#Renegade Station

[dust-dust-dust]

[old-type-40]

I didn't go to [Doctor Who] conventions for a very good reason. I thought the fans would kill me. - Matthew Jacobs who wrote the 1996 TV movie with Paul McGann as the 8th Doctor

I'm currently watching a documentary titled "Doctor Who Am I" about this guy and how his friend (who's a documentary film maker) encouraged him to start going to conventions many decades after the movie aired.

He freely admits that his 2 major mistakes were making the Doctor half human and having the Doctor kiss the woman who would be the new companion if it had turned into a new series.

Also, I had no idea that he had written The Emperor's New Groove.

[mccoys-killer-queen]

It's hard to explain why I love Styx all of a sudden but i think part of it boils down to the fact that they were around me my whole life growing up and I never knew it and now that I'm realizing they were always there and not too far away it's like I'm getting to re-meet someone for the first time but in the way it was always meant to be? like "hey it's about time we finally met, I heard so much about you!"

[paigelts05]

[GORE] Misremembering the past [FNAF]

Link: https://www.deviantart.com/paigelts05/art/GORE-Misremembering-the-past-FNAF-921259418

Fic Link: https://www.deviantart.com/paigelts05/art/GORE-Misremembering-the-past-FNAF-921261089

AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/40046754

Evan Afton has a certain set of abilities.

1 - the ability to subdue the memories of his host and others.

2 - the ability to use certain electrical devices to predict and play events out in his hosts head, making the host feel as if he's actually there, to an uncanny degree of accuracy. Devices must be native to the location the predictions take place in.

Upon returning to the Pizzaplex, Gregory, having been posessed by Evan for a while now, uses the staff panels to try and find what's under the raceway, only to instead see how things would have played out if the princess quest 3 arcade didn't work.

Because whilst in that vision, the words, "Disassemble Vanny", fell out of his mouth, those words would never be his own.

═════════════°•.🌹.•°═════════════

[🌹 Staff panel 🌹]

"Kid, Why are we starting at a staff panel?"

Sylvia spoke in an unnerved tone as Gregory loomed over the daytime staff panel that sat between the two elevators that lead from the atrium to the lobby. It was the only one that wasn't fixed to a wall, and it was the only one unavailable during the night, so she knew that the panel should be retreating into the ground soon. Everyone had already split off into teams, with herself, Gregory, Cassey, Ness, and Mike being team A. Luis had been sectioned off into team B, so was elsewhere at the moment, which Sylvia noted didn't help Ness's nervous disposition either.

"That's what this is?" Gregory replied, hands firmly grasping the edges of the panel, "well, it's saved my ass a lot."

"How?" Sylvia seemed even more confused now, "it's just a staff panel."

Gregory took a deep breath and Sylvia noticed that one of his eyes seemed to reflect yellow, like a cat's eye.

"It lets me 'see' things. Go places I haven't been, see things that I haven't really seen. And when I let go, I'm back at the panel with only the hazy memories." He replied, his voice sounding rather distant, "it's why I chose to stay. Why I saved Ness from being Vanny. I could use these to study what's under the raceway. All I know is that something evil is down there, but I don't know what."

For all intents and purposes, Gregory had been classified as a paranormal entity, much like the rabbit child Cassey had taken in, and Sylvia understood why the kid got that label: between how he'd locked away a large portion of her and her sister's memories of the night Gregory was at the Pizzaplex (her memories returned within a day, yet she cannot speak for her sister) and this, there was no doubt in her mind anymore. She probably should have predicted something like this, but clearly, the kid was the master predictor here.

"We've got about half an hour before this panel sinks into the ground for the night. Do you want to see if you can mentally go back and find out what's there?" Sylvia asked, "I mean, we have our suspicions, we've seen the building plans, and cross referenced what was here before, so we know that the place William burned in was built over, reported as demolished, so is there some kind of lab that runs next to parts and services? A set of tunnels?"

"I'll see. But, first..." He seemed a bit uncertain as he let go of the panel and rushed towards Ness, giving her a hug. "I don't want this to become another hazy memory."

"It won't."

This voice didn't belong to anyone physically present, and everyone except Gregory stared at the spectre of a soldier that was hovering behind Gregory.

"You're Evan. Right?" Sylvia asked the ghost.

The ghost nodded and turned to Mike. It seemed to speak in a staticy tone. She was not surprised that Mike was able to understand and respond in the same staticy tones.

"Yes. And Mike's just informed me that I may have a bit of explaining to do." Evan replied, "whilst my host's giving his mum a hug, I'll explain."

Despite not having lungs, Evan took a deep breath. "I've been able to use these panels to effectively let Gregory trial out events in his head. It gives me all the data I could ever want, all the camera feeds that the fazwatch can't access, and more. It even let me see the two of you and predict what you would do on the few occasions when we'd cross paths."

"He wasn't able to predict you grabbing me after a map bot got in the elevator in the prize counter." Gregory piped up.

"No, even I didn't see that coming," Evan seemed to chuckle a bit, "but I was able to help him play out small snippets in his head. He'd just have to see the layout of a room, hell he didn't even have to see the whole room, and I'd teach him to traverse it in a million ways. Hell, I could work off distant camera feeds and it'd work out."

"So you think you'll be able to predict what's under the raceway?" Mike, Sylvia, and Ness spoke at the same time, but Mike was the only one to continue and say "jinxed!"

"Sadly, I don't know yet. I can try, but I feel that I'd I need more information. But I can take him back to 6 AM that night and let him see how else things may have played out if he made other choices - going to the raceway included but I have no guarantees. It'll only look like a second to you, but to him, it may feel like hours." Evan then turned to Ness, "So if he starts crying, comfort him. I didn't forsee any good outcomes for you other than the one we took, so if he strays off his true memories, which is required for this research, he may see you die. A one in three chance, to be precise."

Ness nodded, and Evan nodded back.

"Do you think I can record it?" Cassey asked, eyeing up the staff panel.

"I don't know, but no harm in trying." Evan replied before fading back out, presumably to take back his back seat in Gregory's mind.

"I think I can do this." Gregory said as he pulled away from his hug. "Go in, gather some information, and get out."

"I know you can." Ness replied.

"You got this, little man!" Sylvia egged Gregory on.

"You've got this in the bag." Mike also egged Gregory on.

"Counting on ya." Cassey smiled as she plugged her laptop into the staff panel and set up a data intercept/receive thing that even Sylvia didn't quite understand.

With a deep breath, Gregory approached the panel again, and as he touched it, he seemed to recoil as if he had been zapped by a static shock.

"Yikes, you ok?" Cassey spoke before even Ness could even try to reply, "Don't get too ballsy and just play it safe. Time passes slower in your head and that was less than a second for us, so take all the time you need."

Gregory looked scared, then cocked his head, "you saw?"

"Like, a frame of a banged up chica in your face, but, yeah." Cass replied, "you got this. We'll be here for you if you want to try again."

"Right." Gregory replied, "I'll try again. I need to get that information."

Gregory grabbed the control panel again, and he seemed to be in a world of his own. As the seconds that passed felt like hours, Cassey's eyes widened in horror as she looked at her screen.

[🌹 In his head 🌹]

He had come back here because wanted to check out something, but he couldn't remember exactly what.

He went straight for Fazerblast. Perhaps he'd be able to learn more about... Vanny?

He had already forgotten her name.

He shook his head, he needed to focus, but that was hard when his memories were being washed away and replaced with a sense of Deja vu.

He hated how Evan's visions always did this to him, but it was necessary. The memories would return, as whilst Evan could forcefully repress memories, as he did to Vanny and Officer Vanessa that night after they left the building, he couldn't erase memories. He'd temporality lose that memory soon too, and this memory of the past would feel like the present.

He just had to take a deep breath, take it slow, and keep moving.

He remem-

Gregory's mind felt like a void. It felt like a chunk of his mind had been torn out, leaving him a shell of his own self in its wake.

He didn't know which way he should go.

He heard the distortion of Vanny behind him and knew that he had to move.

As he pressed on, he ran around Roxy, her blindness making her easy to dodge. Then he came to where he failed last time. Chica stood at the foot of the stairs and he ducked around her, this time not accidentally running into her like a moron.

The déjà vu freaked him out. Why did the words 'this time' and 'last time' come to mind. Had he lost his mind?

As he ascended the spiral steps, he heard Freddy's voice, exactly as it was back there.

He already knew the words, he didn't need to hear them again.

But how could he have heard them before to think that? Why did he already knew those words so well?

Fear and uncertainty welled up in his mind. Not over the robots, but his own sanity.

He opened the gate and dashed across the catwalks, and when he got to Vanny's hideout, he looked around. The place was a tip. Pizza boxes and drinks cups lined the floors, the computer was on its screensaver, a mattress and blanket lay on the floor as an unmade bed, and the name "Vanny" was written in purple on the walls.

