#Operation Ketch

[coochiequeens]

This is the second story I’m posting about a transwoman sexually exploiting or trying exploit children in just one day.

A trans-identified male who was convicted for the possession, production, and distribution of horrific child abuse materials has been released from prison early in Ireland, despite not being legally allowed to even be in the country. 

Bruno Binda De Souza, who also uses the name Bruna Meirelles, was released from prison on October 26 after being caught with “thousands of depraved child abuse images.” 

De Souza, 32, had previously pleaded guilty to four counts of possession of child pornography, five counts of production of child pornography, and one count of distribution of child pornography on three dates between December 2017 and July 2020. The materials were found on all of his electronic devices, including his phones and computer.

As reported by Sunday World, during the trial, the court heard how De Souza was introduced to child abuse material by a former client while using the drug crystal meth. 

After viewing it for the first time, De Souza reportedly became interested and downloaded significant amounts of the material. The court was told that De Souza began distributing sexual images of children via WhatsApp and Facebook, and had engaged in sexual conversations about children with other pedophiles on the internet.

His crimes were uncovered as part of an operation into child abuse material called Operation Ketch. Gardaí, Ireland’s national police force, were notified of De Souza’s activity by the US National Centre for Missing and Exploited Children (NCMEC). Guardaí then launched an investigation into De Souza and seized multiple devices. 

On one phone, 2,464 illegal images were uncovered, with 752 images and videos being found on another phone. Additional evidence was uncovered on his MacBook.

Detective Garda Martin Allen told the court that some of the child abuse images found were “unique” in that Gardaí working the Cyber Crime division had not come across them before. Police often cross-reference child sexual exploitation images against catalogues of media that have been uncovered in the past in order to assist in the gathering of information of importance, including tracking distribution and locating victims. 

De Souza, who is a Brazilian national, was based in Dublin at the time of his crimes and, during the criminal proceedings, his visa expired. He was expected to be deported upon his release, but has reportedly been allowed to freely leave Midlands Prison and enter the community.

Prior to his arrest, De Souza had been active as a prostitute in Ireland, charging 250 Euros per hour. Operating on Irish escort websites under the name “TS Pocahontas” since 2011, he earned thousands of Euros per week. His profile, which has since been removed, boasted of De Souza’s penis size. 

Despite the horrendous nature of the materials De Souza was found with and distributed, presiding Judge Martin Nolan portrayed De Souza sympathetically.

“I don’t think she is a bad person but, she committed serious offenses and the court must punish her for her misbehavior,” Judge Nolan said, using feminine pronouns to refer to De Souza.

Judge Nolan also stated that De Souza had no previous convictions and had co-operated with the Gardaí in handing over passwords to his devices. 

In 2020, Nolan sentenced De Souza to only three years in prison, but backdated it to when he was first placed in custody. His October 26 release indicates he was turned loose just 2 years into the sentence. 

While in prison, De Souza had reportedly demanded a hairstylist or aesthetician be sent in to visit him, but his request was rejected. 

[quad-nova]

any way in a modern linked universe wind is in like a remote/home school co-op because he lives on an island with canonically a total four (4) school aged kids and no physical school so he does online classes with people from different islands, which is how he originally meets like medli and makar. tetra’s boat got that satellite internet so he sits in his 9th grade english zoom call and discusses great expectations with some teacher who lives on windfall and then the second he leaves the call he and tetra have an hour to commit pirate crimes until he has to be back on for geometry.

(the pirate crimes wind and tetra commit are not the act of exploring uninhabited islands, actually - i'm imagining tetra's boat to be like a offshore ketch (since its carrying a crew most of the time and because i want the a e s t h e t i c that comes from having multiple sails, but i also want link and tetra to ditch the rest of their crew and go off on their own) so they can probably sail at 6-8 knots (7-9 mph) which makes leaving territorial waters* (12 nautical miles (~14 regular miles)) a viable day trip adventure for them. the government of hyrule defines piracy as (conveniently for me) "acts that endanger the safe navigation of ships" **(and ive decided sailing without a boating license is included in this list along with, ya know, the usual things like seizing control of a ship or plundering distressed vessels (has tetra's crew ever seized control of a ship or plundered a distressed vessel? who knows, certainly not a court of law)) gonzo has a valid boating license and tends to be at the helm since it causes the least problems if they get questioned at port. tetra, however, (as an unfortunate side effect of being born in secret to escape unspecified hyrule royal family political turmoil(context pending)) does not legally exist in the eyes of the law, and therefore has not only no boating license, but also no legal identification at all. therefore, the act of sailing on the open seas without a license counts as a "endangering the safe navigation of ships" in international waters ∴ piracy)

four is home schooled because he refuses to learn anything that he isnt intensely interested in, so grandpa smith threw in the towel years ago and just counts his 16 hour long deep dive on 18th century occult practices as a history assignment. he'd love to push for some grammar lessons today but four has already disappeared into the garage to use a disassembled microwave to do fractal wood burning*** on the handle of a bowie knife he made out of a broken crescent wrench.

*contiguous zones? economic exclusion zones? never heard of them, its my half thought out modern au, the bureaucracy only exists in ways that are convenient for me

** us law defines acts of piracy that endanger the safe navigation of ships as: seizing or exercising control of a ship by force or threat of force, performing an act of violence against a person onboard a ship, destroying a ship or its cargo, placing or causing to be placed on a ship a device that could destroy or damage the ship and its cargo, destroying or damaging maritime navigational facilities or interfering with their operation, communicating navigational information that is known to be false but likely to be believed, plundering distressed vessels, corruption of seamen, depredation at sea, privateering, injuring or killing a person while committing any of those acts listed, and attempting or conspiring to commit those acts listed. i choose to believe that tetra has committed a third or more of this list

*** there have been 34 reported deaths from fractal wood burning, do not attempt.

[hertha2]

The cargo ketch Nordlys in Öresund on June 25, 2019.

Nordlys sails without an engine and is possibly the worlds oldest cargo ship (1873) still working. Nordlys operates in the European coastal trade. Originally built as a fishing trawler, she has been refitted and is able to carry a maximum of 30 tons of wine, olive oil, cider or other goods.

[girlballs]

since when is there a huge seemingly pointless area in Operation: Seraph's Shield if you turn around and go under the station after leaving the ketch

[notgonnaedit]

Healer's Heart

Decommissioned

Summary: When Order 66 ushers in a new era, Althea and the Batch must find their place

Pairing: Bad Batch x Teen!OFC (clones being good brothers/dads)

Chapter summary: The Batch go on another job for Cid and meet two sisters, emulating questions they would like answered

Warnings: Canon-typical violence, Martez sisters deserve their own warning, smelting Depot, reference to Fives, Wrecker fighting the chip, (If I miss a tag LMK)

Master list

​​​​​In Cid's parlor, Echo was teaching Omega how to shoot her new bow. She let go just as someone came down the steps, causing them to yelp and run away in fear.

"S-sorry." Omega said sheepishly. She 

Echo kneeled to her level as she pulled back her bow. The curly haired girl's arms shook as she aimed for the yellow target painted on the wall. "Steady," Echo instructed. "Arms level...and keep you eye on the target."

"You can do it, kid!" Cheered the Ithorian Bolo.

"Not a chance." Said Ketch, his Weequay friend. "Miss! Come on! Miss!"

Althea shook her head from where she stood beside Tech. Those two had been betting on Omega's skill, much to everyone's displeasure.

Omega released her bow, firing a laser at the taget and hitting it. "Ah! Got it." She said with a small fist pump.

Bolo laughed. "Bull's-eye! Pay up!"

Ketch groaned as Echo rested his hand on Omega's shoulder. "Good. Again."

"But I've already hit the target three times." The blonde argued.

"Out of twelve." Echo's voice was stern. "That's luck, Omega, not skill. Soldiers need to be consistent."

The girl let out a sigh before pulling back her bow. Her arms shook worse than before and when Ketch made the comment about doubling the bet if she chokes, she did just that. Omega groaned as Ketch cackled. "I was doing better until those two showed up."

"You have to learn to tune out distractions, which comes with practice." Echo chided. "Again."

"Not exactly a natural, is she?" Wrecker whispered when Omega missed again. Hunter shrugged lightly, silently agreeing.

"Hey!" Wrecker grunted as Cid broke through their small circle.

"Okay, playtime's over." The Trandoshan declared. "We need to talk." She turned to the other two patrons. "You two, scram."

"Hey!" Ketch said. "Okay, we're going. We're going!"

Once they were gone, Cid turned back to the squad. "I assume you boys know what a tactical droid is?"

When no one answered, Tech shoved Hunter away and gently moved Althea. "They were the operational brains of the brains of the Separatist military–"

"Ba-ba-ba-ba-ba." Cid interrupted. "This is my briefing, Goggles." She shoved Wrecker off of the holo table he sat on and pressed a button to show a picture of the target. "Tactical droid intel has tremendous value, which is why your gonna break into this decommissioning facility on Corellia–" She changed the image to a factory. "–And retrieve one before they're all destroyed."

"We haven't decided if we're gonna work for you or not." Said Hunter.

"Allow me to decide for you. You're in!" Cid ordered.

Althea let out a soft growl, something she didn't intentionally do.

Cid sent a glare her way. "Got a problem, Bright Eyes?"

Yes, Althea had many problems and Cid was one of them. But she made no response, and the Trandoshan nodded. "Good." She turned back to Hunter. "I'm talking a mutually beneficial arrangement. You make money, I make money, and I watch your back. With the heat on you, it's the best option you've got."

Hunter let out a small sigh. "I guess we're in."

"I know you're in. I just told you you're in. And you–" Cid turned to Omega and held her arm. "–you're releasing too soon because of those weak noodle arms. Build up your strength." She grabbed the bow and shot three perfect bull's-eyes before handing it back. "Lesson over."

                   •°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•

Aboard the Marauder, the squad clung to the bottom of a freighter ship.

"This old trick?" Echo asked.

"It gets us past the planetary sensors every time." Tech told him.

Althea smirked. "Except for that time on Felucia."

Tech shot her a look. "We both know that wasn't my fault. And if I recall correctly, we agreed to never speak of Felucia again."

The medic's smirk turned to a full grin, but she didn't press the subject.

"Why is a tactical droid more important than the other droids?" Omega asked as she looked at a holo of their target.

"The more tactical droids fought, the more they learned...and won." Echo told her.

Wrecker grinned. "Yeah, except against us."

"With clones now serving the Empire, knowing how to defeat them just went up in value." Said Tech.

"We're approaching the decommissioning site." Hunter said. "We can land at the industrial dockyard and go in on foot."

Once Tech landed the ship, it was only a matter of sneaking around into the actual smelting depot. The entire building smelled like burnt metal and fire. Along the catwalks were several droids with yellow paint patrolling.

"Cid didn't mention this place was guarded by police droids." Hunter said.

Althea scowled under her mask. "She seems to have that problem."

Tech pulled down his visor, calculating as always. "They're operating on a rotating quadrant scan. If timed correctly, there's an entry point in their blind spot. Follow me."

On his signal, they slunk around the factory until they reached a tall ladder.

"Uh-oh." Wrecker said quietly, but he climbed the ladder nonetheless. At the very top was a door leading to the inner smelting chamber. It was hotter than hell, thought Althea. She could feel the sweat starting even through her armor.

Workers in special suits to stand the heat walked around doing whatever their job was. Wrecker put one in a sleeper hold as they walked through. Finally, once they reached the catwalk, Hunter gave them their orders.

"Echo, Tech, Althea. We'll locate and retrieve the droid. Wrecker, cover us up top."

"But being lookout was Crosshair's job." The demo man groaned.

"That wasn't a request."

Omega looked to Hunter. "What about me? What should I do?"

"Stay here and keep your eyes peeled for the target." Hunter turned to his team. "Let's move."

Omega used her binocs, watching as Wrecker climbed to a tower and took out a worker. Hunter's team made their way to a console where Echo scomped in.

"A tactical droid is listed in the system," Said the ARC. "But only one."

"We have one shot at this." Said Hunter. "Let's get it right."

"Where was the droid off-loaded?" Asked Tech.

