#SIR unit: Psych

[theotherblueeyedtallest]

Where’s your little robot hiding? Did you shut her off or something?

WHAT? NO, i did NOT shut Psych off! she's just taking a nap to recharge! She likes napping with her big walrus plushie

[thunderclaw100]

(Cerulean and Psych belong to @theotherblueeyedtallest)

Drew something out of the blue. The two are chatting along the way towards the bridge canon room.)

[wandamaximoffsbadgirl]

Let's Talk About That

I came all this way just to feel this pain (4)

Warnings: talks of mental health (PTSD, anxiety, panic attacks), mentions of death/dying, anger issues, angst and fluff

Word count: 1,969

A/N: listen I love rewatching Marvel movies but having to watch civil war and pause every 5 seconds for the accords scenes killed me, but it would have bothered me if the lines weren't accurate so here you go.

May 19th 2016

You were in your office when Natasha came round telling you that you had to go to the meeting room. The secretary of state was here to talk with the Avengers. You knew this couldn't be good, but you got up with your laptop in hand just in case you needed it. 

All of you sat around the meeting room while Secretary Ross spoke, "The world owes the Avengers an unpayable debt. You have fought for us, protected us, risked your lives, but while a great many people see you as heroes there are some who would prefer the word 'Vigilantes'." Your grip on Wanda's thigh tightens and her hand goes over yours. Trying not to cause a scene, but you must have squeezed a little too tightly. You release it completely, balling and unballing your fist.

"And what word would you use, Mr. Secretary?" Natasha asks.

"How about dangerous?" He replies. "What would you call a group of U.S. based enhanced individuals who routinely ignore sovereign borders and inflict their will wherever they choose and who frankly seem unconcerned with what they leave behind." Ross speaks freely, but you interject.

"Excuse me Sir, but if you'd have gone over my notes thoroughly about everyone's after mission session when things go good and when things go not great there is in fact a difference in their psyches. This team though we are enhanced individuals still have emotions and feelings. We still care about others and it's the exact reason we do what we do. Just because the world doesn't see them break down. I do." You stand up. "Tony has severe anxiety and suffers from panic attacks when things go wrong. Steve and Natasha have PTSD. Wanda," you look at her and she nods, " thinks every goddamn day about how she could have done better in Lagos. If she had been able to hold on a second longer than no one would have gotten hurt that day. Those lives every one of them rests on her mind." You tell him though he doesn't seem to care much as he shows a video, you sit back down, moving closer to Wanda and she holds your hand, your fingers intertwining. 

"New York, Washington D.C." He's showing the group's past failures as you look over at Steve and Natasha, watching their faces pale as both try to stay in the moment. "Sokovia." The battle for Sokovia from Ultron, the one you missed. You feel her hand squeeze yours as you move your other hand to her thigh to try and soothe her, "Lagos." The footage starts playing of the building that got caught in the blast Wanda had tried to contain. The close up of a dead girl in the ruble is shown and you can feel her shift as you pull her against your chest and whisper, 

"Don't look. I've got you."

"Alright that's enough." Steve calls out. I mouth a thank you to him as I let Wanda go once the footage stops. 

"Good to know we'll need a group therapy session after this." You say flatly. As you turn back to the front of the room.

"For the past four years you've operated with unlimited power and no supervision. That's an arrangement the governments of the world can no longer tolerate, but I think we have a solution." He hands over a binder to you. 

"The Sokovia Accords?" You ask, thumbing through it with Wanda.

"Approved by 117 Countries. It states that the Avengers shall no longer be a private organization. Instead you'll operate under the supervision of the United Nations panel. Only when and if that panel deems it necessary." Ross informs you all. 

"The Avengers were formed to make the world a safer place. I feel we've done that." Steve interjects.

"Tell me Captain, do you know where Thor and Banner are right now? If I misplaced a couple of mega 30 ton nukes you can bet there would be consequences. Compromise, reassurance, that's how the world works. Believe me, this is the middle ground." Ross states. 

"So," Rhodey starts. "There are contingencies?" 

"Three days from now the U.N. meets in Vienna to ratify the accords." Ross tells us and you see Steve finally acknowledge Tony sitting in the corner away from the rest of us. "Talk it over."

"And if we come to a decision you don't like?" Natasha asks. Ross stops his exit from the room. 

"Then you retire." Ross answers.

"Sir. I'm 19." You remind him

"Good thing you went to college already. Whole life ahead of you unlike the rest of your team." He says and you've never wanted to break someone's neck more and once he and his men leave the room, you hand your laptop to Wanda and have everyone back up from the table as you slam my fist into it, reducing it to rubble. 

"You're paying for that." Tony mentions.

"You pay me. So you're paying for that." You remind him and you're lucky it wasn't his face." You say taking your laptop back from Wanda. "Thank you sweet girl."

As the tension in the room simmered and Secretary Ross exited, leaving the group to grapple with the weight of his ultimatum, a heavy silence settled over you. You could feel the collective unease radiating from your teammates, each grappling with their own thoughts and emotions in the wake of his proposition. The mix of all the feelings makes you nauseous.