Why write your own name on the walls?

'Unless it wasn't really her name.'

As he approached the arcade to end this, he found that something was off.

It wasn't working.

He felt a pit grow in his stomach as the arcade remained stoic with a screen unmoving. He tried pressing the buttons, but nothing would work.

'I played the arcades. At least, in the real world.'

He swore he had spoke, but no noise came out. It was as if he couldn't speak at all.

but two words stood out to him.

Real world.

What 'real world'? Wasn't this real? His mind felt cloudy. There was something just out of reach, obscured by a thick fog. He grasped at something, and felt the edges of a cage in his own mind, keeping him from memories that should be his.

He heard the distortion get closer.

'Why now. I know what happens next, and I need to go, so let me see it again!'

The words fell from muted lips onto deaf ears.

He saw the button on the desk and examined it. He tried to drag in any memories at all of what he was told about staffbot commands, but all the memories were trapped behind lock and key.

And he didn't have the key.

As the distortion became unbearable, he reached for the staffbot panel on the desk.

'The panel should be able to be removed. Got it.'

He turned around and saw Vanny reaching out for him, and whilst the words he screeched came out of his own mouth, they were not his own. They would never be his own.

"Disassemble Vanny!"

Both Gregory and Vanny froze as the staffbots turned their attention from the robotic bear to the rabbit lady.

Something about Vanny changed, as if a switch was flipped in her head. He could hear shaky breaths from under the rabbit mask, and whimpers of fear. Even through the rabbit lady had gotten close before, she'd never been like this; it was as if a facade had dropped and she was finally showing her true self. As staffbots stormed the control room, Vanny backed away, scared and confused, raising her arms, seemingly in an attempt to surrender in hopes that they'd not kill her.

But the staffbots do not know mercy.

A lock came undone in his mind.

'It's just a vision.'

All at once, a group of staffbots pushed Vanny to the ground, and time seemed to freeze.

Then, the first staffbot thrusted it's hands down in a scooping motion, tearing fabric and skin like it was nothing, staining the staffbots hand a deep red. A pained scream pierced the air as the staffbot tore the chunk of flesh from her torso, blood pouring from the open wound.

It looked wrong.

You should not be able to see a person's internal organs.

After a second that felt like hours, the other staffbots joined in.

Another lock in his mind came undone, sending another thought clattering to the ground.

'It's not real.'

He tried to tell himself as staffbots grabbed and tore chunks of fabric, then flesh, but Vanny's screams echoed in his ears.

He knew that he should run away, cover his eyes with the staff panel, do something that wasn't standing here. But he couldn't.

The staffbots hadn't even grabbed any internal organs yet, fixated on tearing the flesh from her abdomen, and the pool of blood under her had already spread far enough to stain his shoes red.

Then it happened.

The first staffbot grabbed a rib. Another grabbed a handful of intestines.

Gregory watched as she thrashed about trying to free herself from the grasp of the staffbots, but no matter how much she struggled, thier grip didn't break.

Vanny's screams begun to grow more faint as bones and viscera were tossed to the side as if they were scrap metal, and soon, all Gregory could hear was coughing, gurgling, and the whirring of the staffbots as they tore the woman to shreds.

The bottom of the rabbit mask was soaked in blood, both from the viscera and gore splattered up from the outside, and the blood she had coughed up from under the mask.

Her struggling slowed to a squirm, then to a twitch.

But the staffbots didn't stop. Not until the floor and walls were coated in blood.

It wasn't until he swore he saw her heart be discarded onto the floor that the staffbots finally released thier grip on her and moved away, uncaring if not ignorant of the fact that they had torn someone to shreds.

But even if the staffbots were the ones to tear her apart, he was the one who pushed the button and put her to death.

The third lock on his memories came undone.

'It's just a nightmare.'

Gregory stood and stared, struggling to process what had happened, bearly aware of the blood that had splatted onto him and soaked into his clothes.

If anyone walked in and saw him, they'd think that he had killed her with his own hands, and they'd be mostly correct.

He felt tears break through the blood that soaked his face, but he didn't know why. All she had done was try to kill him. But there was something else he couldn't remember; the memory still held behind lock and key.

He remembered that Freddy lay torn apart in the Fazerblast arena. Seeing that damage applied to a human was gut wrenching, and he felt as if he was about to throw up.

But he couldn't throw up. Everything felt fuzzy, as if he shouldn't even still be standing here.

As he was about to leave, he felt as if a fourth and final padlock fell to the floor, finally unlocking the door in his mind.

So many memories leaked through all at once, but he only considered one of them to be important.

Instead of lying down next to what was left of Freddy, he decided to lie down next to what was left of his adoptive mum.

The world became a blur, and as it faded into nothing, Gregory hoped this would be nothing more than a horrible memory.

[🌹 Back in reality 🌹]

Gregory screamed as he tore himself away from the staffbot panel, taking one step back before doubling over in a mix of nausea and despair.

Everyone saw that Gregory was shaking, and Ness was the first to rush to his aid.

"Gregory! Is everything ok?" She was crouched by Gregory's side, unsure of weather to place her arm around the shaking child or not.

"Mum..." He whimpered. Ness had never seen Gregory like this before. Usually, he was tough and didn't let anything get to him. Even though he now had a roof over his head and no need to repress any emotions, he still did so. Perhaps this was everything bubbling to the surface.

He leaned into Ness slightly and she took that as a sign to wrap an arm around his shoulder.

"Don't worry, I'm right here." She said, feeling how much he was shaking, and looking over at Cassey for an indicator of what he had just seen.

Cassey looked pale, her usually tan skin now a waxy hue. She closed her computer and looked over at Ness and Gregory before unplugging the device and going to Mike and Sylvia to quietly discuss what happened.

Ness felt Gregory cling to her jacket, so she wrapped her other arm around him too, pulling him into a hug. "It's going to be alright." She said as she tried to comfort her son, but no matter what she did, Gregory wasn't calming down. Every word made him wail more, as if her voice was salt on an open wound.

"The arcade..." She heard Gregory mumble, "it didn't work."

Ness felt her blood run cold, and she had a hunch as to why Gregory was so scared. Whilst she was hardly aware of the goings on that night, she did know what command Glitchtrap had her say to the staffbots and what actions Gregory had taken to free her.

"The arcade didn't work," he continued to sob, "and the only thing I could do was grab the control panel and ..."

Sylvia must have heard too, as she was now starting at the duo, white as a sheet and shaking, looking like she was about to vomit.

Sylvia felt like she was back in that elevator, begging the doors to open. She put two and two together and knew what Gregory had just seen, because if he had taken himself back to Fazerblast using that panel... and the arcade didn't work... there was only one outcome that remained.

Shakily, she strode over and crouched besides Ness and Gregory.

"It's ok kid, what you saw when you grabbed the panel and took yourself back to Fazerblast wasn't real." She took a deep breath, "I should know. When you were actually in Fazerblast going to the hideout, for REAL, I was stuck in the elevator. It wouldn't let me in, so I had to take the elevator up a floor and crawl through the vent in the winners lounge. I saw you play the arcade."

Gregory and Ness both looked at Sylvia.

"How'd you know?" Gregory sniffed up a sob, "... what I saw with the panel."

"You said enough for me to figure it out. Arcades not working. Control panel." Sylvia listed off, "when I was in that lift, the arcade not letting you in was my greatest fear. Earlier in the night, I had managed to spot you on cameras beating the other Princess Quest arcades. But beating the arcades alone didn't let Luis in, so I didn't think you'd have a chance in hell of being let in without glitching the other arcades, which I knew you didn't do."

Gregory nodded, but otherwise stayed quiet.

"If me glitching the arcades didn't let you in, I knew you'd have gone straight for that panel. But you didn't. It let you in, and let you save her. I think its because I was nearby." Sylvia was worried that the words sounded too stern, but she carried on anyway, "Unlike the you now, the you from a few days ago didn't know who Vanny really was. And it was that you who you were viewing a misremembered past through, not current you."

Gregory nodded and whilst he was still sobbing, there weren't as many tears anymore.

"I just laid a secret I swore I'd take to my grave bare and all I get is a nod?" She tried to sound jokey, but it was true, "C'mon, that's not fair."

She saw Gregory shake a bit, but it was very much distinctly a laugh.

"There we go. That's the kid that broke my ankles in rockstar row." Sylvia smiled, hoping that it'd be contagious.

An awkward silence echoed between the group, but as Sylvia begun to back off, Ness smiled a little bit.

"His breathing is slowing down! I think he's calming down."

"He is?!" Sylvia was admittedly a little shocked that what she said actually worked, given her track record of accidentally scaring kids into distrusting her.

Ness nodded as Gregory sat nestled under her arms. He was no longer shaking, and seemed fit to fall asleep on the spot.

Upon seeing this, Mike and Cassey breathed a sigh of relief before continuing thier quiet discussion and taking notes, whilst Sylvia tallied through everything she knew so far in her head.