Echo spun his scomp. "North end conveyer."

Omega gasped over the comm. "Found it. Sort of. The droid's already in pieces."

"Is the head intact?" Tech asked.

"Affirmative. Wait! Someone just ran off with the droid head."

"I see 'em." Said Wrecker. "One of the workers is stealing our target."

"I'm on it." Omega said, but Hunter stopped her.

"Negative. Stay out of sight." He ordered.

Althea's attention was grabbed by the sound of footsteps. They were coming from the stairs. She nudged Tech, jerking her head towards the stairs. 

"Rafa, come in." A feminine voice said. "What's going on? Where are you? We need to get out of here." 

Tech and Althea raised their blasters at the woman in the workers clothes. She was holding the droid head. "Who are you?" The medic asked.

The woman pushed up her mask, revealing a round face and bronze skin. "Who am I? Who are you?"

Suddenly, a blaster shot rang out. "We've got blaster fire!" A male worker yelled. An alarm blared as the machines stopped working. Police droids came storming in.

"We've got police droids closing in." Said Echo.

"Focus your fire." Hunter ordered as he began to blast at the droids. He ducked behind the stairwell. "Omega, report."

"There's a second person after the tactical droid." She said. "Don't worry. I'm in pursuit."

"No, stay put." Hunter said. "We already have the droid head."

The girl with the head ran up the stairs. "No you don't."

"Hey! Get back here!" Althea chased after the woman, anger fueling her. Hunter was hot on her heels, chasing after the girl with the head. 

She tossed it up to another woman, but it was knocked away on to a conveyer belt. The first woman ran after it, but the second was surrounded by droids. Hunter and Althea blasted them.

The second woman had the same bronze skin as the first, but she wore eyeshadow and dark lipstick. "Hope you're not expecting gratitude."

"Should we have let the droids shoot you?"

"You're welcome?"

Hunter and Althea spoke at the same time, both emitting the same amount of disbelief and annoyance.

"I have the droid head!" Omega said over the comms. Suddenly, everything in the facility came to a screeching halt.

Wrecker blasted at the police droids from the tower. "Wrecker," Echo's voice came over the comms. "Get to the main control panel."

Wrecker ran around the platform, but halted when it came to a steep drop. The control panel was on the other side. "Whoa, whoa! Whoa... I can't reach the platform."

"It's the only way to reboot the whole facility. Figure it out!" The ARC snapped.

"Yeah, that's easy for you to say!" Wrecker sighed as he put his blaster away, his eyes finding a crane hook he could use to swing across.

"Wrecker, hurry!"

The demo man let out a whine before leaping and grabbing on to the hook. His stomach churned as he swung back and forth. "Don't look down. Don't look down. Don't look down. Don't–"

He let go and landed on the platform, but with his momentum, Wrecker slammed his head into the metal post. He clutched his helmet, the pain unbearable. His entire skull pounded, but right behind his right temple felt like something was stabbing from the inside.

"Wrecker, what are you waiting for?" Tech asked.

Barely aware of what he was doing, Wrecker managed to blast a few droids and turn the system back on. He fell to his knees, still clutching his helmeted head.

"Wrecker, the system's online. Now get down here."

He could barely hear Tech over the stabbing pain. He needed to do something, but what? "Good soldiers..." His voice cracked in a whispering stutter.

What did he need to do?! He needed to stop.... something. He needed to obey, then the pain would cease. "Good... soldiers..." He grunted, his head stabbing from the inside and his vision went black.

Hunter and Althea blasted at the droids with the woman. "Why are you after that tactical droid?" Hunter asked.

"That's none of your business, clone." She snarled.

"It is today."

Althea was tempted to knock this woman out with the butt end of her blaster. More then tempted, she was about to do it. But the woman's comm beeped.

"Rafa, I've got the target. Meet me at the north exit."

Rafa grunted as she continued to blast, but soon Omega's voice came on over Hunter and Althea's comms.

"Hunter, I'm stuck on the conveyer. I need help." She sounded scared, more scared than Hunter had ever heard her.

"I'm on my way." He said. He looked to Althea. She nodded, silently telling him she would be fine in her own.

Hunter took a grappling hook from his pack and threw it over the catwalk above them.

"What are you doing?" Rafa asked.

"I'm talking down the support posts. Follow me!" Hunter jumped down on to one of the conveyers, attaching his hook to it.

"Who put you in charge?" Rafa asked.

Althea rolled her yellow eyes and groaned. "For the love of all things holy, will you shut up?!"

Suddenly, the metal groaned and the catwalk came crashing down. Althea pushed Rafa out of the way on to the conveyer.

Hunter ran down the line, jumping over the old droid parts as he ran for Omega.

"Hunter!!" She screamed, so fearful and desperate.

"Hang on, Omega!" Hunter blasted at the droids that got in the way. He could hear her scream as she fell into the pit. She would only have so long before the magma over took her, or melted the soles of her boots. Hunter found the other woman helping Omega, pulling her up with a droid leg. He joined her immediately, pulling up the girl.

"We got you, kid." He said, relief washing over him. "Are you okay?"

Omega panted hard, but her eyes were alert. "Yeah."

Hunter looked to the woman. She looked similar to Rafa, but seemed to be closer to Althea's age, just a bit older. "Thank you."

She smiled softly. "You're welcome." While she looked similar to Rafa, she was much kinder.

Speaking of Rafa, she and Althea came falling to where Hunter was. The medic tucked and rolled, but Rafa just fell. Althea came over to Omga instantly, scanning for injuries. She them looked up at Hunter, who nodded and squeezed her shoulder gently.

"Oh, I'm fine." Said Rafa as she stood. "Don't worry about me or anything." A droid climbed the ladder behind her, but she quickly disposed of it. "Well," She said as she holstered her blaster. "This has been a real treat, but as you can see, the tactical droid is ours."

Hunter drew his blasters. "We can debate this later."

Althea nodded, shooting at the droids. "If we wanna get out of here, we need to work together."

Rafa scowled. "Fine, but I still don't like you."

Hunter ran behind Omega and Althea. "I'm used to it."

Wrecker groaned softly. Somewhere, he could hear Tech calling for him. But the pain in his head wouldn't stop. He couldn't tell what was real from the nightmare. "No. No. No, no, no."

Crosshair's voice echoed in his mind. "Good soldiers follow orders!" 

Ever since Kaller, Wrecker had been feeling strange. He had a strange urge to fight the Padawan Hunter let go, but he trusted his brother and ignored it. It got worse after he hit his head in the crash. All this time, a nagging voice was telling him to follow orders, but he had to fight it.

Hunter, Althea, Omega, and the sisters ran up to Tech and Echo. "All the exits are blocked. And it's about to get worse." Said the Sergeant.

Echo nodded. "A larger wave of police droids is headed our way."

Trace, Rafa's sister, clutched the droid head to her. "We need a diversion."

Rafa leaned over from blasting droids. "What we need is a diversion."

Trace blinked. "Is there an Echo in here."

The ARC squatted in front of her, not being able to pass up this perfect opportunity. "Yes."

"What?"

Echo grinned under his helmet and gave her a small salute. "I'm Echo." Fives would've loved that one.

Trace raised an eyebrow. "Really? Okay, Echo, we need a distraction. And he can help with that." She flipped the droid head in her hands.

"What's that thing gonna do?" Omega asked.

Trace smirked. "We need an army to get out of this. And we happen to have one." She started to work on the head.

"If you activate those clankers, they'll start shooting at us." Echo pointed out.

"Not if we're controlling the droid who's controlling them."

Tech came next to her. "Excellent idea."

Trace put her tool away. "That should do the trick."

The droids eyes lit up. "Cannot transmit..." It powered down.

"It didn't work." Omega groaned.

Tech stuck something on to it and inserted a data stick. "It will, once we boost the signal. And this will help me access the program."

Omega lifted her comm. "Wrecker, do you copy? Wrecker, where are you? We need your help."

A few moments later and the demo man answered. "On my way."

"Brilliant plan, Trace." Rafa snarked. "Really. One of your best."

Althea bit back a swear as she blasted droids. Not when the kid was around.

"We just need a little more time." Trace said.

Just then, Wrecker came plummeting down with a scream. Immediately, he started blasted and throwing around the droids. "Yeah!" He laughed. "I got tired of you guys having all the fun."

Rafa smiled. "Now, him I like."

But even Wrecker couldn't hold them off. He retreated to behind a pipe, blasting when he could.

"Hang on." Tech said as he worked on the tact droid. "The data exchange is nearly complete. Done!" He pulled the data stick from it.

"What is happening?" It asked.

Trace looked at it. "Activate battle droids. Command them to attack all police droids."

"Affirmative."

All the droids whirred to life in the facility. "New command sequence." Said the head. "Your target is factory personal."

They did as the head ordered. "Never thought I'd see battle droids helping us." Remarked Echo.

"That's our cue." Hunter said. "Move out!"

As they ran, Tech showed him the data stick. "Mission accomplished."

"Nice work."

As they ran, Trace called for their droid to pick them up. But in the process, she lost the droid head. It was blasted to bits as they made their escape on to their ship. Althea swore she saw the words The Silver Angel painted on the side, but she had no time to laugh.    

                       •°•°•°•°•°•°•

Aboard their ship, the sisters and the Bad Batch recovered from their battle. Althea kneeled in front of Omega, tending to some minor burns.

"All that work for nothing." Trace lamented.

Omega sighed. "Whoever Cid's buyer is isn't going to be happy."

Rafa turned to Hunter. "Let me get this straight. You knew how dangerous the information on the tactical droid is, but you didn't know who you were giving it to?"

Hunter folded his arms over his chest. "We're being paid to acquire and deliver, not ask questions."

"Paid is an understatement." Althea scoffed.

Trace looked up at Hunter. "Our contact needed that information to fight back against the Empire. They're trying to help people and make things better."

"Why aren't you fighting for the Empire?" Rafa asked. "Isn't that what you clones do now?"

"Not all of us." Hunter said. "We're different."

"Yeah, I've heard that before." Rafa scoffed.

Hunter frowned. As much as he hated to admit it, Rafa was right.

                         •°•°•°•°•

"You should come visit us sometime." Omega said as the sisters dropped them off at their ship.

"Isn't that part of Ord Mantell a little...seedy?" Trace tried her best to be polite.

Omega grinned. "Very. It's great!"

Hunter shook his head, but a smile was present as he did. Althea hung her head, no longer wanting to be around the sisters. She liked Trace, but Rafa was a piece of work.

Rafa smiled "Keep working on that bow, kid."

Omega nodded. "I will. Bye!"

"Bye, Omega. Bye, Althea." Trace said as the girls walked away. The medic kept her hand on Omega's back, guiding her to the ship.

Hunter took the data rod and handed it to Rafa. "Here."

"What's this?"

"Tech copied the tactical droid's intel to this data rod before it got got destroyed."

"Why are you giving it to us?"

Hunter looked Rafa in the eye. "You'll use it for the right reasons."

The woman nodded. "Huh...Maybe you are different."

Hunter turned to walk away, but he looked back. "To be honest, things were a lot clearer when we were just soldiers."

Rafa smiled. "Take it from me. In the end, we all choose sides."

Hunter nodded before walking away, jogging slightly to get to the ship. Omega stood in the doorway waving as the sisters left. 

Hunter pulled the girl inside as Tech piloted away. Althea was tending to Wrecker, something the demo man detested. 

"I'm fine, really."

Althea jabbed him with a disinfectant. "Oh, you're fine? Why didn't you say so? I'll just ignore the face that you've been shot in the same spot for the third time this month!"

Wrecker rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. "Ugh. Fine."

Hunter chuckled. The girls of the squad sure were tenacious.

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[winchester-girl67]

Don’t Say A Word (Part 10)

Summary: Dean's jealousy starts to show when Y/N tends to Sam's hand. And he gets overprotective when Sam asks for her help with the case.

Masterlist

Pairing: Bodyguard!Dean x reader

Word Count: 2,071

Warnings: language, angst, arguing, bickering, minor injury, brief mentions of death/drugs, drinking, Sam being cute, pining, jealousy, unrequited feelings, love triangle, slow burn, some fluff

A/N: We see a bit more of the love triangle going on in this part. It just sort of happened when I wrote Sam.