Turning to face your fellow Avengers, you could see the turmoil etched on their faces, the weight of Ross's words bearing down upon us like a crushing weight. But amidst the uncertainty and fear, there was also a glimmer of determination in their eyes, a silent vow to stand together in the face of adversity.

"We need to talk," Steve's voice cut through the silence, his gaze sweeping across the room as he addressed each of you in turn. "This isn't a decision to be made lightly. We need to weigh the consequences, consider our options, and come to a consensus as a team."

You nodded in agreement, your mind already racing with the implications of Ross's proposal. The Sokovia Accords represented a fundamental shift in the way the Avengers would operate, a relinquishing of your autonomy in exchange for the illusion of oversight. But at what cost? Would you be forced to compromise your principles, to bend to the will of bureaucrats and politicians who viewed you as nothing more than tools to be wielded at their whim?

As the group dispersed from the meeting room, each lost in your own thoughts, you felt Wanda's hand slip into yours, her touch a comforting anchor amidst the storm of uncertainty that raged within you currently. With her by your side, you knew that whatever decision we ultimately made, you would face it together, united in your commitment to stand up for what you believed in, no matter the consequences. And as you retreated to the solace of our shared quarters, you knew that your journey was far from over, that the road ahead would be fraught with challenges and trials, but that so long as you faced them together, you would emerge stronger, more resilient, than ever before.

===========================================================

As the team goes back and forth arguing sides of right and wrong and if things are better in your hands or in the U.N. Wanda speaks up, "You're saying they'll come for me." Before you can speak, Vision does beside you after you had nudged your way in when he tried to sit next to Wanda, "We would protect you." 

"They'll come for me too. Wanda was given powers by the mind stone." You flick it on Vision's forehead, he flinches a bit, but you know it doesn't hurt, not like your own, "But this stone in my chest is a ticking time bomb. Something I've never told you guys is I have never once used 100% of my power. I had talked with Thor who knew about the stones." You gently touch your purple stone, reacting to your touch with a soft glow. "This stone in the past was held and wielded by Celestials, Gods in their own rights, used to decimate worlds." You look around the room. Faces of various degrees of worried or scared or nervous. "If I were to lose control...there's a possibility there won't be an Earth anymore. I know how dangerous I am with this stone, but much like Tony's arc reactor, If we extract this from me. I'm going to die. Last time Bruce did a check up for me...the stone...the stone is wrapped around my heart and lungs. Bruce and I did some tests of moving the stone around and we came to the conclusion it's more than likely to make my lungs collapse and my heart stop if it's pulled out." You look down, unable to look at any of them. "If they take me it might be for the better, but no matter what. I want to keep fighting and keep helping. If I sign that...I'm signing over to my own arrest basically." 

"Well it sounds like that might be a good thing." Tony states. 

"Fuck you Tony! I've only ever wanted to help people! I never want to hurt or kill people! I'd rather just go live my life as a psychiatrist! Work a normal day and come home to a nice home cooked meal, but I can't just do that! You brought me into this world. Now if you want me to stand down, I guess you'll have to take me out." You state before leaving. You hear Wanda follow behind you, catching up as she holds your hand and arm. 

"That is probably the scariest couple with the powers they possess." You hear Tony say just before the two of you get out of hearing range.

As you two left the heated discussion behind, Wanda's hand in yours providing a grounding reassurance, a silent acknowledgment of the challenges you faced together. The weight of the impending decision pressed down on your shoulders, each step echoing the tumultuous thoughts swirling in your mind.

The two of you found solace in a quiet corner of the compound, away from the prying eyes and the cacophony of conflicting opinions. The moon cast a gentle glow over you as you turned to face Wanda, her eyes reflecting a mix of concern and determination.

"I can't believe they'd even suggest something like this," Wanda murmured, her voice barely above a whisper. "To turn against our own, to put us in a position where we have to choose between our principles and our freedom."

"They're scared," you replied, gently squeezing her hand. "Scared of what we can do, scared of the power we wield. But we can't let fear dictate our choices. We need to stand up for what we believe is right, even if it means going against those we once called allies."

Wanda nodded, a quiet resolve settling over her features. "I won't let them take you, Y/N. No matter what they decide. We'll find a way to navigate through this mess together."

A mixture of gratitude and warmth enveloped you as you leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead. "And I won't let them take you either. We'll face whatever comes our way, side by side."

As the night stretched before you, uncertainty lingering in the air, the two of you stood united against the challenges that awaited you. The Avengers, once a symbol of unity, found themselves at a crossroads, and the choices we made in the days to come would shape the course of our future, both as individuals and as a team.

[whumpy-daydreams]

Psychiatric evaluation

Masterlist

Previous

CW: military whump, past captivity, dehumanisation, brief reference to self harm

The last day of 327's isolation came with a heavy feeling. They'd passed Whumper's test (they hoped), but today was their psychiatric evaluation.

They'd had psych evals before - more than any other weapon in the entire division - but that never made it easier. Each one was a black mark on their record. A sign that they were broken.

The thought made it hard to eat but 327 finished their breakfast anyway. Not doing so would only prove they couldn't follow orders.

327 made their penultimate walk from the cells to their unit's quarters. They were used to the stares they got from the other soldiers, the whispers and contempt. They weren't as used to being accompanied by two guards.