The relative quiet was broken by the now quiet voice of Gregory.

"How long was I gone? Like, in my head at the staff panel for?"

Sylvia tried to count the seconds on her fingers and Ness resigned from answering as it had felt like hours to her, yet Cassey turned around and answered, as she was the one with the computer and had recorded the output of the staff panel during the time that Gregory had been 'in his own head' for.

"Ten seconds."

Gregory's jaw dropped and his eyes widened in shock.

"Ten seconds!" His voice indicated panic and stress, "why did it take that long!"

As he seemed to be at a loss for words, the spectral form of Evan appeared once again.

"You were in the memory for a perceived ten minutes." The ghost's voice was monotonous, "it makes sense that time would pass as such."

"I've had you predict hours before in seconds. How does that excuse make any sense!" Gregory shouted at the ghost as he sunk further into the ground.

"Because," Evans replied, his voice cold, "dredging up an old memory is a taxing process and requires far more work. Predicting the future is a far simpler task."

"Riiight. Got it." Gregory begrudgingly responded. It had been obvious from the get-go that there were many things between Evan and Gregory that neither would ever divulge to another soul, for which the mutual understanding they shared must have answered many questions that the kid simply never asked out loud, which is likely why the topic seemed to shift so quickly. "But you better commit to your memory what Sylvia said: that she was nearby in the elevator. And that if you let me 'see' that night again, the arcade better work or I'll jump straight into Roxy's paws!"

Once again the group was overtook by a deafening silence. All eyes stared at Gregory in shock and horror.

As he felt Ness's hug grow tighter, he realised that he probably shouldn't have said that.

"In the memory, duh." The kid rolled his eyes as he spoke, trying to brush off the whole situation, "I'm not that dumb."

There was a sigh of relief from everyone except Mike.

"I understand you must be incredibly distressed, but I'm going to have to keep an eye on you for that. Sorry." Mike seemed fairly distressed himself, "if she happens to get hurt, I can't be sure that you'll be able to tell reality from future sight. We can't have you needlessly getting hurt."

"Seriously?" Gregory huffed.

"Yep. You've been through a lot, and for ... people like us, the line between reality and ... Spectral can get blurred." Mike seemed to struggle at finding the correct words, hoping that the kid would get the jist of what he was saying, "so, for your mum's sake, try to stay level headed. ... try calling for help instead. Ok? Who knows what this place can do to a person's mind."

Gregory was quiet for a moment.

"I see. You're thinking that if we go back to Fazerblast, which we probably will, something may make me use the staffbot panel against mum?"

"It's a possibility," Mike replied, "I work with ghosts and people whose lives have been impacted by the paranormal as my day job. It'd be nothing new. I've seen more far fetched things happen."

"Ok Mr paranormal cop." Gregory took a deep breath, "I'll keep that in mind when we go back to get Freddy's body."

"Right. Sorry if I sounded pushy at all. This is my job, after all." Mike nodded, slightly nervous, hoping the kid actually took what he had said seriously. "And when do you want to get Freddy?"

"Any time. You guys dragged along an army to investigate, right?" Gregory then tried to look back at the staff panel, "Actually, I'll see if I can find out anything else first. Maybe I'll find out if there's anything useful that may wind up getting disposed of if we don't find it now."

"You're kidding, right?" Sylvia interjected, "do you want to cry your eyes out again?"

"It won't happen again." Gregory sounded so deadpan that it was scary.

"Well I guess there's no stopping you." Sylvia replied, backing away a bit.

"I'm going to see if I can have Evan recall the raceway. I don't know if it'll work, as I've not been under there, but then again, I've never seen staffbots tear a human to shreds, so there's that." Gregory wanted to remain hopeful, but he knew that one wrong move would land him back in a world of hurt again. He'd already weighed up the odds, and it was worth the risk.

"Be careful." Cassey said as she plugged her computer back into the staff panel.

"No jumping into Roxy. Ok?" Mike said with a sigh before looking over at Ness.

Ness released Gregory from her hug and smiled, "it'll be ok. I'll be right here when you snap out of it, no matter what you see. Ok?"

Gregory nodded and turned back to face the staff panel. It was now or never.

The atmosphere was far more tense than before, and rightfully so.

He had used a ghost to hook himself, a human child, up to a huge network of devices, all of which were infected by the same ghost that turned Ness into a killer. The risks were undeniable, especially now. The ghost may jump back to Ness. It may jump to him. It may latch onto anyone.

That's why he had to try and discern what they were truly up against preemptively.

He concentrated all his thoughts on finding out what is underneath the Raceway, and turned to face the staff panel.

Gregory reached out for the staff panel one last time. As his hands connected with the screen, he seemed to be in a world of his own again, and ten seconds later, he let go with a sharp inhale.

Ness prepared to catch him, just in case he collapsed, but Gregory didn't fall.

He didn't cry.

He seemed oddly calm.

"I saw what was under the raceway, and I think I know how we can beat him. There's just a LOT of prep-work we've got to do first. We should start with finding the rest of Freddy. Now. Then you can do your investigation into this place. The rabbit man is trying to get Freddy."

[whovian223]

Expansion Review - Clank in Space: Cyber Station 11

Expansion Review - Clank in Space: Cyber Station 11 @PlayRenegade @direwolf

[thesiltverses]

A bit of a Monday surprise for you, folks. Today's episode of The Silt Verses actually ended up being so big - clocking in at very nearly two hours - that it made sense to split it up into two separate chapters, both of which we are releasing today!

(We've also turned the ads off on Chapter 42 so that anyone who wants to listen to both chapters at once doesn't have to wade through a big chunk of advertising at the one-hour mark.)

Really hope you enjoy the listen, as ever, and take care!

Chapter 41: But As My Last Breath Splits My Throat

Episode: https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/chapter-41-but-as-my-last-breath-splits-my-throat/id1547222295?i=1000657666166

Transcript: https://www.thesiltverses.com/transcript-season-3-chapter-12

Episode description: As Paige's encampment continues to grow, she sets out to rescue a stranded batch of pilgrims in the polluted lands - and has an unexpected encounter at the end of a long and lonely road.

Content warnings: This episode contains a detailed car crash sequence.

This episode features: Lucille Valentine, Jimmie Yamaguchi, Ishani Kanetkar, Laurence Owen, Kale Brown and Sarah Golding, with additional voices by Madeleine Turley.

Chapter 42: I'll Wheeze Through Splintered Teeth

Episode: https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/chapter-42-ill-wheeze-through-splintered-teeth/id1547222295?i=1000657666269

Transcript: https://www.thesiltverses.com/transcript-season-3-chapter-12a

Episode description:

At the river's wellspring, a prophet realises that he's come to loathe his station, his followers, his faith - and himself. In Glottage, three renegades plot to overthrow the government. Across the channel, a saint attempts to become a god.

Content warnings:

This episode contains suicidal ideation, multiple scenes of body horror, and murderous infants.

This episode features:

B. Narr, H.R. Owen, Alex Nursall, Rhys Lawton, Erika Sanderson, Méabh de Brún, Sarah Griffin, Jimmie Yamaguchi, Marta da Silva, and William A. Wellman.

Additional voices by Gabriel Robinson, David Ault, Lou Sutcliffe, AJ Fidalgo, Erika Sanderson, Kale Brown, Jesse Syratt, and Rae Lundberg.

[translatemunson]

file 001 — call sign: Hyde

chapter one of death defying acts

masterlist | next chapter

cw: fem!reader, afab!reader, no descriptions of reader (i'm really trying to keep my descriptions of her and her background to a minimum so i can be inclusive to all people, but let me know if i can improve), no use of y/n, reader has a call sign (i had to pick one, it makes sense for the story), innacuracies about the navy, topgun and army (i did my best guys), this takes places after the events of the movie.

It has been the longest 48 hours of your life.

You were supposed to touch down in San Diego on a Monday, but because of an airline error, your flight was postponed to late Tuesday, from an airport 2 hours away from Fallon, Nevada. When you arrived, Tuesday night, there was no time to unpack your stuff, just to find a clean uniform in the boxes, pack yourself a bag for your first day, check if your father got enough gas on your car, get your bed ready and sleep.

You were expected in the San Diego Naval Air Station North Island at the break of dawn. You would be lying if you said you weren’t excited or anxious to work in such a historical place like North Island. Your mother told you stories from when she worked there, decades ago, and your dad said the best teams were assembled there, amongst the Top Gun students. The pressure was on.

You joined the Navy in your home state, but you were transferred around during your fighter pilot training, and then again for Intelligence officer training. After completing the training, you transferred to Nevada to get a more in depth experience on Air missions with the Top Gun graduates, but that didn’t lead you to working with them during real missions.