_____

Dean was looking at you with what could only be described as frustrated jealousy when you dragged Sam into the cabin. It struck you as odd since you were supposed to hate each other. You had hated each other for most of the time you were together. Minus the twelve hours the truce had lasted, six of which were spent asleep.

You pushed Sam to sit on the edge of the tub as you stood in front of him. It was certainly a change to manhandle someone practically twice your size for once. It was a bit of a power rush, you had to admit, even if you knew Sam was letting you do it.

You took out the first aid kit and disinfected the crescent bite mark on his palm. You added that antibiotic cream that Dean had used on you and gently applied a large bandage over the wound. All the while Dean hovered in the doorway, pacing back and forth until you shot him a dirty look and he backed off.

_____

"You want me to do what?" You asked with wide eyes, a while later, sitting on the couch next to Sam while Dean sat hunched over awkwardly on the bottom bunk so his head wouldn't hit the top part of the frame.

"Pretend to be Auburn, just for a couple of hours until I can get Ketch to set up a meeting with the man in charge of the operation. I promise I won't let anything bad happen to you, Y/N." Sam bargained, crossing his heart and using those damned puppy dog eyes on you again.

"But you yourself said I don't look anything like her." You argued, not all that anxious to throw yourself back into that hot mess that you barely made it out of in the first place.

"You don't, not really. You've got something that she doesn't." He smiled, brushing back your hair and gazing into your eyes, unaware of the tinge of red creeping up his neck and into his cheeks. You heard Dean make a fake gagging noise behind you and shot him a hateful stare as he rolled his eyes in return. "But I've been thinking about that. With the makeup and wig she usually wears to events, I think you could pass-"

"You think?"

"Like I said, Ketch still thinks that you were her. This wouldn't be that far of a stretch and you would never be in the same room as the man in charge." Sam tried to explain, but you just kept shaking your head. "Just hear me out. If we get this guy, you are home-free. You get to walk away and live your life again. Right now you're stuck here playing doppelgänger until Auburn returns and let's face it, that's probably not any time soon. I just need an in to flush him out. I need you."

"But, what if-"

"I'll be with you the whole time, Ketch won't even come near you. I promise." Sam urged and despite your nerves, you were considering it.

You wanted to go home, sleep in your own bed, wear your own clothes, and take a shower that didn't smell like rotten eggs. All without your grumpy sidekick, or having to watch over your shoulder at every odd creak and groan that your old apartment inevitably made. You told yourself that you could do this. You could get into the mindset of Auburn, you could work with Sam on catching this guy, and you trusted him to keep you safe. He did it once.

"For the record, I don't like this. But," you sighed, combing your hair back through your fingers. "I guess, I don't have much of a choice."

"Thank you, Y/N-" Sam began.

"You've gotta be fucking kidding me. This isn't her fight, Sam. She's a fucking civilian. She isn't doing this." Dean blurted out, finally having had enough of the sidelines.

"Excuse you, but you don't talk for me. I make my own decisions." You fumed.

"Yeah well, you're terrible at it, so somebody with a little common sense needs to step in and save you from yourself." Dean argued.

"I guess that rules you out then." You taunted, earning a frown from Dean. "And you don't control me, so don't pretend to."

"No wonder you two hate each other. All you do is bicker." Sam interrupted.

"Nobody asked you, Samuel." Dean reprimanded, shooting his little brother a stern side glance.

"Look, Dean, she's gonna be fine-"

"I'm coming with you." Dean demanded.

"No." His brother retorted.

"Yes," Dean countered.

"Nu-uh." Sam shook his head.

"Uh-huh," Dean nodded.

The whole exchange looked very juvenile to you. Like you supposed how they would fight when they were younger.

"You can't. They know who you are, Dean." Sam stressed, pushing back his hair to show off his serious face.

"Sure, but they don't know what I look like. We'll just say that I'm the guy that snatched her and I want a finder's fee or something." Dean explained dryly.

"Finder's fee?" You repeated with an unamused expression, but Dean just smirked at you tauntingly.

"It's too risky," Sam responded.

"Riskier without me." Dean agreed.

"Not gonna happen, Dean. There's photos of you on social media in the background with celebrities. All it takes is for Ketch to recognize you and we're busted."

"Dude, if he hasn't spotted the sore thumb by now," Dean pointed at you and you scowled back at him. "I doubt he's gonna pick me outta the crowd, especially since it's usually just my hand or a butt cheek."

"Not happening and I'm not talking about this anymore," Sam ordered, metaphorically putting his foot down. "I'm in charge of this operation. What I say goes, Dean, and so help me if you get in the way I'll have you detained."

"Whatever, I need a drink." Dean grumbled stubbornly.

He made his way into the kitchen and went through the cupboards until he found a bottle of whiskey. He poured himself two fingers and downed the glass, making an annoying hiss as it burned his throat. You were sure this was far from over between the two of them. You figured he was probably used to calling the shots with his little brother and in the end, he was gonna do whatever the hell he wanted; so there was no use to continuing arguing about it.

It was as if Sam could read your mind, watching you glare at Dean as he poured another glass, sipping from it this time. He patted your knee, gaining your attention and smiled at you. His hazel eyes were soft and affectionate and you wondered how this guy could ever be related to a hard-ass like Dean. Hell, why was Dean even still on your mind when Sam was so close with his hand still on your knee.

You let out a breath and returned the smile, sliding your hand over his and entwining your fingers. You didn't know why you did it, maybe you just needed a little comfort, some reassurance that only came from the touch of another human being. Something that you obviously weren't going to get from Dean again anytime soon and it didn't seem to bother Sam, he even gave you a light squeeze of his hand in return. You didn't expect to feel any sort of closeness to the man who'd drugged and kidnapped you, but somehow he was easier to connect with than Dean. Ultimately, he needed you to catch this guy and you needed him to get your life back.

"Getting a little chummy with your mark there, aren't ya, Sammy?" Dean said, eyeing your hands together when he returned to lounge on the bottom bunk.

"Back off, Dean. Why are you being such a dick today?" Sam asked, letting go of your hand in a huff.

"Maybe because I've got a client that won't listen to a fucking word I say and a little brother who's enabling her; making my life a hell of a lot more difficult." Dean ranted.

"I'm not your fucking client. I thought we've been through this." You snapped.

"I'm still responsible for you."

"Says who?"

"Me."

"You really are a stubborn pain in my ass." You grumbled, leaning back in your seat and sinking into the couch.

"Because I care?"

"But, do you really?" You snarked, side eyeing him.

"Why wouldn't I?" He frowned as if all your bickering had meant nothing.

"I don't know. Does Dean Winchester, ladies man, even care about anyone? I mean that's why you never had a relationship longer than a week, right?" You speculated, since you had no idea how long his longest relationship was. The look on his face told you, you weren't far off.

"That's different," he uttered.

"I'm sure it is." You scoffed.

"I'm not some monster, Y/N." Dean said and you could see the muscles in his jaw tightening as he glared at you, a quarter tumbler of whiskey in his hand.

"Could've fooled me," you bit back and shrugged.

"Oh sure. Because I've been so cruel to you, doing everything I possibly could to make you comfortable and safe. Yet, you still hate me. Did I drug you? Was I rough with you? No. All I've ever done is protect you even when I didn't need to. I know I could walk away right now- Hell, I could've walked away days ago when you disappeared at that diner, but I didn't. Because on some level I felt guilty, I felt responsible, but not anymore. You wanna risk your life, go ahead. I'm not gonna be your safety net anymore. I don't owe you anything." Dean said, downing the rest of his whiskey in one go and making that hiss sound again.

He set the tumbler down on top of the television and stomped out of the cabin, slamming the door shut behind himself. The wood banged against the frame loudly, making you jump in your seat next to Sam.

There was this longing feeling you had, staring at the door after him. You found yourself hoping that it would open again and he would return. It hurt knowing that Dean was giving up on you, even if that's what you thought you wanted. You couldn't tell left from right when it came to what you were feeling lately, but you refused to think that anything more could develop from the hatred between you two.

"You okay?" Sam asked, pulling your attention away from the door and you gripped at your thighs to settle yourself.

"Mhm. Can I ask you something?" Sam nodded before you continued. "Is he always like this?"

"Uh... Look, Y/N, Dean's always been rough around the edges but he means well. He's just been through a lot this past year."

"He treats me like I'm a child that needs to be told not to touch a hot stove. I'm capable of not dying on my own, you know."

"Don't tell him I told you this, but this time last year, Dean lost a client on the job. It was a freak accident on a ferris wheel after a concert. Some drugs were involved, but he felt like it was his fault and has been blaming himself ever since. Even though she didn't listen to him when he told her to stay within eyesight, and by time he found her it was too late. He was her handler for six months and I always thought they had something more going on, but Dean's only ever denied it." Sam explained, somehow making you feel like a complete jerk for the hassle you'd given him. Maybe that’s why he didn’t do relationships. "My point is, don't hold everything against him. He's just doing what he thinks is right."

"I don't mean to, Sam, I swear. It's just every time I hear his voice- I dunno, I just wanna shut him up.” You fake strangled the air in emphasis, “You know?"

"Mhm, Dean can have that effect on you. Especially when he's in bodyguard mode." Sam chuckled.

"So, he is a bodyguard then?" You teased, your lips tugging up at the corners.

"Uh, yeah, don't tell him I called him that either." Sam smirked sheepishly as if he didn't want to get in trouble.

"Your secret’s safe with me." You crossed your heart and smiled.

_________________________

A/N: Read part 11 here

_________________________ 
 Dean/Jensen: @akshi8278​ @laycblack​ @thoughts-and-funnies​ @mrsjenniferwinchester​ @crustycheeks​ @kazsrm67​ @sexyvixen7​ @lyarr24​ @suckitands33  @eliwinchester99​ @yvonneeeee​ 

Forever SPN: @hobby27​

Don't Say A Word: @lacilou​ @mlovesstories​ @spn730015​ @hunni-bunny​ @ria132love​ @fmstafford  @spideysimpossiblegirl​ @houseforwhores​ @siospins2​ @globetrotter28​ @nt-multi-fandom​ @maggiegirl17​ @iprobablyshipit91​ @tigergirllolipop​ @stoneyggirl2​

[justadestiny2titan]

SUP GAMERS!!! OC TIME!!!!!!

I'm gonna start with my guardians!

So there's Taurus-5, Catherine-1 and Alita-27! (I also have some more but I don't have names for them yet)

Taurus is a titan who was ressed shortly before the whole Moon problem where Crota killed the original raid team. He and Catherine are basically Guardian twins, ressed same day!

Taurus is a thick headed man who is rather book smart, but navigates social situations like a brick. He is incredibly blunt, crass, endearing, and oh so genuine when he talks!

He has a major respect and fascination with the Eliksni of various houses (Winters and Wolves being his favourites!), he would take mercenary bounties here and there for them to learn more about how houses worked, he's even learned how to repair a ketch's engines!

He is absolutely in love with Uluran, he finds their war machines and modem operandi beyond enchanting. He has, on multiple occasions, fought in gladiator arenas just for the chance to talk with even a Val.

We don't talk about what he did to Crota's remaining brood and other hive.

He feels incredible sorrow for the Scorn, but not for the plight of the scorn other than Fikrul, but for the loss of House of Kings cultural practices. He doesn't fully see the scorn as conscious beings, only seeing the larger scorn as conscious and deserving of some respect.

And he doesn't really hold an opinion on the Taken and Vex other than, they're there ig.

Then there's Catherine-1 who was resurrected at the same time as Taurus. She is quite smart and silver tongued, but has a tendency to go too far with either explanations or conversations! And I head canon her as autistic!

She is rather intrigued by the Vex, how they work and operate, and how they intertwine with concepts she's familiar with, such as the Hezen Collective fucking with time (she believes it to be an odd spin on string theory!)

She truely, truely, truely hates Taken, she finds the very concept of the Taken to be very horrifying.

She feels great sympathy for the remaining Eliksni houses, Salvation in particular, she feels like they've been backed into a corner by the Vanguard with no other choice than to join or be destroyed.