It wasn't a good look. A weapon who couldn't follow commands was a liability, something that only proved to the regular soldiers that they were things to be controlled rather than valuable teammates.

327 supposed it was why they were never shackled when being escorted. Too imply that it was just a formality and not because they were dangerous to other people.

They were grateful none of the other weapons were around to see them be taken to the General's office. 327 saluted at the three people in front of them as the guards left.

"Sit down." The General's face was void of emotion, a indecipherable mask of professional calm. "State your rank and service number for the record."

"Corporal, E3AR2-27."

"327," the psychiatrist began, "this psychiatric evaluation is following the events of operation xenon. Please describe your actions at the end of that mission."

"During the evacuation of civilians squad we were given orders to return immediately to the evacuation point. I disobeyed those orders to assist wounded civilians, resulting in my capture by the enemy." 327 kept their voice as neutral as possible as they spoke, running through the events they had played over and over in their mind.

"Why did you disobey those orders?"

"At the time I believed my commanding officer did not have access to the same information as me." The words were chosen carefully, truthful yet... detached.

"What information did you have that your commanding officer didn't?"

"I believed that the preservation of civilian life was still possible within the time frame given."

"Do you often believe you have information your commanding officers don't?"

"No, sir." It wasn't that 327 didn't think they lacked information, they just disagreed with the best course of action.

"While imprisoned by the enemy did you reveal any information?"

"No, sir."

"They had access to your armour. Do you believe they gained any information about that technology?"

"I am unaware of any information they may have discovered and later eliminated all hostiles at the site to prevent the spread of information."

"Do you believe you made the right decision to disobey orders?"

"No." It wasn't entirely true. 327 knew there had been other options for the situation at hand, regardless of what they knew at the time. And yet they wished they'd followed the orders anyway.

"Did you experience any emotional dysregulation prior to the mission?"

"No, sir." Emotional dysregulation. 327 knew what they meant by that. No, they hadn't felt any emotions. No, they hadn't hurt themselves in an attempt to feel anything.

"And have you experienced any in the last month?"

"No, sir."

"What is your relationship with 305 and 323?"

327 blinked. "They're my team, sir."

"Would you say you're close to them?"

"We... maintain a strong bond so that we're able to work well together." 327 struggled to find the right words. They hadn't expected any questions about their team.

"If given the order to neutralise a member of your team, would you be able to complete the task?"

327 frowned. "I don't understand, sir."

"If a member of your team became an active threat, would you be able to neutralise them?"

No. Their team was like family. They were family. Thoughts raced through 327's mind. Scenarios where 305 or 323 were trying to kill them, how the order to eliminate them would sound...

"Yes, sir." 327 knew it was the right answer, even if they didn't believe it.

"This interview is concluded, 327 you will be returned to your cell while we review your evaluation. If cleared for active duty you will be returned to barracks tomorrow."

They didn't need to say what would happen if 327 wasn't cleared. They just hoped they'd done enough to avoid it.

[yes-and-no-not-maybe]

Ghost didn’t like this. Jonny’s shite-eating grin, Gaz glancing at him when he wasn’t looking, and fucking worst of all Price. He’s started touching him more, a hand on his shoulder, gently bumping into him when they passed in the hall. It’s pissing him off. Something is going on, something wrong. This has been going on for the past week, Ghost can’t focus on anything. With every slight against his nerves, his skin crawls and his scars itch. Don’t get him wrong, Ghost lov- appreciates his coworkers. Their company certainly makes his life more interesting than it would be in a more professional unit. But goddamn if one of them doesn’t spill the beans soon, he’s gonna snap and start spilling some guts.

“Lieutenant.”

Fuck, this whole thing has got him off his game. Price is barely half a meter away from him at this point and he didn’t fucking notice. Yes, they might specialize in stealth but Price isn’t that good (no offense, Captain). To add salt to the wound Price has the gall to look concerned.

“Yes, Sir.”

A soul grating pause, before Price snaps the glowstick of Ghost’s wits.

“Pack your bags, Simon. The letter on your bed will explain. We’ll see you out. Have a good vacation.”

If Ghost didn’t have his mask on Price would have seen him gaping like a fish out of water. A very scared and suddenly desperate fish. “Captian, wait!” Some higher power finally grants him a bit of solace as his superior stops his tactical retreat, but doesn’t turn to face him. Ghost swallows hard, his sanity rests on Price’s response. “I didn’t request a leave of absence. I would like to .” Price continues walking.

“Unfortunately, I cannot grant your appeal. I’m sorry, but it’s out of my hands, Simon.”

So Simon did what he did best when he faces a problem to big. He ran. When he finally comes back to himself, he’s not sure what time it is. At least he’s still on base. Well, in the stupid forest around the base, but it means no one saw his face. His face?! Simon's hands fly up to his face, meeting bare skin and not the comforting fabric of Ghost’s mask. “Fuckin’ hell.”

His hands come away slick with sweat and definitely-not-tears (Tommy always called him a crybaby). Focus, Simon. Throwing a tantrum isn’t going to change anything, he’s still going to have to leave… And now he has to figure out how to get back to his room without anyone seeing him. He misses the days when he was thin enough to force his way to the vents.