Now being in San Diego, you knew it was your chance to impress the higher ups and finally earn some well deserved respect for your work. Intelligence Work was just as hard as flying those jets, but there was something always making your next step even harder inside those officers and mission control rooms.

The guy at the gates checked your ID. Once he cleared your entry, you drove to the Administration Office, ready to get your new credentials and get the job done. You parked your black Renegade, texted your mom — Hey, it’s gonna be a busy day. I’ll call you on Friday. —, grabbed your backpack and entered the place like you were on a mission.

It was like being on autopilot: waiting rooms, greetings, new credentials, a quick introduction to your new Intelligence team, a look at the following weeks schedule, a long meeting with Admiral Simpson — call sign Cyclone — discussing all the classified information you had to know about the team you would be working closely with. Names, call signs, previous missions and confirmed air kills. Familiar faces, new ones, a few last names you knew came from a line of ex military parents, just like you.

It was way past two when you were clear from all the first day activities. The Admiral ended the presentation just as his secretary entered the room to let him know he was needed in the meeting room.

“Don’t hesitate to stop by if you have questions, Officer. Your father spoke very highly of you and your work.” Oh, of course, he knew your father. Everybody was familiar with the teaching techniques from the one and only Warbird. “I believe Captain Mitchell is conducting flying exercises on Hangar One, if you’re interested in meeting the Dagger Squad.”

“Thank you, Admiral.” You collected all the files that were designated to you. “Will do.”

It was a good idea to just turn to the parking and go home, but you were curious to meet part of the team. Differently from other previous missions, all your analysis and suggestions would go through the captains and admirals before they made any decisions. But still, it was very important for you to understand what was at stake and which suggestions could be made right away.

You stopped by your car to throw your bag on the passenger seat and followed the path to the hangar. The waiting room was empty, but you saw a few silhouettes on the tarmac, going through the end of the day checklist. You turned the volume of the radio on, trying to gather some information about who was on the air. Besides a few directions here and there, they were useless to find out who those pilots were.

You could tell one of them was arrogant by their tone, maybe even too snarky and impatient. Based on their banter, it was clear they were doing basic maneuver training, and Maverick was the one chasing them. Some good old flight training tactics, you see. For a team that just got back from a dangerous mission — barely in one piece, but still — you were wondering why they kept those guys back for another one instead of taking advantage of Maverick’s skills and getting a new team there. Maybe even with the almost mission failure, there was potential amongst those aviators.

“You’re out, kid.” You heard Maverick on the radio, and more grumblings from the other guy.

You left the waiting room and finally walked to the tarmac. Arms crossed over your chest, you were looking forward to the following day, where you would gather details about their flight styles and their skills during missions. You had something around ten weeks to settle down and learn everything about the team before you’re deployed to a mission.

The F/A-18s landed graciously, and that constant nostalgia hit you again, leaving you wondering how would it feel to be back on a jet, what would feel to be on an official mission. Those days were far gone for you, the idea of flying just in case of traveling, and maybe a few minutes in one of your dad’s planes. But just for a moment enough to pump some adrenaline, landing on the tarmac just before your mind picked up the speed.

“Do my eyes deceive me?” You turned around and smiled at the sight of a familiar face.

“You wouldn’t be backseating if your sighting was bad, Robert.” You joked. Bob joined the Navy in the same period as you, and you trained together until the very last day you hopped on a jet. “Heard you managed the impossible.”

“Just doing my job.”

You hugged him, and finally those aviators started to pay attention to you.

“Who’s the pretty face, Bob?” A tall, tanned skin and blond aviator asked. “Your girlfriend?”

“Keep it in your pants, Bagman.” A woman came from behind one of the jets.

“Glad to see you’re still as sharp as that one training in Nevada, Phoenix.” You were happy to be back with Natasha Trace. She was one of the Navy aviators in one of the mission simulations you had back in Nevada, two years ago. It was one of the first times you stepped in as mission commander, and while other aviators weren’t happy with your orders, Phoenix was one of the few that happily followed them — and succeeded in the simulation.

“What? Did I miss any memo about a new pilot?” Bagman turned around.

“Not a pilot, Seresin.” Maverick finally showed up. “Officer, glad you could join us.”

“Captain, would you have a minute to discuss a few details about next week's mission simulation?” Time was precious for you. As soon as you could align the information you had in hand with the captain, the easier it would be to come up with plans for action.

“Definitely not a pilot.” Just like a shadow to his father, Bradley Bradshaw even carried the same mustache you saw in your dad’s pictures. You two had never crossed paths during your career in the Navy, but aviators would talk a lot over a few beers and drinks. And you were not looking forward to working with him.

“I’ll meet you in the office in 5,” he replied and went his way.

You turned around, now facing a bigger group of curious aviators. The Dagger Squadron. You knew their names and faces now, but that didn’t matter a lot.

“Ok, so who are you exactly?” Bagman, or Seresin, asked.

“People call me Hyde.” Even though your last name was embroidered in your uniform, people tended to ignore it. Your call sign from when you were flying jets carried over to the Intelligence rooms because of your reputation. “I’m part of the Navy Intelligence, and I’m gonna be training closely with you,” you looked around, “and be part of the next mission.”

You weren’t planning on being there for longer than one mission: you needed to prove yourself to your superiors in order to get assigned to missions overseas, with international teams. It was just another mission for you.

“We’ll be seeing each other soon. Have a nice evening, aviators.”

You turned around and walked back to the hall, but before you could be out of reach, you heard someone saying, “Who the hell does she think she is?”

a/n: hello everyone! first fanfic for top gun: maverick, let me know what you guys think! i believe this will be more fast paced, focused on reader and her life as an intelligence officer (i made up most of the stuff for it since it's not easy to find info about it on the internet). huge shout out to the lovely @live-love-be-unique for indulging in this universe with me! i'm taking requests for this fic, so feel free to reach out via asks or dms! see ya soon.

[sweatandwoe]

Love Garrus' negative traits

Love that he embodies everything negative we usually associate positively with renegade Shepard. Love how it doesn't fit him, how it fails him each time he tries. Love that he tries to blind himself into a world where there's only good or bad people (like a cop). Love that he decides Omega, the greyest of grey places, is a place full of bad people. "All I have to do is point my gun and shoot" but not for the people he's trying to save, the peope who call him "Archangel". Who were they again? Does he even recognize them when he's aiming for criminals on the station?

Love that Garrus is forced to confront seeing the world this way in a paragon route, that he's forced to see grey, address the grey. Realizing that everyone has something, a cause, a reason and that his brand of justice may not be just.

Love that Garrus hates the rules that surround him but he is in fact the reason C-Sec has so much red tape, to try and stop injustice among their forces. That Turians aren't meant to question but he does so much but about the wrong things; he's too blind by hate to understand what he's doing. Garrus wants to take care of people and protect people like a good turian however he thinks the best way to help is killing the "bad people". He believes in eye for an eye but hasn't heard the full quote, doesn't know "An eye for an eye will make the world blind". Mercy for one person he despised, who he hated, causes him to rethink his whole character and his previous actions.

I just love this level of tragedy and self-evaluation to a dorky, alien sniper

[canonkiller]

The Eberron maincamp has unfortunately prematurely ended, so (with DM clearance) I'm going to share the stuff I'd had as spoilers so it can be known, for funsies.

Here's some bonus links -

Delta, Bravo, Lima (character playlist)

Renegade (bgm playlist)

writing treat 1

writing treat 2

writing treat 3

early test for characterization

crew assessments + reasonings

house lyrandar medical record, classified

- and here's some of the information about Valka Rotaeir, captain and pilot of the airship Revelation, and two more images because the read more breaks if I try to move them.

Dossier of House Lyrandar:

NAME: Valka Rotaeir AGE: 71 yrs. (b. 927yk) HEIGHT: 7 ft. 3 in. WEIGHT: 244 lbs. SPECIES: Dragonborn (Green) TITLE(S): Cpt., Ms.

EMPLOYMENT RECORD: Civilian recruited by Cpt. Adelaide Mallory in 948yk. Served well as navigator and representative until the Treaty of Thronehold ended the war in 996yk. Returned to service in 997yk as navigator aboard the Revelation after its post-war refitting. Survived the unforeseen accident that occured during the Revelation's test flights over the Endworld Mountains along with four others who retired from active duty after the incident. Following a recovery period, she was promoted to Cpt. of the Revelation as Cpt. Mallory was rendered incapable of command during the incident, for exemplary action and demonstration of skill beyond her station and duty.

Rotaeir has shown distaste for the House and the war throughout her employment, but has not publicly denounced either and remains dedicated and hardworking. Her experience is vital to the House; losing her is not an option. Cede whatever is needed to maintain her connection to the House. If this fails, take necessary measures.

Valka was formerly the ship's navigator and diplomatic representative as a knowledge domain cleric. The Revelation was in active duty during the war, and Valka was a late addition to the crew, recruited by her then-future husband, Roshan. The two of them had a strong relationship despite the war, and while both wanted to retire, Roshan's dragonmark bound him to piloting duty and Valka refused to leave him.