And she's incredibly fascinated by the Hive and their magic. She's even managed to cast a few spells before, although weak and basic (though one time she tore the worm from a knight, leaving them alive after the process.)

She has no strong feelings toward Uluran and Scorn.

And finally Alita, she was resurrected a long while after Taurus and Catherine, she was ressed in the ADZ (Asian dead zone), as she was an Exo who managed to survive the collapse before being killed by a Warlord for trying to fight back against him.

She is sunshine and rainbows, not a single coherent thought behind her eyes other than to help people and look cool while doing it.

She loves all the factions in the system, seeing good in all of them (except Taken, she's even less tolerant than Catherine.) She has joined up with at least all the factions at one point or another (including Vex! Don't ask how.)

And she has a cat called Dracula!

[ashes-2-ashes57cba]

The Bad Batch: Specter

Episode 6: Decommissioned

edited by @ryleeeeeenn *kriff: strong expletive warnings: the Martez sisters, the word 'bastard', use of the word 'ass'

Specter winced as Omega let loose another bolt; her arms faltered at the last second causing the shot to stray toward an oncoming patron, effectively scaring her off.

“Sorry!” the girl shouted after her. She pulled back another shot from the energy bow. 

“Steady,” Echo encouraged, kneeling beside her and adjusting her arms. “Arms level… and keep your eye on the target.”

“You can do it, kid!” Bolo encouraged, watching with the rest of the group. 

“Not a chance,” Ketch shook his head. Specter rolled her eyes at the two: they had made a bet on whether or not Omega would ever make a bullseye. Omega grunted and strained,almost fighting with the bow before finally releasing it. 

It hit dead in the center of the bullseye. Everyone cheered as it hit the target, except for Ketch as he paid up Bolo, grumbling about beginner’s luck.

“Good. Again,” Echo instructed.

“But I’ve already hit the target three times,” Omega whined.

“Out of twelve,” he reminded. “That’s luck, Omega, not skill. Soldiers need to be consistent.” Specter couldn’t help but giggle at the girl’s disappointed slouch.

  “You remember when I started out?” she muttered to Hunter, who smiled knowingly.

“Oh yeah. Smallest girl anyone had ever seen, and she insisted on choosing the biggest weapons,” he reminisced with a chuckle.

“Yeah, and then I learned to kick your asses,” she nudged his side. “She’s… getting there,” Specter tilted her head as the girl pulled back another shot. She let loose, but the shot bounced into one of the holo-tables. Bolo and Ketch cackled.

“I was doing better until those two showed up,” Omega grumbled.

“Just imagine their faces on the target,” Specter encouraged. Wrecker laughed as the two quieted down and shuffled a few feet away. 

“You have to learn to tune out distractions, which comes with practice.” Echo put a hand on Omega’s shoulder. “Again.” Omega sighed and turned to the target again, drawing back and releasing a bolt, missing the target by a foot at least.

“Not exactly a natural, is she?” Wrecker whispered. Hunter and Specter shrugged in agreement.

“Wha– Hey!” Wrecker bellowed, turning abruptly as Cid slapped his shoulder and appeared next to the group. 

“Okay, playtime’s over,” she interrupted, pushing her way through the group. “We need to talk. You two, scram.” She shooed Bolo and Ketch away.

“I don’t like her very much,” Wrecker grumbled. If Cid had heard him, she didn’t humor him with a reaction. The woman stood eyeing Bolo and Ketch. 

“Okay! We’re going. We’re going!”

Cid sneered at the pair and watched them leave, waiting until they were out of the room to finally address the gathered Bad Batch.

“I’m assuming you boys know what a tactical droid is?” The group nodded. “They were the opera-”

“The operational brains of the Separatist military-” Tech seemed to nearly pounce on the opportunity to show off his knowledge. 

“Ba-ba-ba-ba-ba,” Cid interrupted, having none of it,  “This is my briefing, Goggles.” Tech seemed to deflate for a moment before regaining his composure. Cid shoved Wrecker off the holo-table, turning it on. “Tactical droid intel has tremendous value, which is why you’re gonna break into this decommissioning facility on Corellia and retrieve one before they’re all destroyed,” Cid explained, pulling up the image of a tactical droid as well as the facility she spoke of. Specter was caught off guard by such a big task, looking at Hunter for his response. He met her eyes, calculating their next move.

Choose your words carefully, Sarge.

“We haven’t decided if we’re gonna work for you or not,” he said. 

“Allow me to decide for you,” Cid shut down the holo, “you’re in!” Hunter was taken aback by her response, his eyes flickered once again to Specter, who gave a reassuring shrug. “I’m talking a mutually beneficial arrangement. You make money, I make money, and I watch your back. With the heat on you, it’s the best option you’ve got.” Hunter and Specter shared an apprehensive look, silently weighing their options. 

“I guess we’re in,” Hunter sighed.

“I know you’re in. I just told you you’re in. And you,” Cid went to Omega, grabbing the energy-bow from her, “you’re releasing too soon because of those weak noodle arms. Build up your strength.” The Trandoshan released three shots in a row, hitting the bullseye each time. Omega stared in awe. “Lesson over.”

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

Traveling from the obscurity and alleged safety of the Mid Rim into the Core Worlds held more dangers than Specter found she was comfortable with, especially with Omega in tow. Even so, a job was a job; and with Cid’s protection, while she wasn’t sure it would be worth much, was better than facing the Empire alone. She chewed on her nails as the Marauder grew closer and closer to Corelia. Tech and Echo piloted the ship, discussing their plans to evade the sensors on the surface of the planet. 

“That old trick?” Echo said incredulously, his brow furrowed. 

“It’s worked for us every time,” Tech insisted. 

“Yeah, but that was against the Separatists. Won’t the Empire see it coming?”

“Not if they don’t know where to look,” Tech said, piloting the ship out of hyperspace just in time to intercept the path of an incoming cargo ship. 

“I don’t know, I’ve got a bad feeling about this,” Echo muttered. 

“Well, we’ve made it this far,” Wrecker interjected with a chuckle. With that, Tech powered down the ship, allowing it to drift close enough to the cargo freighter to magnetize to the hull. If all went according to the plan, their ship would blend with the freighter, and they would make it to the surface without being detected. 

“Why is a tactical droid more important than the other droids?” Omega asked Echo, looking at the holo of one. He turned his attention to her. 

“The more tactical droids fought, the more they learned… and won,” he explained.

“Yeah, except against us,” Wrecker cheered.

“That’s because our battle strategy consisted less of ‘strategy’ and more of just ‘battle’,” Specter added.

“With clones now serving the Empire, knowing how to defeat them just went up in value,” Tech added. 

“We’re approaching the decommissioning site,” Echo announced, his gaze turning back to the control panel. “We can land at the industrial dockyard and go in on foot.” Specter held on as they detached and flew down to an empty lot. She readied her gear, putting on her helmet, grabbing her weapons, and preparing to exit the ship. They all carefully followed Hunter through the industrial campus to the decommissioning factory.

“Cid didn’t mention this place was guarded by police droids,” Hunter muttered as a patrolling pair walked past.

“They’re operating on a rotating quadrant scan. If timed correctly, there should be an entry point in their blind spot,” Tech reported, scanning the droids and looking around. A short and sharp whistle sounded, catching the team’s attention; Specter had already snuck away, and was waiting by an escape ladder on the side of the building, outside of the droids’ detection.

“Found the blind spot,” she teased, leaning up against the rungs and watching as the rest of them made their way over. 

“Woah! I wish I could be sneaky like that,” Omega whispered in wonder. 

“Well, you’re halfway there. Keep up with your training and with time, you’ll be able to sneak up on me,” Specter said, ruffling the girl’s hair. “For now, though, we need to get up that platform,” she stepped aside so the others could climb up to the platform at the top.

Wrecker gulped nervously, shifting his feet as he stared at the distance up the ladder. Hunter rushed ahead of them and up the ladder, with Tech and Echo close behind. Wrecker was next, but he hesitated on the first rung and stepped back. 

“Y-you two go first,” he offered to Specter and Omega. Omega started up the ladder, but Specter paused, patting Wrecker’s shoulder in encouragement. 

“I’ll be right behind you, big guy. Go on up.” With a groan, Wrecker started up the ladder with Specter close behind, quietly cheering him on. They may have been a wildly successful unit, but that didn’t mean The Bad Batch was without fear or flaw. Wrecker’s fear of heights was one of the few hangups the group faced regularly on missions. Specter was proud of him for facing it head-on and pushing through to complete the mission. She couldn't help it, but she found herself thinking of Crosshair. Though her brother never admitted it, Specter knew he was scared of being alone. Isolation bothered him more than anything they’d ever faced in war. Her mind drifted back to one particular evening when he’d quietly asked her for comfort. He rarely spoke in those moments, and he never told her exactly what was bothering him, but her brother would sit with his head on her shoulder, her arms around him, in a comfortable silence they shared as twins.

“I’m fine, I promise.”

“Well, I don’t believe you.”

“You’re annoying.”

“I’m your sister”

“...” 

“...”

“And you won’t leave me, right?”

“Of course not… Hey, remember what I always tell you?”

“Not really. Whatever it is, it’s just as annoying as everything else you say.”

“Well, annoying or not, remember that I’m always with you. We’re twins, and that means no matter how far apart we are, neither of us will ever be alone. No matter what happens.”

Bastard. 

As usual, she brushed it off. They made it inside the building, apparently still undetected. Wrecker collected himself in time to swiftly silence a worker who had the unfortunate chance of running across the Batch in the hallway.

“Nighty-night,” he whispered into the worker’s ear as they fell unconscious. Specter almost felt bad for wanting to laugh. They continued onward to the gangways that criss-crossed above the factory floor, crouching low and out of sight, peering at the dismantled droids that passed.

During the war, Specter fantasized about their victory over the droids, but seeing them decommissioned like this was not as satisfying as she had thought, and the Empire was not the victorious outcome she had in mind.

“Echo, Tech,” Hunter started the orders, “we’ll locate and retrieve the droid. Spec, Wrecker, cover us up top.” Wrecker groaned in complaint.

“But being lookout was Crosshair’s job,” he whined.

“Well someone has to pick up the slack, Wrecker, because in case you haven’t noticed, Crosshair isn’t here,” Specter snapped, still reeling from her memory of her twin. A moment of silence passed as her words sank in; regret crept in, Specter hadn’t intended to lash out and was already reminding herself to apologize for it later.

“What about me? What should I do?” Omega asked.

“Stay here and keep your eyes peeled for the target,” Hunter instructed. “Let’s move.” The team split up from there; Hunter, Echo, and Tech headed down to the main console while Wrecker and Specter went even higher, taking lookout positions. Specter effortlessly blended with the shadows around her, trying to keep an eye out for any threats, or at least anything out of the ordinary.

“A tactical droid is listed in the system, but only one,” Echo’s voice came in over the comm, “the rest have already been destroyed.”

“We have one shot at this. Let’s get it right,” said Hunter.

“Where was the droid offloaded?” Tech asked Echo.

“North end conveyor,” he answered. Specter followed the maze of tracks and conveyors, searching for the droid..

“Found it! Sort of…” Omega grimaced, looking through her binocs, “It’s already in pieces.” Specter tracked Omega’s line of sight, using her scope to locate what remained of their target.  

“Is the head still intact?” asked Tech.

“Affirmative,” the girl answered. Specter flinched as something passed through her scope.

“Someone just ran off with the droid head,” she reported urgently, trying to track the suspect.

“I see ‘em. One of the workers is stealing our target,” said Wrecker.

“I’m on it,” Omega’s voice chimed through.

“Negative. Stay out of sight,” Hunter stopped the girl.

“Bogey with the droid head closing in on your position, Sarge,” Specter mumbled, watching the target rush around the facility through her rifle scope. 

“Stay back!” Omega shouted, sending a shiver of worry down Specter’s spine as she looked back to the girl’s position. There she was, face to face with another worker, her bow shakily drawn and casting a dim violet glow between her and the intruder.