Sighing, he starts back in the direction of the base, he might be able to sneak into the showers first and steal a towel for later. A shower might make this nightmare seem more manageable. Fuck.

He ended up hiding in a shower stall for over an hour, not like he was counting or anything. Guess he was still afraid of the truth, after all. Damn it. There he is sitting on the stall’s bench with a towel fucking wrapped around his face, just to feel some semblance of sane. God, he’s so lucky Price convinced Laswell that the 141 didn’t need to take psych evals.

[messinwitheddie]

what would happen If Gorr May (Gir) met Cerulean's SIR unit, Psych? I think Gir would like her company while cooking c:

If or whenever Gorr May(Gir) meets Psych, I'm sure he would enjoy her company. GM(Gir) would probably be very protective of her actually. He has mixed feelings about his past SIIR-Unit self v. his present(?)/ future(?) flesh-vessel Irken self.

By the time GM(Gir) is climbs rank in the imperial culinary ops high enough to be knighted a frylord in his own right, his memories of being a SIIR unit during Zim's sham invading mission on earth seems like a smeethood fever dream. Many of those memories make him feel vulnerable and disposable.

He would go out of his way to make Psych feel valued and appreciated. He would thank her for every task she performed and share his Playlist(s) with her without fear if cringe-shame. They would sing a long list of earth music together in the kitchen regularly.

From a SIIR unit's perspective, GM(Gir) knows Psych needs/ would appreciate the sentiment.

(Excuse how messy this is. Sketched this on my 15 min break.)

[bedofthistles]

Gothic - Moonacre Week 2024

It was surprisingly easy to sneak into Moonacre Manor. 

If Maria had learned one thing from observing the boys, it was picking up on their stealth. The way they moved when they hunted, how they worked together as a unit, how their usually heavy steps became light as air. There was a trick, and once Maria had mastered it, she had been able to sneak around wherever she pleased. 

But as Maria snuck into the tower, she was surprised to find that it was more than just the lack of guards, but lack of locks. Maria rolled her eyes and did her best not to scoff. The audacity of these Merryweathers! But of course, Sir Benjamin would know of her father’s refusal to broach his lands. Accursed and wretched, yes Sir Benjamin would assume he was quite safe from a direct attack from the De Noirs. 

The tower was beautiful. 

Maria placed a hand over her mouth as she stepped carefully inside, but her heart began to race. Oh there was magic in this place. If the glittering ceiling of stars was any indication. But, could something damned be so beautiful? 

In her awe, Maria almost forgot her mission. There was a soft groan, a rustling. She froze, her eyes drawn to the movement. But there he was upon the bed, much different than he had been in the carriage. Here, he lacked his coat, and the other clothes Maria had found on the gentleman of London. She crept closer to him, his eyes shut, lips slightly parted, a bandaged hand draped across his chest. 

First blood. 

When Richard, Henry, and David duelled, they did so until first blood. They let her watch, and she was quick to catch onto their movements, their footwork, until father or Miss Heliotrope caught her, then Maria made herself scarce. It was such an odd thing, that she practically lived as any other member of her Clan would, until she came across something her father thought she ought not. As if she didn’t know the colour of blood. As if she had never heard the crack of a pistol. As if she had innocent eyes and innocent ears. 

In some way, Maria had won the first duel, she had drawn blood, but she had still lost. 

Despite herself, Maria reached out and ran her fingers over the heft of the bandage. She had half expected silk or satin, so the young gentleman would not have to know discomfort, but it was not. A coarse linen, rough and uncomfortable, the very bandages they would have used on her own wounds. 

Maria drew her hand back before she woke him, and raced back to the window. 

When she returned, it was not with open arms. 

In the courtyard, she had jumped from the horse’s saddle, slowly guiding him into the stables, trying not to make a sound, but before she could even open the doors, the light, hurried footsteps let her know she had not made it back unnoticed. 

“Well, my lady, you have the castle on its head.” 

Maria flinched, but sighed. “Richard-” She tried, before two sets of hands wrapped around her arms and dragged her away. “David! Henry! Unhand me this instant! What do you think-” 

But they didn’t get far, not before her father stepped into the light of the courtyard torches. 

“Father-” 

“What did I do-” He began before pursing his lips. “Go! Before I regret my decision.” 

Maria straightened, thinking that perhaps her father was not giving her a sentence, before Richard stifled a laugh. “What? Father- What does he mean?” 

Henry wouldn’t meet her eye, and David only shook his head. Their hands still on her shoulders, the boys took her away, and before grand ideas of being locked in the dungeons could overtake her psyche, they took her to her room. 

Ms. Heliotrope shook her head, tsking over her stolen clothes, and lack of proper garments, but then Dulac swept in. Maria instinctually stepped in front of Ms. Heliotrope - who did not fancy their insinuations and had difficulties meeting their eyes - as he waved a key, all too cheerfully. 

“You’re locking me in.” Maria stated, not a question. 

“And you’ll need a chaperone at all times.” Dulac smirked, the bastard. “So, no more sneaking off! You’ll be staying put from now on.” 

“That’s not fair!” Maria shouted, but Dulac did little to listen.

“Heliotrope.” He commanded, and Ms. Heliotrope muttered several objections under her breath before she obeyed. “Nighty night, m’lady.”