During the late years of the war, they had a child together. Valka entrusted her egg to a caretaker in secret, fearing it would be damaged or killed if she kept it with her on the ship. The settlement it was in was later targeted; though the two of them searched for years (and Valka never truly stopped) they were never able to find the egg or its remains in the ruins.

After the war, with Roshan kept in duty by the House, a mechanical failure in the experimental drive of the Revelation led to a catastrophic crash that killed most of her crew. Valka survived at the cost of her husband's life; Roshan, her Rose, made the choice to sacrifice himself to save her, grafting his arm and eye - and his dragonmark - to save her life in the hopes that she would be able to help whoever was left until they were rescued.

Awarded prestige and merits for her survival, and resenting all of them for praising that she had survived what her family had not, Valka suffered - and continues to suffer - lingering pain and migraines from the crash. Her grafted arm is unresponsive and is kept immobile, and her grafted eye has light sensitivities that dragonborn nervous systems are not equipped to handle, granting her night vision but requiring a cover in ordinary light. The dragonmark haunts her more than anything else; as something meant to die with its bearer, what does it mean that it transferred to her? Was Roshan able to rest in peace, or does she drag his spirit with her?

The house took advantage of her fragile state after the crash and convinced her of Roshan's continued presence as being bound to the airship, a belief that she still holds, while publicly covering up the truth of the crash and Valka's inherited dragonmark. She was bound back into service by the mark, as it allows her to pilot the ship and its experimental, secretive systems. The Revelation is her family, her love, and her airship, and she will defend it with her life - to do anything else would be to abandon Roshan.

And, in Sharn, a now-grown dragonborn named Zykr looks strangely familiar... (Hi, Andy!)

With the House bearing down on her lack of respect for their authority, she has gone rogue; drawn under the influence of the Lord of Blades and allied with warforged forces, she only seeks a way out - to take the Revelation and leave this stupid, angry war behind, at any cost.

Depending on how things went, there was a chance she would end up at Wanderstrand - that's for a post later today, because I had to keep that one REALLY secret, but it's half of the 3rd writing treat link.

Trivia:

Valka's tarot card is the three of swords.

Her character playlist title is in international maritime signal flags: Keep clear of me; I am maneuvering with difficulty / I am taking in or discharging or carrying dangerous goods. / Stop immediately.

Rotaeir is a simple combination of the valkyrie names Róta (sleet and storm) and Eir (peace, clemency, help, mercy). Valka just sounded right.

Though not on her paperwork, she took a translated version of the Revelation's name (Saksatkara) as her own surname after the crash

Receiving the dragonmark replaced her existing clerical abilities; narratively, she lost faith in the gods and her own experience that granted her a knowledge domain, and instead only had faith in the destruction and grief that the storm domain had brought her.

Roshan's dragonmark spans her whole grafted arm; it glows faintly when oh board the ship, and brightness increases with how much energy she has focused into using it. At full effort, it is bright enough to glow through the brace / sling.

Mechanically, she can strike anyone who damages her with an immediate lightning strike.

While neither of her eyes retain their original color, she had golden eyes like Zykr. They also share a heart-shaped chest marking.

Valka's physical difference from Zykr was a worldbuilding adjustment; half dragonborn would have had more humanoid body shapes, while full dragonborn more closely resembled dragons. It never came up.

After being briefly dead, Zykr began having visions of being on a boat with a person he didn't recognize; he was seeing though Valka's eyes, unknowingly looking at his own father, Roshan. Surprise, Andy! There would have been more hints about it in Sharn if we'd gotten to explore some more.

Original reference document text:

Valka is an elderly dragonborn woman, weathered by the past years of war. She is snakelike in appearance, wiry and lithe at 7'3", with a longer neck, body, and limbs. She stands slouched, leaning heavily on a polearm that doubles as a makeshift cane; often heavily bundled against the cold, her right leg is braced under her clothes and her right arm and hand are entirely covered by a black brace buckled in faded brass, kept immobile against her chest by a sling. Her scales are mottled dark greens and yellows, graying around her eyes, muzzle, and knuckles, and she has many visible scars from old battles on all visible skin. The right side of her face is badly burned, and her eye on that side is entirely covered by a large patch. Her other eye is milky white; it's uncertain whether she can see our of her visible eye or if the patch isn't opaque.

Boot on braced leg has a special hook on the heel that she can clip to the harness strap on her thigh to keep is raised / out of the way if mobility is more important than stability. Safety harness extends down the upper part of her tail; anchors to this instead of her braced leg when necessary.

Though not visible, the eye under the patch is unnervingly human-like (as it originally belonged to Roshan), and if her arm brace were removed, the arm underneath is also distinctly not her own; she is unable to move the replacement limb at all, and the dragonmark on it does not move to anywhere else on her body though she can utilize its power.

As a child, Valka was often drawn to the idea of traveling. She restrained her desire to leave for many years, bound by ties to her family and home, until a chance meeting with Roshan, an airship pilot, during the war. In an impulse, whirlwind romance, she joined him in his travels and quickly became an indespensible member of the crew and Roshan's partner. They were married during the war, but hesitated to start a family, fearing the kind of world they would be raising a child in while Roshan's mark kept him in duty. Over time, they found comfort in a future seemingly without children, though they pledged to do what they could to adopt or foster if the war ended with enough time for them to do so.

Valka was one of many overjoyed to see a time of peace, and hoped to start a proper life with her husband even with their age. Unfortunately, a series of malfunctions in their shared airship led to a crash that left both them and their crew grievously injured in a remote mountain range. Valka, having lost her right arm and with severe trauma to her entire right side, was barely conscious; she awoke hours later to her arm replaced and her injuries magically repaired, and to Roshan dead, having chosen to sacrifice himself to keep her alive. Most importantly to the House, his dragonmark was still present - a glowing brand on the arm grafted improperly to replace Valka's own.

Abruptly alone, dealing with the trauma of the crash and her own guilt in her survival being at Roshan's expense, she was taken to trial and found not guilty. Feeling cheated by this verdict and losing faith in both justice and the afterlife (after all, if a dragonmark was bound to a person's soul, what did it mean that she could now take power from it? Had she damned her lover to a kind of half-life, or worse, an eternal purgatory?) she threw herself into religion with a self-destructive determination, secretly hoping the gods would recognize her believed wrongdoing and judge her properly where mortal courts had failed.

When presented with an opportunity to sabotage the project that led to Roshan's death, she took it, taking control of the airship and going rogue with the intent to destroy it either by her own hand or by forcing any pursuers to take it down with her. At present, she is driving it as far from settlements as possible to achieve this goal with as little loss of life as possible, and does not know what she will do with herself when this act is complete.

For characterization purposes, her actions will be influenced by:

- Like The Back of Her Hand: even when the Revelation is being piloted by someone else, her long familiarity with it means she is incredibly difficult to catch off guard. In its current state, she would notice anything out of place on board; this will decrease as the ship is modified.

- Blindsided: her left eye, uncovered, is blind, while her right eye, covered by a patch, still functions. The patch dims light, but still allows her to see.

- Local Doctors Hate Her!: her right arm is entirely immobile on its own, but the brace can be locked into different positions (ex, she can lean on her elbow, but wouldn't be able to pick something up.). Her right leg is stiff, and she is able to strap it up so she's less likely to trip. She is used to moving around the Revelation on one or both legs, but prefers both on unfamiliar terrain.

- House, Not Home: Valka has little care for the interests of the dragonmarked Houses, and may be more likely to take actions that damage the resources or reputation of a House.

- A Ship That Loves You: Valka believes her husband's spirit is entwined with the ship's elemental, a belief that the House has intentionally used as leverage against her. If she cannot have the ship on her own terms, her alternative goal will be to destroy it and herself - but will put her life on the line to prevent others from damaging it.

- An Empty Nest: Valka has no contact with her extended family and has no reason to believe she has any living immediate relatives. She has formed few relationships since the Revelation's crash.

- The Soils of War: Valka does not want to fight, though she will if she must. Her anger is directed at herself, at the gods that failed her, and the Houses that force her into their service. She wants to escape it, to lick her wounds, and to rest; to discover what the world is becoming in a time of peace that she has not had the chance to know.

[frnchgirls]

warnings: brief mentions of violence, weapons, blood, lots of angst with fluff ending!!

benny brings a girl he recently started seeing to the bar with him one night. they met in some gas station parking lot when she approached him while he was taking a smoke break and filling up between rides. in an instant he fell for her laugh and her eyes and benny knows she's probably just attracted to his bike and his mystique but it's okay cause she likes him and that's all that really matters.

he introduces her to the guys and they're getting along and it's going so well. benny's practically buzzing with excitement as they drunkenly dance to some sappy country song on the jukebox. that is, until a fight breaks out. he doesn't get to see if it was started by those shithead renegades or the new members no one trusts or some random bums, but he swore he was bein' good today so after all the commotion why do his ribs ache and why is he coughing up blood?

benny looks down at his chest to see a knife sticking out of him and it's so surreal. it burns every time he breathes so he can't help but cry a little bit. he slumps to the ground and wonders if it's just his blurry vision or if the bar is really that empty now. johnny rushes over and kneels in front of him and benny is relieved for a fleeting moment before he shakily asks what happened and where everybody went.