“Woah, woah. Take it easy, kid," the "worker" lifted up her mask to reveal her face, holding up her hands, bearing no ill will. “I don’t wanna hurt you, but I can’t have you getting in the way.” Omega’s grip tightened on her bow, causing the woman to step back, straight into Specter, who had appeared behind the pair with her pistol drawn and held to the intruder’s head. 

“I can hurt you instead,” she snarled into the woman’s ear, cocking her gun for emphasis. 

“Okay, let’s calm down, creepy lady!” 

“Rafa, I’ve got the target. Where are you?” a voice came in through the woman’s—Rafa’s, as she was called—comm.

“Don’t answer that,” Omega threatened, readjusting her grip on her bow.

Specter’s pistol rested against Rafa’s temple, keeping her compliant for the time being. “Your hands look a little shaky there,” Rafa started, noticing the nervous look on Omega’s face, “Be careful, you don’t want to hurt your friend here,” she nodded back towards Specter, who pressed her pistol harder into the woman's head.

Omega stood fast, but Rafa wasn’t wrong, the girl’s hands were shaking. Her brow furrowed in concentration. She strained against the bow, and it was in that moment of weakness the girl lost control of the weapon, sending a stray shot ricocheting through the facility until it ultimately blasted through the side of the building, causing pressurized air to leak in with a loud hiss. The air blasted inside with a force that blinded Specter just long enough for Rafa to swat her pistol out of her hand and to its doom on the conveyor and wrestle with Omega’s bow. Specter lunged blindly, tackling Rafa and pulling her back into a debilitating headlock. 

“Now you’ve done it,” she growled through gritted teeth, “No one threatens my kid,” her grip tightened, “and I really liked that pistol.”

Before Specter could tighten her grip, the security alarms began to blare. She watched as every exit was blocked by police droids as the workers shouted and clamored amongst themselves. The facility was locked down. Specter swore under her breath and bit her tongue. She shoved Rafa away and immediately readied her blaster. 

“Try something stupid, I dare you,” she snarled and pointed the gun at Rafa. 

“Jeez, alright, lady! Hey, don’t just stand there, kid. Grab a weapon,” she said, dusting herself off and grabbing her own pistol.

“I had one,” Omega grumbled. 

“Just stay down, hun,” Specter advised, taking aim. Blaster-fire struck down the droids closest to them, coming from Wrecker at his post.

“Get moving!” he shouted. Specter started laying down fire as well, too occupied to notice Rafa slipping away. Omega caught her, however, and went to give chase. 

“Omega, report,” Hunter came in over the comm.

“The accomplice is getting away, but don’t worry. I’m in pursuit,” she said. Specter whirled around, finding that Rafa and Omega weren’t behind her anymore.

Kriff.

“Sarge, I swear she was right behind me,” she said, panicking. 

“Stay put, Omega. We already have the droid head,” he ordered. “Spec, get us a buffer with these droids.” She set to work on destroying as many droids as she could so that Echo and Tech might be able to do what they needed to lift the lockdown. She changed her rifle configuration into her shotgun, loading the cartridges and taking careful aim. She fired, sending a spray of plasma-powered pellets, hitting a few droids but most importantly, destroying the integrity of the platform the police droids poured out from, cutting off their access point. A shot came from behind, narrowly missing her head; Specter whirled around, changing her blaster again in a mere second, and fired. 

“Boys, how’s that lockdown looking?” she asked, moving to a different position. 

“Nice of you to join us, Specter,” Tech replied. “Wrecker just got the system online. Now, both of you get down here.” 

“Copy that,” she replied. 

“Specter, I need cover. Omega’s stuck on the conveyor,” Hunter’s request came in urgently. She skidded to a stop in her tracks, changing course yet again, avoiding the platforms that Hunter had managed to take down.

“Busy. So very busy,” she muttered, taking a position to provide cover fire for the sergeant and avoid blasts from the police droids. Hunter and Rafa made their way across the conveyor towards Omega, trying to dodge the droids’ attack. Specter shot those ones down, clearing their path and any other droids that approached. Hunter gave her a salute and went to help Omega. Specter continued on her route to regroup with Tech and Echo, blasting down droids that were firing at them. “Guys, I’m not having a good time.”

“Welcome to the club,” Echo retorted. “Where’s Wrecker?”

“I thought he’d be with you by now,” she replied, taking cover beside them. 

“Wrecker, come in. Wrecker?” Tech tried over comms, but no response came. Hunter, Omega, Rafa and her counterpart—Trace— joined them in the meantime. 

“All the exits are blocked,” Hunter reported.

“And it’s about to get worse. A larger wave of police droids is headed our way,” Echo added, still plugged into the system, before crouching by Omega and Trace, who was working to reactivate and reprogram the droid head.

“I don’t think whatever you’re planning is going to work,” Specter grumbled. 

“It will! We just need more time,” Trace insisted. 

“Well, time is the one thing we don’t have,” Specter replied. The droid gave an error code, and another volley of heavy blaster fire drew her out of the conversation. 

“Wrecker, do you copy? Get down here now!” Specter shouted, simultaneously shooting at the approaching droids. “You better be dead or else I’m going to kill you myself.”

“Wrecker, where are you?” Omega tried, “We need your help.”

“On my way,” he finally responded, winded.

“Oh, so you listen to her and not me?” Specter quipped, trying to lessen her growing anxiety. She grimaced as another group of droids drew near, firing relentlessly at the group.

Specter hadn't felt a rush like this since their battles in the war, which now felt like ages ago. In the chaos, she found a strange sense of control; with that peace, she had the strength to keep fighting. Her heart raced, and she savored the power and adrenaline that rushed through her veins. The world around her seemed to have slowed. She laid heavy fire on each coming wave of droids, never pausing to see how many she had brought down, taking rare moments to catch her breath. It was here, with her brothers, on the battlefield, that she felt she truly belonged.

She was quickly startled from her battle-induced state as Wrecker barreled into the scene with a scream, landing on and crushing a droid while firing upon and neutralizing a group of them.  

“Well, finally!” she sneered, “Look who decides to show up.”

“Yeah! I got tired of you guys having all the fun,” he said.

“Now, him I like,” Rafa muttered to Hunter, who nodded in agreement. The brute fired, taking a downed droid as a shield for himself before he was ultimately knocked back, forcing him to take cover. 

Gritting her teeth, Specter prepared for another volley of fire. 

It never came, as suddenly the droids on the conveyor were resurrected, stumbling about their new surroundings. 

“I got it!” Trace shouted. Specter glanced back in confusion, hearing the tactical droid faintly give a command sequence. She tensed, readying herself for the battle droids’ attack, but it didn’t come. Instead, the reanimated droids began to open fire on the security droids, providing the group cover and a route for their escape. 

“Okay, this is… not the strangest thing I’ve experienced, but it makes the list,” Specter mused aloud. 

“Never thought I’d see battle droids helping us,” Echo agreed. 

“That’s our cue,” Hunter said when the opportunity came. “Move out!”

“Roger, roger,” Specter teased, running past and leading the group out of the building. 

“R7, we’re ready for a pickup,” Trace said into her comm. Police droids still approached to defend the factory, and while a few battle droids defended their back, heavy fire came at their front. “We’re almost there. Trust me, you’ll see us,” she assured Omega, who had recovered her bow and ran beside her. That was until a lucky shot blew the tactical droid’s head out of her hands. Omega covered Trace, knocking down a few droids as she did her best to recover the helmet, but it was no use. Another lucky shot rendered the tactical droid destroyed. 

“No!” Trace groaned, “but that was a nice shot,” she completed, ducking behind the girl.  

“It’s all about tuning out distractions,” Omega replied with newfound confidence, breaking with pride. 

A ship landed a short distance away, with only a few more droids between it and the group. 

“That's your ride, Martez?” Specter turned and asked Rafa.

“Yup! He’s here, let’s go!” she announced to the group. They all advanced, running past the police droids into the ship and leaving them at the mercy of their old enemy. 

Specter ran straight to the cockpit and entered the coordinates of the Marauder. Rafa was close behind, watching as Specter navigated the atmosphere of the planet. Rafa patted her on the shoulder and turned to meet the others in the main hold of the ship. 

“All that work for nothing,” Rafa sighed, slouching in disappointment. 

“Whoever Cid’s buyer is isn’t gonna be happy,” Omega said nervously.

“Let me get this straight. You knew how dangerous the information on the tactical droid is, but you didn’t know who you were giving it to?” Rafa said incredulously.

“We’re being paid to acquire and deliver, not ask questions,” Hunter grumbled.

“If we’re going to get paid at all,” Specter interjected from the cockpit, crossing her arms. They all turned to look at her with nervous expressions, Hunter especially. “What? I’m not the only one who thinks that, and she is definitely shady,” she reasoned, holding her hands up. 

“Our contact needed that information to fight back against the Empire,” Trace continued. “They’re trying to help people and make things better.”

“Why aren’t you fighting for the Empire? Isn’t that what you clones do now?” Rafa asked, pointing her gaze at Hunter. He sighed, thinking of an answer.

“Not all of us. We’re different,” he explained.

“Yeah, I’ve heard that before,” Rafa scoffed before turning back towards the cockpit.

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

Finally, the ship landed, although Specter wasn’t too thrilled about returning to Ord Mantell empty-handed; they needed the credits, and having her morals questioned was not on her list. Yet, she smiled as she stood by Hunter and watched Rafa and Trace kneel down to say their goodbyes to Omega.

“You should come visit us sometime,” the girl offered.

“Isn’t that part of Ord Mantell a little… seedy?” Trace asked, apprehensive but still smiling. Omega leaned close, as though she were whispering.

“Very. It’s great!” Specter chuckled at Omega’s spirit.

“Keep working on that bow, kid,” Rafa encouraged, standing up with her sister. 

“I will,” Omega nodded, “Bye!” Specter began to lead her away to join the others.

“Bye, Omega,” Trace replied. 

“Hey, creepy lady!” Rafa called out. Specter turned with a smirk. “If we ever run into each other again, I’ll replace that pistol of yours.”

“I’ll hold you to it, Martez,” Specter winked, following Omega once more. “That was certainly exciting,” she commented.

“It was!” Omega giggled, stepping into the Marauder before stopping. “They said they were going to fight against the Empire… is that what we’re doing?”

The blood rushed from Specter’s face before she responded, “There’s only so much we can do, hun. What matters right now is keeping all of us—especially you—safe. We can deal with the Empire later.”

“But why can't we fight now?” the girl inquired. 

“Because it's six of us against an entire galaxy,” Hunter chimed in, placing a reassuring hand on Omega’s shoulder. “A good soldier knows how to pick their battles, and how to win.” 

Specter smiled at the girl’s compassionate heart. Right now, they were alone in a hostile galaxy, but in a glimmer of hope, she wondered just how many others waited in the shadows for the opportunity to strike… and if their motley crew would join in the fight.  

Since I didn't include it in the piece, I can tell you that Specter would have laughed so hard at the "is there an echo in here?/yes/huh?/I'm Echo" bit

[thecasualronin]

The Age of Monsters: Case File New York, 1957

"What the cumulative effects of all these atomic explosions will be, only time will tell."

~ Thomas Nesbitt

It was only a few short weeks after the JSDF successfully buried Monster 01 under an avalanche of ice and snow at Kamiko Island, just north of Hokkaido, that atomic tests would continue to be conducted by the world superpowers. Far up in the Arctic, Operation Experiment would go off, and end up setting free a giant theropod 60 meters from nose to tail tip that had been hibernating there lord knows how long. Upon it's freedom, it would devour all but one of the research team, leaving physicist Thomas Nesbitt as the sole witness of the great beast. 

Over the following weeks, he would try to warn others as he recovered, but most would just call it a delusion. It isn't until after fishing ketch's go missing off of Grand Banks and Marquette, and then a lighthouse being destroyed mysteriously in the night that Nesbitt's story would gain the attention of the Dr. Thurgood Elson and his assistant Lee Hunter. After both Nesbitt and one of the surviving fisherman both individually describe the creature in the same detail, Elson concludes that this is a newly discovered species of dinosaur, dubbing it Gorosaurus Elsoni.

Dr. Elson would take a diving bell down to the Hudson Canyon and attempt to view the creature for himself, only to be another victim devoured by it. Gorosaurus would eventually come ashore in Manhattan, claiming the lives of 180 people during the initial rampage.