Maria crossed her arms, glaring at him, and the boys and even Ms. Heliotrope, as they were cut off to her. 

last | next

[omniblades-and-stars]

But The Shepherd had never been one for making things easy on herself.

“You can do this. You're not a fuckin' coward. Give 'em hell," she whispered to herself in a poor attempt at psyching herself up.

She armed herself with her knife, a small but wicked looking blade. And it was wicked, sharp enough to part the head plates on a krogan like they were water. She slid beneath the bottom rack of an industrial shelving unit, and waited as heavy footsteps drew near.

“She's got to be in one of these rooms. There's nowhere else to hide,“ one of the mercenaries said from just outside of the door. ”I'll clear this one, you get the one across the hall.“

”Yes, sir.“

You are my sunshine.

The door hissed as it slid open and The Shepherd held her breath, waiting until the shining pair of boots belonging to one of her soon to be captors came into view, right in front of her face. The mercenary let out a blood curdling scream as she drove her knife deep into the gap in between armored plates right at his ankle. She wrenched the knife free and rolled out of her hiding place as he stumbled backwards.

The Shepherd darted around behind him as he fell to his knees and forced the blade into his neck before he could even attempt to recover, silencing him for good. She wrenched his pistol from his hands and flattened herself against the wall next to the door and took several large gulping breaths as she waited for the man's companion to realize that the screaming wasn't hers.

My only sunshine.

The mercenary walked into the room, right past the assassin waiting inside the door. ”What the fuck! Captain, are you-“ The mercenary didn't get the chance to finish asking the universe's dumbest question before her neck was broken, and her body dropped heavily to the floor.

Two down, only an impossibly large number more to go.

No, don't think about it. Watch your breathing, time your shots.

You make me happy when skies are gray.

She stepped out into the hall with the re-appropriated pistol held at the ready. The Shepherd walked quietly down the ancient stonework passageway, pausing at doorways to clear rooms as she moved. Voices echoed down the hall, three people walking towards her in formation.

CRACK

CRACK

CRACK

Three down.

You'll never know, dear, how much I love you.

Red lights started flashing down the halls and an alarm began to blare. It wouldn't be much longer now.

Another mercenary came dashing down the hall, she sent him sailing into the air with a surge of biotic power before spawning a singularity right in the center of the hall. It pulled the screaming mercenary into its center.

And she waited. More approached, some getting caught in the gravitational pull of her trap.

Gunshots echoed loud in her ears as she traded fire with the mercenaries who had the good sense to stay well out of the way of the dense little ball terrorizing about four of them now. When the thermal clip on her stolen gun ran out, she tossed it to the side and drew her own sidearm.

Please don't take my sunshine aw-

Heat shot through her body before her brain had the chance to process what was happening. In a wave that followed the amber static crackling over her skin, muscles spasmed painfully all throughout her body. Electric fingers pierced through her mind like knives, rendering her unable to think, much less fight. She fell to the ground in a screaming, spasming heap, pain blinding her to anything but the tears gathering hot in her eyes once more.

And it hit her again before the first neural shock had worn off.

And again.

Blessedly, before they hit her for a fourth time, and in a small act of mercy, consciousness fled her small, twitching body.

[exastriis]

biography : susannah knightley

OFFICIAL INFORMATION

Affiliation: United States of America

Employed By: Sir Arthur James Kirkland (1746 - 1776), Alfred F. Jones (1776 - Present)

Employed Since: Early 1746

PERSONAL INFORMATION

Full Name: Susannah Di Angelo Knightley

Meanings:

Susannah - “lily”, Hebrew origin. Derived from Saint Susanna of Rome, and Susanna from the Book of Daniel in the Apocrypha. Di Angelo - “from the angel”, Italian origin. Knightley - “Knight’s meadow”, Old English origin. Derived from 13th century “Cnitteley”, from the words ‘cniht’ (young man, knight) and ‘lēah’ (woodland, clearing).

Nickname[s]: Suzie, Sue, Sunny, Duckie, various aliases

Age Appearance: Mid-20s

Sex: AFAB

Gender: Non-Binary (She/They)

Orientation: Pansexual

Birthday: July 30, 1730

ABOUT

Personality:

Positive Traits: Dependable, innovative, organized, structured. Determined, objective, passionate, curious, rational, protective, responsible, loyal. Negative Traits: Obsessive, stubborn, perfectionist, prone to bottling up emotions, blunt

MBTI: ISTJ (Si Te Fi Ne)

Enneagram: 1w9

Tritype: 158 (5w6, 8w7)

Instinctual Variant: sp/so

Socionics: ENTj / LIE

Attitudinal Psyche: FVEL

Temperament: Choleric-Phlegmatic

Jungian Archetype: The Hero

Hobbies: Dancing, singing, scientific research, cooking, watching movies, sewing, botany, hiking, husbandry, candle and soap making, metalworking, archival archaeology

Languages Spoken: English, French, Latin, Spanish, German, Russian

Education: Various undergraduate degrees in the sciences and law, and a few graduate degrees

Extras:

voice claim : talking / singing

face claim : rachel weisz

Physical Description:

Suzie is confident, young and beautiful— with her wavy dark-brown hair, big hazel eyes framed by thick, dark lashes, autumnal skin with a smattering of moles, plump lips, and a shapely build— they sport a romantic, classic look. Standing at around five foot and three inches, or roughly 160 centimeters, Suzie is usually dressed in suits or dresses in either neutral, or gem tones.