"was an accident, kid. dickbag was aimin' for someone else. nobody wanted to stick around after ya got stabbed. most of 'em got a wife 'n kids depending on 'em now, y'know?" johnny explains with a frown, reaching out to hold him and wipe his mouth. benny understands but he's also so distraught cause that means the girl he was lovin' on is gone too and probably for good and all he's ever wanted is just for someone to care enough to stay.

he knows real well that bein' a vandal gets him into a lotta trouble, but he never even got that kinda love from his parents so is it too much to ask for? benny's cries turn into sobs and johnny just shushes him and gently rubs his back. "it's okay, benny. it's gonna be okay. real good what ya did, keepin' that knife in. the owner's got help on the way. i'll be right here with ya, kid. johnny's not goin' anywhere." he reassures, and benny's breakin' his poor old heart, but he has to at least stay strong until he gets him to the hospital.

of course, johnny keeps his word, and even while betty's relentlessly trying to get ahold of him, he's sleeping in a chair at benny's bedside with his jacket on top of him like a makeshift blanket. only cause he cares enough to stay.

[trickphotography2]

First and Goal

Hangman hosts a college football day for the Daggers, only to have Payback bring a history making Angel. (Hangman x female Reader fluff, no use of 'you')

Completely self-indulgant college football fic after seeing Glen and Danny at the Texas and Miami games last week. Fic contains some trash talking of Miami and Alabama. No physical description of the reader, callsign is Syla (pronounced like Cilla) and she's a Florida State fan.

Word count: 1.5K

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

Jake tore his eyes away from the television when the doorbell rang, huffing as the Game Day announcers stalled on making their prediction of who would win the Texas vs. Alabama game. Phoenix pushed away from the kitchen island where she and Coyote were grazing on the snacks he’d set out. 

“Come on, come on, come on,” he grumbled as two hosts picked Bama. Planting his hands on his hips, he pressed his lips into a thin line when Lee Corso called for the fight song to play, and the twang of Sweet Home Alabama started.

“Roll Tide, I guess,” came a sigh beside him. Jake’s gaze snapped to the woman, taking in her crimson shirt, Navy regulation bun, and furrowed brow as she watched the antics. 

“Hey, hey, hey! Oh no, wait a minute, wait a minute. That’s not the right song - play Texas’ song!” 

“Yes!” He pumped his fist as Corso put on the Hook’em head. 

“Thank Christ.”  

“Not rooting for your team?” he asked, facing her. She rolled her eyes, pointing towards the logo on her chest - a Seminole head.

“Might wanna get your eyes checked - garnet, not crimson.” A slight southern accent colored her words. “While I appreciate Bama for making Tim Tebow cry, their fans are insufferable. I’m ready for them to get taken down a peg. If the Longhorns are the ones to do it, I guess I’ll put up with more of the Gig ‘em nonsense.”

“Hook ‘em,” Jake corrected, and the smirk curving her lips made him think she knew exactly what she was doing. 

“Giving Hangman shit already, Syla?” Payback asked, tossing an arm over the woman’s shoulder. The woman grinned up at the pilot and raised an eyebrow. 

“I have no idea what you mean,” she laughed. Jake felt a shot of disappointment at the fond look that passed between the two. “But if you’re Hangman,” she added, turning her attention back towards Jake, “this is for you. Thanks for letting me crash.” She extended a bottle towards him - Wolcott bourbon, bottled in the bond.

“Thanks. Syla your name or callsign?” 

“Callsign.”

“You stationed here?”

“Soon, but I’m in town for the show.” 

“The…” he frowned, then nodded. “You’re a Blue Angel?”

“That I am.” The Blue Angels were the Navy’s flight demonstration team. Stationed at NAS Pensacola, they were the most high-profile squad that toured across the US. It’d made the news that they finally had their first female aviator on the team two years ago. “At least until the end of the tour, then I’m headed back to TOPGUN.”

“Oh, come on,” Fanboy grumbled, watching as the University of Miami quarterback was sacked. Across the kitchen, Syla pumped her fist and silently cheered while nursing her water bottle. Jake smirked into his beer. Fanboy and Syla had exchanged some good-natured shit-talking since Florida State and Miami were in the same conference and would be playing against one another later in the season. 

When she’d shared the story behind her callsign - Syla, short for See Ya Later Alligator - Fanboy had gone red in the face laughing as Jake chuckled.

“What’s so funny?” Bob asked. 

Heaving a sigh, Syla explained, “My team is FSU Seminoles. We hate the Florida Gators, and there was a Gators fan in FRS with me. Our COs got tired of us shit-talking the whole season and decided to punish us by making our callsigns have to do with our rivalry. So I’m Syla, and he’s Renegade after our mascot.” 

“At least it’s not Swamp,” Jake offered, thinking of how Gainesville, where the University of Florida was located, was nicknamed ‘The Swamp.’

“Yeah, that cost me 150 pushups.” 

“Run, run, run, run, run!” Syla screamed, jumping off the couch with Jake beside her. 

“Come on!” he yelled. When the player was tackled after a 40-yard run, he whooped and held a hand to Syla, who laughed and slapped his palm before leaning around him to high-five Fanboy. 

“Fuck. There’s three of them,” Phoenix grumbled. 

The afternoon passed into shouts of “He was wide fucking open!”, “No! Sit his ass down!”, “Where’s the damn flag?”, “Pass interference!” and “Find it! Find it!” During commercials, they quickly learned about one another - Syla was a Florida girl born and raised in Tallahassee. She’d graduated from FSU and attended as many games as possible during the last three years she’d been stationed in Pensacola. Touring with the Angels made it hard since she was on the road from March to November, but the constant travel was worth it to be the first female Blue Angel. She was looking forward to the stability of being an instructor at TOPGUN and not living out of her duffle bag.

Syla retrieved her uniform from Payback’s car at halftime and disappeared into the bathroom. “She’s nice,” Coyote told Payback as Jake stepped into his backyard. 

“She’s great. Pain in the ass perfectionist, but that’s what got her on the Angels.” 

“She’ll be a good trainer,” Phoenix added. “Have you seen that diamond maneuver they pull?” 

“So, how do you know each other?” Jake asked, glancing at Payback.

“We met in flight school and kept in touch from there.” 

“You guys…” Rooster cocked an eyebrow.

“Nooo,” Payback quickly replied, then shuddered. “She’s like a sister. A sister,” he repeated, pinning the other men with a stern, warning look.

A while later, the door opened, and Syla peeked out, her eyes meeting Jake’s. “They’re about to kick off.” 

“Be right in,” he smiled back. After collecting the empty beer bottles from his friends, he jogged back inside. Syla had swapped out her jean shorts and t-shirt for her dress white skirt, and white tank top. She declined another drink - she’d sipped a glass of bourbon earlier before switching to water, saying that she needed to be sharp for work later - but accepted a soda. 

The Daggers drifted in and out of the house, Payback sometimes joining them in the cheering squad, but Syla and Jake were glued to the game. When Texas threw a 39-yard touchdown to pull further ahead, Jake screamed and jumped around his living room, much to the amusement of his friends. Syla whooped and clapped, raising her hand for a high five. Their palms slapped, and his fingers curled around hers, giving a quick shake before collapsing beside her. His shoulders brushed against her as he leaned forward to rest his elbows on his knees, hands clasped and covering his mouth.

“We gotta head out soon if you’re gonna make the dinner,” Payback said as the game clock wound down. 

“Shit,” Syla groaned, glancing at her watch. Between plays, she quickly slipped on her blouse, lower lip between her teeth as she watched the action and did up the buttons. Jake couldn’t help but glance at her legs as she swayed beside him, their knees touching as she tucked in her shirt.

When the quarterback took a snap and dropped to his knee, Jake exploded off the couch, whooping as Texas won. Without thinking, his arms wrapped around a laughing Syla, lifting her off her feet as he celebrated his team beating the Crimson Tide on their home field.

“Syla, we really gotta go,” Payback said. 

“Fuck, okay, uh,” she said, stepping out of Jake’s reach and patting his shoulder. “Congrats on the win. It was nice meeting all of you. I’ll hopefully see you in a couple months if I don’t get reprimanded for being late for dinner with the top brass. Oh, and Fanboy - I’ll think of you when I’m in Doak for the game in November.”