Eventually, the US Military with the aid of single tank, would score a direct, albeit not fatal, hit on the dinosaur, forcing Gorosaurus to retreat further into the city and disappear. As the soldiers continued to hunt it down following the blood trail, they all started to fall ill, one by one. An ancient pathogen was in the theropod's blood. A new strategy would be needed to take down the beast as well as the disease it contained.

Dr. Nesbitt would approach Col. Evans about using a radioactive isotope to kill the creature and the virus in one fell swoop. Dressed in protective gear, Nesbitt and Evans, armed with a rocket grenade loaded with the isotope along with a platoon of soldiers, would pick up the search following the blood trail to burrow underneath the Chrysler building. Flares were used to lure the beast out into the open. Once the wound was visible, Evans took the shot. Gorosaurus would writhe in pain at the base of the skyscraper, collapsing to the ground. It's movements would finally stop as its body succumbed to the radiation poisoning. Monster 04 had been eliminated.

But as we know today, Gorosaurus is but one of many that would continue to pop up ever so often.

Credits

Gorosaurus - MMDCharizard and Casey42

Manhattan 1950s and Main Battle Tank 1955 - Tansoku102cm

Sky Dome - MrWhiteFolks

Effects

AutoLuminous

Excellent Shadow

Diffusion

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

If you made it down this far and have been paying attention to the Age of Monsters project, this is the first major lore change from standard Toho lore. I wanted to pay tribute to "The Beast From 20,000 Fathoms" only with Gorosaurus in the role of the Rhedosaurus (mainly to keep with using only Toho kaiju for this project). Also, this helps with expanding the more global nature of this project, so expect to see more changes like this to become a more original timeline.

[mlobsters]

supernatural s13e17 the thing (w. davy perez)

i'm just hoping for a middling episode at this point. if i had to point to one plot thing that opened the door to so much of the nonsense of later seasons, it's the whole men of letters concept. like a neverending excuse to make up new magic, monsters, good guys, bad guys. i like that it gave them a home, but i really don't enjoy that set. it's so sterile and meh. wish they had a crusty weird house packed with shit, like bobby's place. anyway. long held irritation over mol. and the british men of letters storyline is like all those things i hate x1000. i see how they're kind of working ketch like crowley, what side is he working for, loyal to himself in the end, etc. but i just can't give a flying fuck about ketch because of the infuriating b!mol arc. and mark sheppard had years to work into that role and for them to develop it. meh!

tentacle monster coming through the nexus with the beautiful young flapper lady is chained to the table...... ok....

also where did those randos get archangel grace in the 20s

dean, come collect your man, he's drooling on the books again.

by collect, i did not mean put "kick me" sticky notes on him -_-

well that little research montage sequence was cute. is the "jinkies" thing to tease sam about velma kissing him? or just general acknowledgement that the scooby episode did actually happen -_-

spn s13e17 key to chapterhouse / hannibal s3e6 reunited in the uffizi / the magicians s3e5 key to fillory clock door

so two things that jumped out at me about this scene. first, it just had a little more atmosphere and pretty for pretty's sake with the crumbled leaves falling through the shaft of light - which all kind of hit the magicians buttons for me. and secondly, the music... (this is a lennertz episode) it has brief shades of bloodfest (the music used in That Scene in hannibal s2e13 mizumono and kind of became will and hannibal's big emotion music) which automatically makes the spn music hit all sorts of emotional buttons that it didn't earn. now i think they've used that sound before, but combined with the scene and the atmosphere which is so often lacking in the later seasons, it really hit for me. (totally cried just getting that small clip from hannibal with the music, think bryan fuller said something about this piece of music resonates at the frequency of his tear ducts)

i have posted a lot about the musical score in hannibal - here's my masterpost :S ok one more thing about that piece, an essay by kate schau talking about brian reitzell's score in hannibal:

In a 2014 interview with Vulture, Reitzell describes it as “musically, probably the crown jewel of the whole season.” While most of Reitzell’s work for the score is predominantly sparse and percussive, “Bloodfest” adopts a more tonal, texturally dense approach. As a nod to The Silence of the Lambs’ association of Bach’s Goldberg Variations with Hannibal the Cannibal’s violent impulses, “Bloodfest” takes its well-known opening aria and slows it down by a factor of twenty; here it also undergoes pervasive electronic distortion. The resulting work is beautiful, haunting, and utterly essential to the atmosphere of the scene. The syrupy-slow melody of the aria gives it the trancelike quality of meditation, but none of the objectivity; like a premonition of heartbreak, it seems to operate in a temporally detached space of reminiscence where emotion is both immediate and far away.

i often bemoan the show that could have been with a different composer at the helm, but will add to the list if they could have kept the look and feel dark gritty messy aesthetics of the early seasons. so much of the later seasons is just too bright, too saturated, too sterile. sucks the vibes right out. it's sad.

um ok. asmodeus is juicin with archangel grace.

i mean just. we're really going with hentai tentacles

i don't care how many times they do it, i love it every time. never gets old

ok. tentacle monster is a god, sure

SAM Dean. OPHELIA If she fed on him, he would be here.

SAM So what, then? MARCO It’s like we said, if she’s not feeding, she’s breeding.

so ketch is gonna bring gabriel to the boys, how convenient

sigh ok. better than a woman in possibly-sexual-peril i guess

DEAN Oh my God. That's tragic. It's like a Hallmark movie. But with tentacles.

good one, dean-o

YOKOTH I like you, Dean. You’re strong. And I enjoy looking at your face.

it's a good face, can't argue with that

SAM So, that’s why we came. I mean we--we--we--need the Seal to get our family back. DEAN If it could take us somewhere other than, uh, tentacle porn land -- not that there’s anything wrong with that.

being that sam outed your "animated japanese erotica" hobby to jody in 12x06, we know, dean. we know

(this is my periodic attempt to remember where cas is and failing. why)

KETCH Was working for. But when he finds out that I stole his prize milk cow, well, I imagine he will hunt me to the ends of the earth. So...this is the only safe place I know. SAM What? Do you think you’re gonna just move in? KETCH Dibs on the top bunk? SAM No. DEAN (speaking at the same time as Sam) Deal. SAM What? DEAN I don’t know what the hell’s going on here. But if this helps us get Mom back, helps us get Jack back, then...sure. Whatever you want.

okie dokie. also convenient taking the moral quandary of extracting more of gabriel's grace for the spell, ketch just had it bottled up from asmodeus's stash

SAM Fine? So you want Ketch to go and not me? DEAN I don’t care if he dies. Hell, I’m kinda rooting for it. SAM Still, you can’t -- DEAN No, I have to. It takes something that’s been over there to open up the right door, so that’s either you or me. So I’m gonna go. And if something happens to me, if -- if-- if time runs out, then I need you to come and save me, and save Mom, and save whoever else, okay? SAM It’s safer if we go together. DEAN Oh, there’s no such thing as safer over there. You know that. I know you don’t like this, okay? I don’t expect you to. This is the way it’s gonna be.

sammy gettin a little jealous there. railroading sam on a decision like this feels like poking the bear. poking that giant little brother you don't get to make decisions for me bear. but i do at least appreciate that dean actually explains that a) he would worry about sam dying, unlike ketch and b) that sam can come save him if it goes sideways if they're not both there. script had dean saying please. guess they decided no please was necessary

sam looking sad/resigned, dean looking determined, gabriel suffering in the background

i asked for middling, i think that mostly qualified

[dailyunsolvedmysteries]

Ben Smart and Olivia Hope: New Year’s Murders

Ben Smart and Olivia Hope, two young New Zealanders, disappeared in the early hours of the morning on New Year's Day, 1 January 1998. The two friends had been celebrating on New Year's Eve at Furneaux Lodge in the Marlborough Sounds with 1500–2000 other partygoers.  

 Hope had travelled to the lodge with a group on a chartered yacht, Tamarack, while Smart had arrived separately. At about 4:00 a.m., lodge bartender Guy Wallace drove Hope and Smart in his water taxi to Tamarack, where the pair intended to sleep. When Hope and Smart found there were no vacant berths remaining aboard Tamarack, they re-boarded Wallace's water-taxi. At the time, Wallace had three other passengers on board: Hayden Morresey, Sarah Dyer, and a single man who would become crucial to the police investigation. The single man offered the pair a place to sleep on what he said was his yacht. Wallace let Smart and Hope off with the single man at the yacht, and then dropped off the two other passengers at their bach. This was the last time Smart and Hope were seen alive.

Ben Smart and Olivia Hope were reported missing on 2 January 1998. Initially the Blenheim police treated the investigation as a missing-persons case, but it soon became apparent that the disappearance was suspicious and out of character for the duo. The investigation was named "Operation TAM" (short for Tamarack) and generated widespread interest from the public and media. The investigation was large in scope, featuring requests for information from the public, significant amounts of interviews across the country and months of extensive searches of the waters surrounding the Endeavour Inlet. Despite this, no bodies were ever found. 

With little to go on, police began trying to determine the identity of the unknown or 'mystery' man that offered Ben and Olivia a place to sleep on his boat. Police claimed that there were a number of descriptions of Scott Watson earlier in the night that were similar to descriptions of the unknown man. These descriptions depicted Watson as having a scruffy look that night, saying he had wavy hair, and needed a shave/haircut. However, a photograph of Watson, taken on the Mina Cornelia yacht where he partied before heading to Furneaux Lodge, shows him clean-shaven with short hair. ]Police quickly focused their investigation on Watson. Later in the investigation, Pope would say that Watson "stood out like dog's balls" and "had the right sort of agenda and pedigree", apparently referring to his criminal record. Watson had 48 criminal convictions at the time, mainly from when he was a teenager for burglary, theft, cannabis offences, two counts of possessing an offensive weapon and one for assault when he was 16. He had been imprisoned for two short periods in 1989 and 1990. Watson had seemingly reformed in his twenties, having just one conviction in the eight years leading up to 1998.

Water taxi driver Guy Wallace told police and the media that he had dropped Smart and Hope off at wooden ketch with two masts. He described the ketch as well-maintained, built of timber, with a thick blue stripe on the hull, and several round portholes with brass surrounds. Watson's boat, Blade, was very different to the one Wallace described; it was a 26 feet long, steel sloop with one mast, no portholes and did not have a blue strip. Witness to these events, Hayden Morresey, told the court that the boat he saw Olivia and Ben get on to with the unidentified man was not Watson's sloop, Blade. Police analysed thousands of photos taken on New Year's Eve and interviewed all of the boat skippers there but were unable to corroborate Wallace's reports of a ketch in the Endeavour Inlet that night. 

At the trial, the Crown also claimed that Police eliminated every one of the other 176 yachts identified in the vicinity at the time as the vessel which the two victims boarded after being dropped off by Guy Wallace's water taxi. Detective Pope stated that the police were fairly certain the ketch did not exist. However, a number of witnesses who came forward with sightings of a two masted ketch said their statements were not followed up or were told their information was not wanted. Former detective Mike Chappell, who worked on the case, later claimed officers were told not to follow up sightings of two-masted ketches. 

Despite the initial publicity and search for a two masted ketch, the police seized Watson's comparatively small sloop, Blade, and from then on focussed their investigation on him. Writing in North & South, investigative reporter Mike White said: "A public demonisation of Watson began, with police often doing little to stop rumours about him that began swirling". Rumours about the Watson family began to swirl in the small town of Picton, as well as in national media. Police obtained warrants to tap the phone lines of Watson and his associates from February until his arrest, an investigation known as "Operation Celt". Police recorded 70-plus hours of Watson's phone conversations and persuaded his former girlfriend to ask him potentially incriminating questions. At his trial, the jury heard 40 minutes of edited conversations. Watson was described by a police representative as "smug" during these conversations, but never said anything to indicate he was involved.

 Later, Watson would accuse police of influencing media coverage of the case suggesting he was guilty; he said the police followed and intimidated members of his family and alleged he had had an incestuous relationship with his sister. Gerald Hope, Olivia's father, has also asserted that the police deliberately leaked details of Watson's criminal history and were responsible for the unsubstantiated suggestions of incest. 