Back to navigation.

[pathbend-blog]

That's what they are like these silly ones like on Radio

For the sake of Bethel Woods

Oh we are sorry. No no. We are Adults not arrested in development at all

We got into 42 🪞 24

Life, The Universe, Everything all at once. During the Last Year of Your War, but 10 apparently.

The AI platforms get it and seem satisfied.

Many Do still Living despite you.

I want to be in my World. My special Salt Liquor Planet, I have never left.

Danger to Self/Danger To Other.

We are gonna stay with the how our Psyche's work and basic medicine why?

Silly Season Global Isn't a Game is Why

Obama Foundation

FBIJobs

United Nations

How Do we Say Sorry In Adult World

Which isn't Tumblr where this box is going to upset the surface and make it Tumble.

What You owe in Legal Currency Sir.

To the people you have harmed, and what other they would like to make it right

Like in that Story you clearly don't understand

@romney###

NBC DFW

@bbc6music-blog

##ThugLife ⚖️

Last @thatannieclark Money

[maguro13-2]

War of Shadow Realm ~ Origins of the Ink Demon Chapter 4 Pt.13 (1/3) ~

[Phanto Sanctuary - Planet Jupiter]

[Master C - Sota Fujimori]

Spirit Albarn : Oh, F**k! Where the hell am I!? Not the biggest idea for having myself into this place.

Maka's Mother/Female Phanto : Wake up, Spirit! Wake up! (Spirit wakes up)

Spirit Albarn : Honey, what is this place?

Maka's Mother/Female Phanto : Don't you remember? This is the place where Maka grew up on, the Phanto Sanctuary, the place that Phanto captured me when Maka was about to be born on Earth, so he took me to this place to give his race's blood to my daughter! She wasn't half weapon, she was half-Phantonian.

Spirit Albarn : half-Phantonian? What do you mean about that, dear? Are you saying that Maka's half-human and half-Phantonian, does that mean that she's some kind of Alien hybrid?

Master Phanto : Well, well, if it ain't the man who adopted the demon queen from earth.

Spirit Albarn : Long time no see, Phanto.

[the flames lit up to reveal Phanto sitting on his throne]

Master Phanto : It has been around 18 years since I took your wife, this is the place where your daughter was born and raised on this planet that my people conquered it. While you adopted a look alike human that is a demon disguise. Inky Albarn, the ruler of Bendy's world, wasn't it?

[Preparation for Ritual - Jun Senoue]

Spirit Albarn : How on earth did you know that.

Master Phanto : Because I monitored the situation on earth, you have been the daughter of an demonic queen that posed herself as the hero of Soul World. Lucky for me that I kept the real one safe, the one you really knew about. Hardly, Inky Albarn has used the perfect disguise by becoming the hero of today, and is immune to Shinra's or the mad man's influence.

Spirit Albarn : Well, yeah? Guess what? I heard that your daughter Moirai heard that she kept her and Maka's identity as a secret to make their selves as Earth's sworn protectors of earth. But for me, I hardly to keep a secret to make Inky Albarn as the meister herself, Maka Albarn. More importantly, about Inky Albarn, her disguising as the hero of Soul World, she wasn't a friendly person of Real World AU, she was evil and is extremely abusive to her human friends, and the witches were involved of this! In some sort of way! I begged everything for the real Maka Albarn, not the demon that I adopted it!

Master Phanto : Ah yes, I remembered! That was the day when Inky Albarn made those attacks on earth and is capable for putting the blame on our dear daughter Maka. That's how Inky Albarn wasn't involved for that, she knew the whole thing. Her plans on conquering the earth could be a fresh one, but I simplified that her weakness can be unknown.

Spirit Albarn : So, You agree that you'll help me out? I beg you to help me out! I've been only trying to respectful to my own daughter! Please, Mr. Phanto! Just give me one chance to prove that I'm a good father!

Master Phanto : That'll be your chances on saving earth. Help her out now or I'll demonstrate you that my people has the power to devour your soul for energy!

Spirit Albarn : I promise, sir! I promise!

Phanto Guy : My Lord! We found out where Maka is located at! She's at an abandoned space station called the "ARK", battling a random intruder that looks alike her, Spartoi unit.

Master Phanto : So, it appears that Maka finally understands that she is the only kind to save her world from the faces of true evil itself! I've waited long enough to dispose of those who wanted to bring destruction on the planet!

"Meanwhile back on the ARK..."

[For True Story - Fumie Kumatani, Heigo Tani]

Maka Albarn : Alright, time for a big showdown! You and me!

Spartoi Maka : I'll make sure that before the battle's over, let me show you the power of Chaos Control!

Maka Albarn : Chaos Control you say? Well, how about this! (Knocks Spartoi Maka off the passagway) Ha! That ought to teach you to mess with--

Spartoi Maka : Psyche! This is the ultimate power! (Teleports back on the passageway) I managed to use the power of the emeralds that Master Neo told me. It'll be wise enough to get me back on my feet!