Smirking, Fanboy held up his hands, his thumbs touching to make the Miami ‘U’ signal. She gave him a saccharine smile and did the same; all her fingers were down except her middle ones, so she flipped him off. “I’ll walk you out,” Jake offered, grabbing Syla’s bag from the dining room table. Payback narrowed his eyes at the other man. “It sucks you can’t watch your team play tonight.” 

“It’s fine,” she shrugged, “we played our hard game against LSU last week, and it’s an easy match-up this week. I’ll just duck into the bathroom and check the score every once in a while.” 

“What time do you fly tomorrow?”

“Gates open at 0800, and we’re the closer at 1520. Why, gonna come to the show, Hangman?”

“You never know,” he winked. “Heard the Angels do a pretty impressive diamond formation.” 

“18-inch clearance, wingtip to canopy,” she smirked. “If you come, I’ll be in the blue and yellow flight suit.”

“I’ll keep an eye out.” Chuckling, she took her bag, their fingers brushing and sending a pleasant tingling sensation up his spine. “Good to meet you, Syla.”

“You too, Hangman.” 

Payback paused beside Jake when she walked away and hissed, “No.”

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

Notes: The Blue Angels are based out of Pensacola and just welcomed their first female pilot in 2023 - callsign Stalin. I miss seeing them buzz the beaches and hear them practice in the afternoons. They tour the US and Canada, and the clips I've seen are phenomenal. If you haven't seen the pilot perspective of the tight diamond formation, I highly recommend it.

The 0800 and 1520 are military time, so it's 1520 is 3:20PM.

Read part 2, Overtime.

[gallifreyanhotfive]

Random Doctor Who Facts You Might Not Know, Part 48

The Eleventh Doctor and the Fifteenth Doctor once worked together in an attempt to free a woman named Nora Wicker from a time bubble, but before they could do so, Nora confided in the Eleventh and told him she wished to stay. (Audio: The World Tree)

The first alien planet Rose went to was Justice Alpha. Before that, she had only been to space stations and ships. (Novel: The Monsters Inside)

The Eleventh Doctor keeps the Second's recorder in his pocket sometimes. (Novel: Shroud of Sorrow)

Chad Boyle frequently tormented Ace as a child. At one point, he almost hit her with a brick, but he was stopped by an older version of Ace. If he had hit the younger Ace, he would have killed her. (Novel: Timewyrm: Revelation)

There are several academic cities on Gallifrey, including Prydos, Patrexi, and Arcalia. (Novel: The Garden of Evil)

The Oldharbour Clock is a really old clock near the Capitol on Gallifrey. It is intricately decorated with little figures that dance with every chime of the hour. These figures, however, gained sentience and are actually the most intelligent beings on the entire planet. (Novel: The Infinity Doctors)

Lake Abydos on Gallifrey is home to singing fish. Romana's family spent a lot of time here, and she used to swim in the water when she was young. (Audio: Neverland)

After being resurrected, the Celestial Intervention Agency allowed the Master to read up on the Doctor’s past, making him aware of what happened to Lucie, Tamsin, and Alex. (Audio: Masterplan) This also means the Master is probably aware of any major events in the Doctor’s life from before that time as well.

The Doctor once saved Peter Capaldi from a Mandrel and Peter Davison from a Krynoid. (Comic: The Girl Who Loved Doctor Who)

The Eleventh Doctor said that the TARDIS has a GPS with the voice of Davros. (Audio: Trouble in Paradise)

Leela had a sister named Ennia, who was killed by Horda at three years old before Leela was born. Their mother killed the Horda with a knife, the same one Leela carries. (Novel: Eye of Heaven)

Ophiuchus was a Time Lord healer who managed to overcome the regeneration cycle limit on thirteen incarnations. For this, the High Council declared him a renegade, claiming that he had to do things such as vivisection to extend the lives of Gallifreyan criminals. (Comic: Ophiuchus)

Some Time Tots keep rovies as pets. (Audio: No Place Like Home)

Susan was 97 when she applied to Coal Hill School. (Novel: The Time Lord Letters)

Jane Templeton was a trainee Time Lord attending the Academy. She got stranded in Ancient Egypt and lost her TARDIS, which had taken on the appearance of a shabti figure. By the time she found her TARDIS, she was in her thirteenth incarnation, and her TARDIS was so degraded that the Seventh Doctor said it should be euthanized, which would involve flying it into the heart of a star. Since she had impersonated the god Thoth, she was guilty of class 2 intervention, the punishment for which is vaporization. Instead of letting the Doctor save her, she slipped into her own TARDIS and died with it. (Audio: False Gods)

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[h50europe]

9-1-1 - Black Hawk Down

(Helicopter crash, Angst)

It was supposed to be a routine flight. Tommy climbed into the cockpit of the UH-60M Black Hawk and immediately felt like he had never left. He put on his helmet, grabbed the checklist and started to run it. Tommy remembered his tours in Afghanistan and Iraq and how this beast had become one of his closest comrades. Beast, he chuckled. That was Evan's nickname for him. He owned it to their first night together, where Tommy surprised Evan with his stamina and some other tricks that had left the younger man craving for more and sending him into the stratosphere as he came hard while a multiple orgasm ripped through him.

Tommy bit his lower lip as his blood rushed south, reminding himself that he had a job to do and needed to focus. He flipped switches, checked the tanks, and meticulously followed the entire list. When he was done, he placed it in the co-pilot's seat and hit the start button. The twin General Electric T700-GE-701 turboshaft engines, each rated at 1,560 shaft horsepower, roared to life. The sound of the mighty blades was like music to Tommy's ears. He wished Evan could be with him, but he got a call about an hour ago and was ordered to the station. A fire at an industrial plant was threatening to get out of control. Dispatch had ordered all available engines to the scene. Tommy's only mission today was to fly the Black Hawk to Renegade airfield near Vegas. It should be a smooth flight. The weather forecast promised clear blue skies. A little turbulence was expected, but nothing troubling.

Tommy felt the familiar vibrations caused by the whirling rotor blades. Flying a Black Hawk was so different from the helicopters they used at LAFD Air Operations. Tommy radioed the tower and asked for a VFR departure: "Echo Lima Foxtrot, VFR departure east at or below 1,500 feet."

The tower replied: "Echo Lima Foxtrot, stay east of runway 10/28 at all times, east departure approved. You are cleared for takeoff from taxiway Bravo."

There was a static crackle, then a familiar voice came on and said, "Ground Control to Major Tom, have a save flight."

Tommy cackled, "I have no idea how you did that, Hen, but you rock."

"Copy that," she replied with a big smile on her face.

Hen was sitting in the tower next to one of the controllers. She had been training some of the employees in first aid today and had heard about Tommy and his Vegas trip. Grinning, she leaned back and watched him take off and then transition.

The estimated flight time was about 1.5 hours. Tommy felt relaxed and looked forward to the upcoming flight. He knew that flying over the desert could be challenging due to the absence of reference points and the constantly shifting sand caused by the wind. However, he was prepared to rely on his instruments to navigate through these conditions.

As the routine flight progressed, the atmosphere changed when the Black Hawk's responder signal was abruptly lost, and the helicopter vanished from the radar. Strangely, there was no distress call from Tommy. Meanwhile, Hen was packing her bags when she suddenly became aware of the chaos unfolding in the tower.

[powderblueblood]

I know this has been done a million and one times, but Eddie just vibing at the gas station. Something inevitably goes wrong. Please and thanks dear Powder

jo my love i present to you 1k+ words of eddie munson's no good very bad wednesday night no warnings! just silly. and acab includes hopper

So it's eight thirty on a Wednesday night, the very armpit of the week, and Eddie's standing there under the glare of the gas station fluorescents. Right in the heart of the snack aisle.

"What's become apparent to me, Sam, is-is-is-is that it's fear. It's the iron claw of the bonds of being a scaredy-cat little bitch that has stunted me fundamentally."

Loaded. So stoned he's stalagmite.

"See, I'm a capable guy. Many capes have I, but it's like, I've finally mastered the fuck-you-chip-on-my-shoulder adolescent thing that I'm reluctant to let it go. I'm skirting around putting on my big boy pants. I'm failing my courses. I'm dumbing myself down to stick around high school, seemingly, on purpose. Because I'm afraid!"

Eddie's pouring his heart out to the narcoleptic octogenarian cashier, the guy that likely built this place out of shiplap and bullet casings way back when it was a horseshit stop for Buffalo Bill's Wild West Freak Show or whoever.

"And I know what you're thinking." Sam isn't thinking anything. Sam's sleeping with his eyes wide open. "Why not really, grr, take root with that family tree, huh? Drop out like my old man and my uncle did? Well, I'll tell ya--"

Eddie wonders, in the middle of his own sentence, what it'd be like to hitch his wagon to an operation like that and coast solely on being a moorless weirdo.

He's really stoned, okay?

"--high school is easy to fail in. Real life? Isn't."