Guy Wallace also said he felt tremendous pressure from police and the media. He was interrogated by the detectives from Christchurch CIB who suggested he was somehow responsible for the disappearance of Hope and Smart. As a result of accusations against him by the police, some locals began treating him with suspicion. People he knew began to think he was guilty and shunned him. He said that in the initial stages of the investigation, the police were desperate to arrest someone, and it could easily have been him: "I know in my heart of hearts, if he [Scott] wasn't in there, I'd be doing time. It's just that simple." When the police turned their focus on to Watson, they showed him Scott Watson's photo at least three times. Each time he said Watson was not the mystery man he had served drinks to at Furneaux Lodge. In 2007, Wallace told investigative journalist Mike White: "I feel I've been shafted by the cops. As far as I'm concerned, Scott's innocent, always has been."

In 2015, Wallace told Stuff that for years afterwards, he was haunted by his involvement with the case, and that he felt responsible for sending Watson to prison. He said the case had a "huge impact" on his life. In March 2021, he died in a suspected suicide.

]On 20 April 1998, Wallace was shown a photo montage containing eight different shots. In one of these shots, Scott had his eyes half closed in the middle of blinking. The unidentified man on the water taxi had been described as having 'hooded eyes'. Based on this "blink" photograph, Wallace picked Watson as the single man on the water taxi. So did Roz McNeilly, the bar manager who had served drinks to the unknown man at Furneaux Lodge. Neither Wallace or McNeilly were shown the photograph of Scott Watson, taken on the Mina Cornelia yacht which shows him clean-shaven with short hair. Based on these identifications, Watson was arrested for the murders in the early hours of 15 June 1998, about five months after the pair were reported missing. Subsequently, both Wallace and McNeilly recanted and stated the police deceived them with the blink photo

Watson was convicted of the murders in September 1999 after an eleven-week trial and sentenced to life imprisonment with a minimum non-parole period of seventeen years. Watson told the jury "You're wrong" when the verdict was read out in court. In 2015 he said he never met Ben or Olivia and has continued to insist he is innocent since conviction.

[nerdlifecentralsblog]

Unknown Secrets [3] - repost

Summary: Y/n joins the hunt for the mysterious nephidemon, but she finds out some shocking information that brings them closer to saving this town from the clutches of Asmodeus’ child.

Characters: Sam Winchester, Dean Winchester, reader, Gabriel, Castiel, Mick, Ketch, Asmodeus

Pairing: everyone platonic

Genre: Angst, bit of fluff

Word Count: 3,906

Warnings: none :)

A/N: Sorry this took so long, but here it finally is! <3

I pull up next to Baby in front of the small motel. “So we meet again, beautiful.” I say lovingly, patting the roof of Dean’s beloved car. I walk up to room number 63. The six has a loose screw which makes it look more like a nine, so I hope it really is room 63.

My anxiety is quelled when I see Ketch open the door with a wide, relaxed smile. “Hello, darling. I hope you didn’t spend all of last night trying to research just to show off,” he says while giving me a hug and playfully winks, prompting Mick to shake his head from his spot at a small table across from Sam, whose laptop is open and running some sort of crazy code.

"No, not this time. Although I have always been the brains behind the operations when it comes to you two." 

Mick let out a chuckle while Ketch simply rolls his eyes and went to lounge on the couch. Sam then gets up, somewhat awkwardly and offers a quick hug.

"So,” he starts, “me and Dean tried to dig up anything extra we could have skipped over in either demon lore or any offspring they could produce.” I nod for him to continue as he takes a seat and turns his computer towards me. “The only thing that could be a possible lead is the tracking spell Rowena used and there’s been a history of weird weather patterns - especially lightning storms for almost forty years. So that means that either Asmodeus or his child has been here for at least forty years.”

I rest my chin on my hand and think about what could explain this Prince of Hell living in my town for forty years. I mean, how have I never ran into him or seen anything weird even once?

The door opens and in walks Dean with lots of beer and various snacks, along with a pie that I assume to be cherry.

“Alright, what’s the game plan guys? FBI or some basic computer research?” Dean asks, putting away his items and walking over to his bed and plopping down looking at me.

“Sam was just catching us up on the weather stuff y'all found last night.” I respond, noticing Sam’s open laptop. “Although I think it would make the most sense if Asmodeus was here for, let’s say, twenty years, scoping the place out and getting other Hunters to believe that the storms would be normal so no one bats an eye once his child is born, and they could live here for maybe twenty more years, completely undetected.”

After a short pause, Mick speaks up, “It is certainly possible and the most likely lead we have. Why else would he want to risk staying in one area for that long?" 

Sam sighs and nods in agreement and slides his computer to face himself again.

"So, y/n,” Dean starts and I pick my head up and look to him, “has anyone ever seemed off to you or someone you heard of being born thirty to forty years ago?”

I snort a laugh and respond. “You named most of the folks in this town. Most people have grown up here all their lives and don’t really have the desire to move away. Not many long term or consistent visitors either.”

Ketch stands up from the couch and walks over to Mick snatching a notebook sitting next to him. He says, “alright, who could be the most likely candidates for being this monster, y/n?”

I rubbed my eyes and leaned back, trying to narrow down who to say, but all I could see were faces morphing into each other and names swirling through my thoughts. “How should I narrow it down?” I ask with my eyes closed for a moment, opening them only because of the sound of Sam typing on his computer and Ketch speaking.

“Let’s start with anyone especially strange or out of the ordinary, people between thirty and forty who have lived here their whole lives, only children, maybe anyone who doesn’t know their parents or their mother died in birth.”

I take a deep breath and start naming people that fit any or all of the criteria Ketch described while explaining which characteristics they have as Ketch writes the addresses that I can remember and Sam types up the list.

It takes us a few hours of narrowing down and organizing everyone into sizable chunks and who our most likely hidden monster is. Luckily, everyone lived nearby and Dean brought back some good food choices. Well, as good as gas station and tiny grocery store food can get.

“I vote we get a move on with this list and split up a bit to cover more ground.” Ketch suggests.

Sam glances at Dean as he says “Works for me. We going for FBI on this one?”

The group nods as Dean butts in saying, “We’ll go through the people in these neighborhoods,” he waves his hand over the section towards the east, “and you three can take the rest.” He says while pointing at me.

“Alright, let’s get ready and get a move on.” I say, standing up and walking out to grab some gear. I can’t help but think how odd it is that I have grown up with these people and all this time one of them could be such a horrible, dangerous creature. My palms almost itch with the anticipation of making my town, and the world a safer place. But I can’t help but wonder if we’re making the right decision.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Last house will be just to the left of Willow Street.” Mick says from the passenger side, directing Ketch to our final stop before it got too late.

I don’t even know how we’re gonna find this nephidemon at this point. No one we’ve talked to all day has said or remembered anything that would help us remotely. Hopefully Sam and Dean have had some better luck, I think as Ketch pulls up to the curb across from the house.

We all climb out of the car and casually walk up to the front door, Ketch and Mick with their badges and me prepared for the endless complaints this case will earn me from the locals for bringing the feds to their doorsteps. But, if I can possibly help out Mick, Ketch, Cas, and the Winchesters with something like Asmodeus or his freak kids, then it’s worth it. The door opens revealing Fred and his wife, Josie with polite smiles on their faces.

“Hey, Fred and Josie! How have you guys been?” I ask, smiling warmly.

Josie responds for them both. “We’re doing just fine, dear. You should join us for game night next time!” 

I laugh and nod enthusiastically, about to explain and introduce the two "agents” beside me when Fred beats me to it. “Who are your friends? They visitors?” he interjects with slightly narrowed eyes and hands shoved in his pockets.

“Of course, my apologies. These are FBI agents McCullough and Morgan.” They both hold up their badges with calm expressions. “They’re old friends of mine and have been looking for someone they think might have been hanging around here for awhile. I figured you both have excellent memories and I was hoping you wouldn’t mind us taking a few moments of your day to help them find a potential suspect?” I slightly tilt my head and try to look as innocent and eager to help as possible. Fred and Josie have always treated me as one of their own children and I certainly hope Ketch doesn’t offend them in any way.

“It’s no problem at all. Very nice to meet you gentlemen. As y/n stated I am Josie Hutcherson and this is my husband, Fred.” Josie, being the polite and kind person that she is, shook hands with Ketch and Mick, welcoming us all inside.

One nice thing about living in a small town is how nothing really changes; not the people, the drama, and not any buildings save for the occasional fresh coat of paint or new lamp. Having something constant is always welcome, especially when it feels like the world is ending.

“What case did you say you were helping them with, y/n?” I’m drawn out of thoughts by Mrs. Hutcherson kindly sitting down across from Mick and Ketch, Fred still choosing to stand near his wife with crossed arms.

“They’re trying to track the movement of a very dangerous criminal, they have reason to believe he stayed here awhile back and then left." 

Josie smiles at me and turns back to the "agents” to speak, but Fred says, “Uh huh. And why does the FBI want to take up your time in this what I would think would be a highly classified search?”

Fred may mean well, but words were always something he left to Josie. Hopefully he’s only put off by Mick and Ketch, I would really hate for them to be hiding this demon kid.

“Y/n here knows almost every person in this town, and from what she’s told us she is extremely attentive as well.” Mick offers, “We were looking around aimlessly until we met her. My partner actually was interviewing her and she offered to help us look around town for a little bit.” He gave a reassuring smile towards Josie and a firm nod towards Fred.

“Now, have either of you noticed anyone strange at all in the past thirty to forty years? They would be extremely charismatic but slightly arrogant as well. And maybe looked something close to this picture.” Ketch asks while pulling out a picture of the current vessel of Asmodeus. Even though we aren’t sure he was in this vessel when having a kid, it’s the best bet we have in recognizing him at all.

Both Josie and Fred denied anyone acting out of the ordinary or ever seeing that picture before. I could tell Mick and Ketch wanted to keep interviewing Josie since she was more open, so I tried to get Fred a little ways away to get through to him better. “I know that you don’t really care for the FBI and sticking their noses where nothing has happened, Fred. "He uncrosses his arms with a sigh and a reluctant nod. "But this guy is a really bad guy and they asked me who would be the most attentive people to ask about. And you and your wife were the first I thought of, that’s all.”

After Fred agrees to be more open to answering their questions, I smile and thank him before walking back out toward the living room where Mick and Ketch are standing up.

“Y/n, I believe we shouldn’t take up anymore of these people’s time. Thank you both so much for all your help.” Mick says with a kind smile and handshake with Josie, then Fred.

“Thank you Josie and Fred, I’ll come over when I can,” I say with a wave out the door and down the sidewalk. Mick and Ketch also exit and walk back to their car.

“Anything you guys picked up on?” I question, lowering my voice with caution.

Ketch closes his eyes and with a short huff of air responds “Not really. The only odd thing Mrs. Hutcherson mentioned were the persistent lightning storms that drove everyone inside, except for this one time. There was a man and a small child who were outside in the middle of the road, completely unprotected. Just gazing up into the sky for a few hours….”

Thunder, so loud that it feels as though the earth beneath my feet shakes. I look up in wonder as brilliant flashes of lightning take over the dark sky. A warm hand rests on my shoulder, its presence keeping me focused and grounded.

I glance up to the man, who has a prideful smile and warm eyes, and I remember feeling safe despite the chaos and danger surrounding us.

The man speaks, sounding southern and calm. “My daughter, this will be our last night together, I was hoping for more time with you but it’s far too dangerous.” I tilt my head in question, turning to face him more. He continues, “Someday all of this will seem like a dream for you. That’s when your purpose will become clear. And we will be united once again.”

I feel tears starting to form, this is my father, he can’t abandon me now! “But father, when will that happen? And how long after I remember will I see you again?” He bends down to my level taking both my hands in his.

“I know I will miss you, my child, but I would rather feel this heartache than know you are at risk from Hunters. They are so dangerous and you must always be careful around them. Alright?” I nod my head and hug my father, one last time. I hear him speak once more. “I love you, never forget that.” And the whole world goes silent.