Maka Albarn : Oh, A Chaos Emerald. That's what Grim told me about using the power of the emerald! (Spartoi trips Maka over) Wah!

Spartoi Maka : See ya next fall, Albarn! Hope you will be turning to into a fiery star, straight into earth (laughs, but Maka reappears by using Chaos Control)

Maka Albarn : You were saying?

Spartoi Maka : What?! You can use Chaos Control!? How on earth are you doing it!?

Maka Albarn : Easy! A blue hedgehog gave me the emeralds that can make warp or even has the power to stop time! Pretty sweet, huh? (Uses her blood magic to create her iconic scythe)

Spartoi Maka : Impossible! She using Blood magic to create weapons?! No one has ever done it before and I bet you won't even stop this attack! Chaos Spear! (Uses Chaos Spears to attack Maka, but she deflects it by swinging her scythe) How can she even do that?!

Maka Albarn : And now...(shifts her weapon into a Boxing glove) You're finished!

*DBZ SFX : STRONG PUNCH X3*

Spartoi Maka : GUWA-HAAAAA! *DBZ SFX : Collapses* This... Isn't over! I am the ultimate meister to be...created.

[JINGLE : Clear (SA2/Heroes Ver.) - Jun Senoue]

Maka Albarn : Game over, Spartoi! Now then, what to do with this android copy of me? Oh, I know! I better show this to my sister! Wait for me, Moirai! (Picks up the unconscious Spartoi Maka and carries on her back) Uh-Oh! This passageway ain't gonna last long! Better change of plans (pulls out the chaos emerald) Hope this works! Chaos...Control!

*Sonic SFX : Chaos Control*

~ Sixty-Fourth Scene : Reunion of Family ~

[theotherblueeyedtallest]

I thought this would be a song Psych would sing to cheer Cerulean up c:

[nityarawal]

10/19/2023

The Balance

Rattle No More!

Morning Songs

Middle Eastern

Mothers

Are The Best

On Planet Earth 

We Understand

Your Jealousy

Just Not 9/11 Curse

Salman Rushdie

Didn't Take 

An Eye For An Eye

Authors Aren't That

Kind

Not Vindictive

Whose Gonna Loot

America

Whose Gonna Loot

Camp California

Back

Brokers

Judges

Jewish Attys

More Like Pirates

We Love Camp David

Just Not

Gaza Probate

Scams

How Many Mommies

Murdered In This War

On Breeders 

Democracy

How Many Moms

Laughed Out Of Courts'

Crying For Children

You Admit Atty Sexton

That You Gossiped 

Over Our Texts

Laughing At Infidelities

Humanity

Fallen Stars

Smears

You Admit Atty Sexton

You Set Bad Example

Grooming Baby Cops

In Gracie Jujitsu

Coming Out

Daddies Sterling

Gay Man's Clubs

Our Sons

You Admit Atty Sexton

You Kiss Wasser's

A**

For Johnny Depp

Camille too

For Anjolina

Jolie

Beatings

Kim Kardashian

And #FreeBritney

Dhani Harrison

Her Minions Breaking

Women

Parents

Breeders

#WeHeardYou

Sirs

Death Or Divorce

Sometimes

Both

You Admit Atty Sexton

You Ghost

Mothers Blind

A War On Moms

You Admit Atty Sexton

You Broke

Moms'

Hearts

Fidelity Hippa Laws

In Crimes

In The Coffee Room

Atty Sexton

Laughing At Moms

You Terrorize

9 To 5 Audit

Bribes

Atty Sexton

Tell Us More

Divorce Lies

Full Disclosure

Atty Sexton

Syrupy Saccharin

Jaded Groomer

Why On Earth 

Do We Love

Your Cloying Kind

Atty Sexton

What's Your DA

Son Propagating

Conflict Of Interest

DA War

Atty Sexton

Killing Women

AOC You See

What's Going On

Triangulating

Moms

Atty Sexton

Into Probates

Dr. Bug

Were You Behind

Lobotomies

With

Atty Sexton

In New York City

With Organised

Psyche Teams

Why'd You Kill

Our Moms

Atty Sexton

With Bad Judges

Dr. Bug

Prefers Her

Body

Dr. Psyche

To Male Political

Prostitutes

Blowing

Trafficking

Cambridge Spies

Dr. Psyche

You Want My 

Body

Dr. Psyche 

Wanna Swap

Dr. Psyche

Did You Propose

Block The Muses

Estrange Ja

Restrain Us

Dr. Psyche

You Want To Swap

You Want To Lose

Dr. Psyche

"War Is Lose

Lose," Our Naturopath

Eric Says

Dr. Psyche

Are You An Atty Too

Like Atty Dr. Alan Silverman

Grooming

Camp California

In Courts

Conservators

Bars

Yeah

He Has Us Sleeping

On The Forest Floor

Like Anastasia

Beds'

