT IS!!!!?!!!! BBs report in!!!

Punch BB: I wanna punch!!! But more importantly I wanna MOVE! I've got moves I wanna see and action scenes in my head that just won't quit, so I want to practice more rigging and do more test animations!!! ScrapBB: BULLETS!!!! HEYHEYHEY have you thought about ten-thousand bullets lately? I HAVE! I love hells full of bullets and I want DRAW with BULLETS~ I've got just the game for that, and I've already been messing with code for it! but not the bullets... yet. I gotta make the thing that moves around the bullets first... YOU! 🔫 CursedBB: 📜🖋👀✨👉⏹❎🔳◼🔣🎮❓❓❓ CircusBB: uh??? I've been messing with little lads... but they need better faces!!! once ya'll are done in the workshop with smashing things, can we learn how to make a face?? ✨ ZB: BLOOD AND DARKNESS LETS PLAY ALREADY

there you have it!! it sounds like everyone's itching to learn more blender on a surface level, more basic animation tests and finally learning how to texture things, and maybe animate those textures???

By the way things are looking, smash production will be over by July! I hope to get more consistent and do streams in a smaller and more frequent format to help me train better. and of course, PLENTY of games I've been wanting to go live with, once I've earned it. ✨

:: SEE YOU NEXT MISSION 🔥

[navybrat817]

Navy's Nonsense: 10/30 - 11/5

This was supposed to go up on Monday! Boo. Planned fic below will post this week. Anything else shared if there's time is extra. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog so you don't miss out on any new fics, updates, or polls. ❤️ Divider by the talented @firefly-graphics .

We wrapped up my Trick or Treat Nonsense!

Planned nonsense posted 10/30: Mission Report (Incubus!Bucky Barnes x Reader x Incubus!Steve Rogers)

Nonsense ficlets posted on 11/3:

Temporary Job (Dark!Ransom Drysdale x Reader)

Home Video (Dark!Nick Fowler x Reader)

The Silent Treatment (Dark!Andy Barber x Reader)

Nonsense ficlet posted 11/5: A Hero's Reward (Dark!Bucky Barnes x Reader)

Did you miss last week's Nonsense? No worries! Check it out here. Love and thanks for reading. ❤️

[vandelays-rockstar]

finally decided to make my own sideblog, I’ll get the details and about page up later

[augustinewrites]

it’s been…a while since you and satoru have gone on an assignment together.

having two young children at home made it difficult to take off on short notice and be away for days at a time. they needed stability and routine, so the two of you had decided that one person would stay home while the other was working.

for a while, that’d worked fine. but now that megumi and tsumiki were older, self-sufficient teens who loved nothing more than being left alone, satoru had seen this as an opportunity.

you’d still been a little hesitant, but it was a simple surveillance mission. easy, right?

“water. you need to stay hydrated.” you instruct when he gets back into the car. he takes the water bottle you’re holding out, unscrewing the cap and taking a swig.

“gakuganji isn’t even home yet,” he reports with a sigh. you hum, distracted as you check your phone. gojo reaches across your knees to pull open the glovebox, rifling through colourful snack wrappers.

“tsumiki hasn’t texted me back,” you mutter. “should i ask nanami to check in on them?”

“nah, i’m sure they’re just super busy trashing the apartment and racking up charges on the emergency credit card. ah– found it!” he pulls out a black silk sleep mask, slipping it on so it rests on his forehead.

“really?” you ask, unimpressed as he holds a second one out to you. “you’re taking a nap?”

“yeah, it’ll be easier to sneak around when it’s dark, why stay awake till then?”

“is that a good idea?” you ask, though you know there’s really no point in trying to argue with his logic.

“your fault for keeping me awake all night. late night laundry folding is no joke.”

“if you’d put it in the dryer when i’d asked—”

“can’t hear you,” he sing-songs, pulling the mask over his eyes. “you can take a nap too, you know. that old fart couldn’t get past us even while asleep.”

“i’ll pass on the nap. need to wait for tsumiki to text.”

he grumbles something incoherent that you’re sure is meant to be argumentative as he reclines his seat a little and lays back, getting comfortable and quiet.

…for about 45 seconds.

you watch out of the corner of your eye as he pulls the mask up a half inch, just enough for his right eye to observe you.

“what do you want now?” you ask.

then, with casualty akin to asking what you want for lunch, he clears his throat and asks, “do you want to have sex?”

“do i want to have what?” you ask, turning to stare at him incredulously, but your face is hot and for a split second, you’d considered agreeing.

“sex,” he repeats, patting his lap with a shit-eating grin. “we’re going to be here for a while, anyways. these seats recline way back—”

“i am not having sex in this car with you, satoru!”

he groans over-dramatically (as he tends to do). “will you at least cuddle with me then? i’m desperate and touch-starved and hopelessly in love with you!”

you make a note to figure out what cheesy rom com he stole that line from, but lean across the console to trail kisses up his shoulder, his neck. satoru does nothing to protect himself from your overly affectionate onslaught, he’s quick to catch your jaw, pulling you in for a proper kiss.

“wait. no, no, no!” he protests when you pull back, eyes suddenly trained on the house you’re meant to be watching. “you can’t just leave me high and dry—”

“he’s home!” you whisper, pressing a hand over his mouth (though he continues with muffled complaints). “pull the car a little further back before we get out.”

you’ve already summoned your shikigami as satoru maneuvers the car into the dense forestry, about to send them off when your phone vibrates in your lap.

“oh! megumi texted me,” you inform him. “he said…‘already made dinner. tsumiki is out on a date—’”

the car grinds to a halt and abruptly turns, the momentum causing your to slam into the side of the car as it peels out onto the dirt road. you curse loudly as your fiancé, devoid of all his playfulness from earlier, speeds through the forest.

“what the— satoru!”