And look, before you get all, he's got good reason. It's been a particular drag of a week, a real sandpaper to the balls kind of kick off. Corroded Coffin's Tuesday night engagement at the Hideout was a special kind of bust--not least of all because the slapdash stage finally gave way under all that threatening creaking, and almost took Jeff's neck with it.

The neck of his bass and his human body. Neither of which Jeff's ass is in any position to fix.

So Eddie's got a band that's bruised and barely in the pocket, and a mouth that won't stop running.

“WSQK 94.5, The Squawk!” Eddie echoes the radio, complete with eagle screech, as the opening chords of Renegade by Ted Nugent & the Amboy Dukes pick up. "Hawk-ening right back to a time when Ted Nugent hadn't yet sold all his actual guitaristry to that pissant Wango Tango-ing... You know what, man, this is it!"

His ringed hands come down on the counter all a-clatter, chip crumbs flying out the bag he hasn't quite paid for yet.

"Lock me in a room full of records under a radio tower and throw away the key, I mean, I would be good to fucking go. None of that shock-jock shit, either. I'd play nothing but real music. The Hawkins Midnight Rambler, huh?" But Sam isn't paying sufficient enough attention. "Think I got a face for radio, Sammy?" Because he's asleep.

It takes a couple of molasses-slow moments for Eddie to register this, he himself still working through his own big sluggishness. I mean, damn, even waving a hand in front of the old man's face is an effort.

He's out, though, like a light. Makes Eddie wonder how this place stays open, much less unrobbed.

Well. Careful what you wish for there, buddy.

His hand is slinking toward a Three Musketeers, ready to nab it from the shelf right under old Sam's nose and write him a little IOU for whenever he next has the cash, but Eddie senses a shuffling behind him.

"Put your fuckin' hands in the air!"

Oh? "Dude, what?"

There's this guy behind him, this guy whose corporeal form Eddie can't be a bajillion percent sure isn't, like, a vivid hallucination, with pantyhose tugged over his face. Poking a pistol around under the cover of his camo jacket. The whole bit.

"Put your hands in the air or I put a hole through ya, asshole! You too, old man!"

Eddie tuts, hands still very much hovering near that candy bar.

"What's the fucking hold up, you and your grandpa tryin' to get shot or somethin?!" this very serious masked assailant demands.

"He's asleep, guy," Eddie says. "He can't hear you."

"What?!" our villain splutters, "Well... wake the fuck up! I ain't got all day and I want what's in that reg--"

He goes to point his still-concealed fuckin' sharp shooter or whatever it is he has at Sam's face, and Eddie, with this strange surge of protectiveness and complete buffoonery, nudges his arm away.

"Don't! Number one, dude's a narcoleptic, you could give him a heart attack if you just woke him up like that--number two, I saw him pull a sawed off from under that counter one time and you're in way closer range so the hole he blows through you is gonna be, like, way bigger and... like, he'll kill you and shit. Be cool."

The would-be thief groans. Oh, god, Eddie just knows he thought this hit job would be way easier. In and out, quick and dirty, wham-bam-thank you Sam.

Eddie nearly laughs. He does laugh, actually, because he's still super-mega fucking high and can't exactly control the noises that come out of his mouth, so next thing the dude is rounding on him with the thing in his pocket. Eddie actually puts his hands up this time. Feels a cold shock go through him somewhere that he really hopes isn't piss.

You ever get that? Get so stoned you constantly think you're peeing yourself? Anyway.

"Get the fuck behind the counter! If the old man can't open the register for me, you're gonna do it!"

"But I don't know how." Liar. Lying ass. Eddie knows how to work a goddamn register. It's not like he's tucking that money from the Hideout straight into his garter belt. Though he could. Maybe he should. Maybe he should buy a garter b--

"I'm gonna tell you how, dickhead!"

"What's in it for me?"

"Is that a fucking joke, wise guy?"

Only kinda. Closed mouths never get fed. "Worth a shot."

But Eddie doesn't really love this dude's tone, so he obediently scoots behind the counter, and almost gets distracted by all the copies of Penthouse Sam is keeping back here. He knew the bastard was holding out on him.

"Um..." Eddie gingerly starts, hands just sort of floating in the direction of the register in a way he hopes to Christ won't disturb Sam and wake him into a world of cardiac calamity.

So the guy tells him what buttons to push, clearly a man of the trade, a fellow familiar with wiling countless hours away behind a counter, which makes Eddie be all, why don't you steal from your own job, you shyster and keeps hitting the wrong buttons on purpose.

But dear old Sammy must have this thing rigged to make Eddie look like an asshole, because out pops the fucking drawer anyhow!

This guy, the pantyhose head, the robber, lets out an honest-to-god yippee! as he reaches over to snatch that cash.

And Eddie, working solely on instinct at this point, narrows his lovely red-rimmed eyes and shoves the drawer right in on the unlucky fuck's fingers.

He screams. And Eddie screams. And something falls out of his pocket. And Eddie leans over the counter, expecting to see and hear the shiny clatter of a pistol hit the lino.

But there is no such hardware.

It was a banana in his pocket. He was not happy to see you.

"What the fuck, man!" they chorus in near unison. They could have been brothers in another life, says some disembodied voice in the back of Eddie's head.

But then, something yellow flies towards Eddie's face and the shock of it knocks him right back into the lotto tickets and cigarettes. Thunk! His head knocks far too hard against the fire extinguisher and now there's two unconscious guys behind the counter.

Now, I don't know if you've ever had a banana thrown in your face by a masked assailant before, but I would call that something of an overreaction.

Anyway, he wakes up to police sirens and that Callaghan dweeb hauling him up by the front of his Hellfire shirt.

"Sshsjesus, Officer Handsy, buy a guy dinner first," Eddie slurs, head pounding. Callaghan's dorky Buddy Holly glasses have an aura around them that he unconsciously tries to swat away.

"He's resisting arrest!" Callaghan yells.

"Keep it down, I have a headache!" Eddie blinks once, twice, twenty-million times and is still having a tough time taking stock of his surroundings. Cash drawer's open and empty, and Sam is nowhere to be seen. "Didja catch the guy or what? He had a banana gun. Threw it right at me."

"Pipe down. Edward Munson, you're under arrest for armed robbery--"

"--wait, hold on--"

"--endangering the elderly--"

"--hold the fuck on!"

"--and swearing at a police officer!" Callaghan clicks the cuffs on and Eddie's about to burst, he's so mad and his head is pounding with such a fury. Shuffling him out into the forecourt and into the squad car like some kind of penguin idiot!

"That last thing isn't even real!" he spits, "None of this is real--I was trying t--fuck, did you not hear me about the banana gun?!"

"Reminds me to drug test him when we get back to the station," Callaghan puffs as he slides into the passenger seat.

"No one's drug testing anybody," Chief Hopper grumbles from behind the wheel. "We don't even have those facilities. Plus, kid doesn't even have any of that stolen cash on him."

"Thank you!" Eddie barks from his seat in the back. He can't really seem to sit upright, and he doesn't know whether to contribute that to the lump that's risen on the back of his head or the drugs that are definitely still in his system.

"W--well, why are we arresting him, then?" Callaghan blubs. Which is actually a salient point.

The Chief shrugs. "I'unno. Wednesday night. Somethin' to do."

[whovian223]

April 2023 Gaming

April 2023 Gaming - Thanks to @BGStatsApp! @gmtgames @PlayRenegade @direwolf @czechgames @StrongholdGames

[sexiestpodcastcharacter]

Sexiest Podcast Character — Scripted Bracket — Round 2

Propaganda

Keisha (Alice Isn't Dead):

She has a big truck. She broke into a police station. She’s gay. Truly she is the most of all time.

Canonically lesbian and anxious, fighting eldritch abominations while crossing America in a big rig all in search of her wife.

Yaretzi (Hello From The Hallowoods):

Hot werewolf lady

HEY NOW! Yaretzi is a hot post apocalyptic monster hunting LESBIAN space werewolf lady who is in a relationship with a space vampire literally just called The Countess, who is herself in a long feud with Dracula, who runs a biker gang.

She runs a magical hotel with her queer platonic life partner, a renegade demon who gives off exceptional queer vibes.

Together they are raising their adopted child, who is a decaying human skeleton inside a 9 foot tall suit of monster slaying power armor. He, in turn, is taking care of his pet seagull, who is a zombie. Also the seagull is simultaneously both one bird and an entire flock of zombie seagulls.

Anyway, Yaretzi has been hunting monsters for her star god for a very long time, and she is hot and deserves to win.

Werewolf who made a pact with a star deity to kill conquistadors

Spends centuries hunting demons and eating their hearts

Guides the only demon she failed to kill into a sense of his own personhood, adopted a son together, then started dating one of her traditional ancient enemies (hot vampire lady)

Smokey growly voice, grows huge when she transforms, fierce and loving and terrifying