I faintly hear voices speaking to me but I couldn’t make out what they are saying. I know it’s Mick and Ketch. What on Earth are they doing here? The entire case comes flooding back to me, the Winchesters, Asmodeus, his kid, my strange hallucination. I struggle to open my eyes met with blinding light and someone, Sam, I think, sitting next to me.

“I’m sorry Sam, but there is no way for me to understand why she fainted. She appears to be in good health, not dehydrated, having enough food and energy. I can’t find anything wrong.” Cas says, slightly leaning his head back from his place at the end of a bed, near a small mirror on the wall.

I try to sit up and ask what’s going on, but Sam gently pushes my shoulders back onto the mattress.

“Hey, y/n don’t sit up yet, alright? You’ve been passed out for a while. Do you remember anything?” Sam speaks calmly and softly, as though speaking too loud may cause me to lose consciousness yet again.

“I remember helping you guys on a case,” I start, realizing how quiet my voice is and how hard it is to speak clearly. “You and Dean went to interview some people and Mick, Ketch, and me did the same. I remember leaving their house and walking out to the car…” I trail off, too unsure of how much I should reveal before learning whether it’s a weird vision, or… a memory? I shake my head at the thought. It’s simply impossible. I glance at Sam then Castiel while saying “I think that’s all I can remember, sorry.”

Sam gives a gentle smile just as the front door opens, revealing Dean, Ketch, and another person. He’s the shortest out of all the men but has a confidence about himself, sandy blond hair that’s longer than Dean’s but shorter than Sam’s, with beautiful whiskey colored eyes.

“Morning, Sunshine. Feeling any better?” Ketch asks, dragging my attention away from the newcomer.

“A little. My brain is still kinda foggy though. What happened?” I ask, looking between Mick and Ketch hoping they can help me discern reality from fiction.

“Well,” Mick begins, “we had finished interviewing the Hutchersons and walked out to our car. I told you what Mrs. Hutcherson had told us about seeing a man and a child during a lightning storm, and you fainted.”

He explained, taking a seat on my other side. I just stared at him for a while, trying to understand what had happened. I’m not a person who regularly faints, and this simply cannot be a coincidence.

“Okay, um thank you.” I say, surprised at how numb I sound. “Also, who are you?” I ask, looking at the strange man sitting at the table with Dean.

He smirks and responds “I’m Gabriel, like the Archangel.” He puts his hands next to his shoulders, waving them to mimic flying.

Dean rolls his eyes while Cas stares annoyed at Gabriel’s actions. I guess that sort of makes them brothers?

“Naturally. Well, I’m y/n and didn’t realize you were joining us.” I tilt my head at Mick slightly and he makes a point to stare at Sam across from me.

“Yeah well neither did we.” Dean speaks up, glancing at Cas.

The angel sighs and faces me “Gabriel was kidnapped by Asmodeus for his grace, a little over four months ago. Ketch used to work with him and was able to get Gabriel back to the bunker.” I look to Ketch who looks down, almost in shame. Then to Gabriel who simply rests his head on his hand and shrugs. Cas continues, “I called Gabriel here since he deserves to be in on taking down Asmodeus, and it certainly won’t hurt to have his help.”

“But enough about me,” Gabriel exclaims suddenly. He looks over to Sam, raising his hands up in question. Why can these idiots never just say what they need to say rather than act all secretive?

Sam takes a deep breath and turns slightly to better face me. “Y/n, I know you’re not going to remember everything. But, ” he pauses, searching my eyes while being careful to not give anything away.

“But…?” I prompt, looking around only to be met with Gabriel staring with anger towards me. Which is unbelievably rude and unfair, considering how I literally just met him.

“But, are you sure there’s nothing else you can remember? Any detail or generic thing?” Sam finishes, with an understanding smile. I don’t know what he could mean by that though, I mean, I was passed out for a long time and I don’t think people can speak while being unconscious in that sense.

I shook my head no after thinking for a moment. Gabriel let’s his head fall back in dramatic fashion while mumbling something under his breath.

“Sorry my answer isn’t the one you wanted, Gabriel.” His head snapped up and glared at me. What is this guy’s problem? “But I barely remember even walking out to the car, let alone any specific details of our last interview.”

“You’re lying,” Castiel said from the corner of the room, a perplexed look on his face. I wanted to ask what he meant but he continued, “you woke up in Ketch and Mick’s car and described something very disturbing.” I try not to shrink under the angel’s condemning gaze; because I actually don’t remember waking up at all until being in the motel. The disturbing thing I described, I don’t think I will ever be able to forget.

“I don’t remember that at all. I had no idea I woke up before five minutes ago.”

Gabriel stands up and snaps his fingers in one motion and I immediately find myself in the backseat of the Impala with Castiel next to me.

“What the hell was that for?!” I say trying to steady myself from falling to one side or the other.

Castiel barely spares me a look and explains “Gabriel snapped us both here to have some kind of privacy I assume.”

I try to open the door handle but Cas reaches over to grab my arm, and locks the door. He refuses to let go of me whether because of my continued swaying or because he thinks I could outrun him or something.

“Okay, and what exactly are you doing here? I wouldn’t think he would want privacy from you if he’s saying his piece.”

Castiel finally releases my arm but gives no answer, and instead, looks out the window.

I do the same hoping that Gabriel and the Hunters don’t take all day.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

(Back in the motel room)

Y/n and Cas had disappeared from the room thanks to Gabriel.

“Really, Gabe? You probably could’ve just asked them to leave the room for a minute.” Sam says, exasperated with Gabriel already.

Gabriel takes a deep breath and slowly walks around the room, in deep thought.

Dean uncrosses his arms, letting them rest on either side of the motel chair while watching the archangel pace the room, waiting for an answer.

“What have you got to say that you didn’t feel y/n or Cas should hear then?” Mick stands from the bed and asks, squaring his shoulders and walking towards Gabriel with annoyance.

Gabriel pauses his movements, stopping in front of Mick while saying, “Cas already knows what I’m gonna tell you, that’s why he’s with y/n right now.” He turns back looking at Ketch. “She did just wake up after being knocked out for a few hours and I’d rather not be responsible for a casualty already."Gabriel brushes by Ketch to sit on the spot that he vacated. "And I doubt she would appreciate her being told how probable it is that she is this nephidemon we’ve been looking for.”

The room falls silent as the Hunters process his words.

“And why exactly do you think this?” Sam asks Gabriel, a shocked expression on his face. “She literally volunteered to help us with this case without any kind of convincing from any of us. If she is the nephidemon, then wouldn’t she want to get as far away from all of us as possible?”

Gabriel closes his eyes and leans his head against the bed’s worn bed frame, “Sam, I can’t put my finger on it but when I first saw her, she reminded me of Asmodeus all over again.” He slowly opens his eyes, keeping them focused on the ceiling missing the spark within them. I can only assume that kind of trauma doesn’t leave a person - or archangel I guess unaffected.

“Well, try to. We have to figure this out now, or come up with a plan on testing her or something,” Dean says, rubbing his temples still trying to understand how y/n could have played them all along. How she could have played Ketch and Mick for even longer.

Gabriel sighed saying, “I don’t know if this will make you feel better, I doubt she knows herself if she’s related to Asmodeus. She doesn’t act like him at all, and from what you’ve said she sounded confused, scared even by what happened when she passed out.”

The group relaxes but only slightly. “How could she possibly not know?” Ketch thinks aloud, “and why would a single memory or hallucination suddenly reemerge right now?”

Gabriel only shrugs, not really being able to provide any kind of a possible answer or solution. Mick shakes his head and offers “He could have wiped her memory in order to protect her. That is why we initially thought the nephidemon would be here for so long.” Dean slowly nods while Sam rubs his eyes in frustration. “And maybe Ketch describing what Mrs. Hutcherson saw triggered part of her memory to come back; why she passed out.”

The men sat in silence, mulling over everything Gabriel brought up, before anyone could move to suggest anything further, the archangel snapped his fingers and slowly let his hand drop back down to the bed.

“Figured it might be smarter to ask her about it, maybe search her memory or something.” He states, beginning to act a bit more normal, as they wait tensely for y/n and Cas to walk back through the door.

[ainews]

During the 1480s, ketches (a type of sailing ship) were the primary mode of transportation and trade for many European countries. These ships were used for long-distance voyages and were an essential part of the global trade network.

However, despite their importance, ketches were not known for their sense of humor. In fact, jokes were often seen as out of place on these ships and were even banned by some captains.

One of the main reasons for this was the serious and dangerous nature of life on board a ketch. The sailors were constantly facing the unpredictable elements of the sea, and any mistake or miscommunication could result in disaster. As a result, captains and crew members were expected to maintain a serious and focused demeanor at all times.

Additionally, many of the crew members on ketches were from different countries and spoke different languages. This made it difficult for them to understand each other's jokes, leading to misunderstandings and potential conflicts. To avoid any potential language barriers, some captains opted to ban jokes altogether.

Furthermore, ketches were often owned and operated by wealthy merchants who were more concerned with profit than humor. These captains saw jokes as a waste of time and resources, and preferred their crew members to focus on their duties and making a profit for the ship.

Lastly, the port authorities and officials were also not keen on jokes on ketches. They saw sailors as rough and unruly individuals, and jokes were often seen as a way to stir up trouble and cause disruptions. As a result, they discouraged any type of lightheartedness on these ships.

In conclusion, jokes were out of place on ketches in the 1480s due to the serious nature of life on board, potential language barriers, the preferences of captains and owners, and the disapproval of port authorities. However, despite the lack of humor, ketches played a crucial role in shaping the global economy and trade during this time period.

[berenices-commas]

Osa - 1855-1867

Warship – 170 tons burden – 7-9 knots

The second Osa was also a Russian gunboat, this time built for the Baltic fleet. In 1854, following the entry of Britain and France into the Crimean War, their combined fleets raided Russian territory around the Baltic, prompting a rapid programme to construct small warships for coastal defence. In this plan the Russian government aimed to recreate the successes it had seen with oar-powered gunboats over Swedish ships in the previous century.

Their technology was updated, however, in the 1850s. Osa was ketch-rigged – a two-masted sail plan that made for ease of handling and reliability rather than speed. Her speed was provided instead by a screw propeller, with a steam engine capable of providing somewhere in the vicinity of 70 horsepower. On such a small vessel, this would have allowed her to outrun most traditional sailing ships, although screw sloops and frigates could still probably catch her. She was also heavily armed with three 68-pounder guns – notably, these fired not solid shot but explosive shells. These gave real advantages both in shore bombardment and in attacking wooden-hulled ships, as had been dramatically demonstrated in the Russian victory at Sinop the year before.

In the event the new gunboats proved a success, being able to manoeuvre easily in the shallow waters and inlets of the Baltic, and inflicting enough damage on British ships to warn them off coastal operations. The role of the Osa herself is unclear, but she certainly was not sunk. Nonetheless, the British blockade was essentially successful, and Russia was forced to make peace in 1856 before a newly-built fleet of British gunboats (the “Great Armament”) might have been deployed against their Russian counterparts. The Osa was perhaps mothballed, like many Russian vessels after the end of the war, and was finally broken up in 1867.

Again the name was given by the Imperial Russian Navy to a gunboat, suggesting an emphasis on firepower as a wasp’s sting. This second Osa, however, was also genuinely speedy and agile.

[bioticgoddess]

For funsies here are some of my Pathfinder and Starfinder, characters and (where applicable) the BG3 Tav or Durge they inspired:

Noravea "Nora", an Elf Cleric of Pharasma who inspired my current Tav "Morwen" (F!Seldarine Drow Druid). I have refused to play a cleric in this run and doubt I will because Shadowheart exists and is pretty easy to build.

Vashti, a Seldarine Drow Ranger who will be "grafted" into BG3 because reasons... probably as is but I might make an Elf Ranger because reasons.

Quatre "Ketch", a purple Tiefling Operative [Bounty Hunter]. She's inspired Qarina "Qari" my Tiefling Monk (also inspired by the Tiefling Monk I had in Kingmaker who's game I never finished playing).

Those are the big ones. if I use Vashti as she exists then I'm absolutely gonna have to make a second Rogue/Ranger or a fighter (high or wood elf).

Plans I have them.

[ratetigererevmax]

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