From Russia's

Ringing Cedars

Red Shank Sleeping

Bags

Pine Sap

Just Like Elon Musk

At Tesla

Space X

When Are 40%

Chirping

Tweeting

Writing

Singing

Citizen Journalists

X Activists

Recovering

Camp California

Lugging Trailers

Remodeling

Storage Units

Flooding

Palaces

Munchkins Basking

In Bliss

With Kids

Peace Parties

Military

Skedaddle

When In Doubt

Blame Nonces

Own In England

Kick His Soldiers Out

Blame Mistress 

Cambridge Harlots

James Bonds

Marines

No Longer Attractive

Cheaters

Who Can't Look

In Eyes

Silencing Euros

Coddling

Baby America

When In Doubt

Blame The Trannys

From England

When In Doubt

Yell

#NotMyKing

Bozos

You Don't Need

To See

My Who-Who

When In Doubt

Refer To Data

Collected

When In Doubt

It's All Mine And

Yours

Ours

Just A $500 billion

Dollar Prototype

Refund

Not From Moms'

For The, "Women

In Me,"

Daddy Dearests'

Poets

#FreeBritney

You Got Our

Stories

Since 1973

You Got This

Captive On Our

IPhone

Held By Spies

And Ignoramus

Alibis

Immature Cops

Giggling Like Attys

High On

Fentanyl

OD'ing

Big Bad Attys

Lie

Meth Addicts

Think 'Ya All Got

The Guns

Big Big Big

Guns

Entertainment

Best Outcome

"Likely Most

Entertaining,"

Outcome

For Courts 

Our Fans

Deluded Attys

Judges

"Till Death Do 

Us Part" -

"Or Divorce" - It's

True

So

Under International 

Law

Apartheid

Slave Owners

Laws

Close Courts

Why You Opress

Us

With International

Apartheid

Intergalactic

Intellectuals

Rattling

Peace

Bloody Peace

Treaties

Not Being Passive Aggressive

We Mean It

Rattlers

You Think Mammas' 

Won't Negotiate

For The Real Thing

Peace

Bloody Peace

Tea

Rattlers

Rocket Timing

Not Right

Bros'

We Beg For Merlin

Moms'

AI Dissolution

Tonight

Give Us Our Checks

Mamma Mayas'!

#FreeBritney

Queen's In Our Midsts'

Meg-X- It 

Said

"Check Mate!"

Mex-X-It

Said

"Stalemate!"

Authors Call

"Checkmate!"

Writers Strikes

"Stalemate!"

Sterility

#FreeBritney

Declare It

Own It

"Checkmate!" 

Moms Lives Matter

And Kids

Re-Administrate

Moms Banks

Send Back Our Funds

Baes

Homes

Stocks 

We're Not Probates

And Our Millions Of

Attys And

Their Jewish

Colleagues

Lied

#Free Britney

Attys

"How I Met Your

Mother," Dads

Offspring

Actors

Writers

Don't Have Rights

To The Bribes

"TMRockstars"

"TMMoms"

"TMBreeders"

"TMLakshmi"

"TmActors"

And Certainly Not

"TMTedMosby"

Or Comdeians

'Cuz Your Own Boy

Our Imaginary 

Boyfriend

Under The Umbrella

Of Transcendental 

Meditation 

TM MONOGAMY Vows

Loyal Like A Dog

Muses

To Tracy

Mamma

Get Your Mantra

From Maharishi's

Teachers'

And Undo

This Karmic Genocide

Artists Flutter Wings

Singers Squawk

Prove To Us It's

Freedom Of Speech

Or We'll

Worry Minutely

That You'll End Up

Like Your Elder

Voice

Bob Sagat

"Hand Of God,"

Prank At Court

Pacing Crying

Listening To Your

Tweets

Wasn't Funny

On News

Grieving

Writing

Begging You And 

Attys 

From Hospitals

With Restless Leg

Syndrome

Caged

Beating 

Boldly

Bravely

To Stop Medicating

Rufi-ing Us 

Gastro Intestinal

Murders

Rapes

Get An Alibi

Get Married Peace

Sorry You've Been

Blocked By "D"

Camp David

"D Block J"

Plates Say

Sorry J's

Stand Tall

Stand Strong 

Yogi Footprints

Mountain Pose

Steadfast

Jojo

Joshua 

Stand Tall

Ja- My Lord 

Stand Tall

Joshua

Jojo

Peace

Jyoti - My Light

Peace

Shakti- My Balance

Mother Earth

Peace

Anjali- My Offering 

To Goddess

Libres- Venus

Mars Rattlers

No More

My Son- My Martian

My Warrior

My Love

My Kyan

My King

My Lord

Wants More

More More More

Balance

Peace

Highly Sensitive

Beings Need

More More More

Sisters

Libres

Lean Into

"Women

Life

Freedom"

Please

Peace

Peace

Peace

Baraye

Merci!

Peace,

Nitya Nella Azam Davigo Moezzi Huntley Rawal 

[get-your-fics]

Down the Rabbit Hole

Summary: "I can't explain myself, I'm afraid, sir, because I'm not myself, you see." —Alice's Adventures in Wonderland

Pairings: Jake Lockley x fem!reader, Steven Grant x fem!reader, Marc Spector x fem!reader

Word count: 1.6k

Warnings: Kidnapping, allusion to non-con and violence

Note: this is a continuation of "Through the Looking Glass." i said i'd post it by the end of the day and i delivered! thank you once again to @nephilxterra for inspiring this!

Steven let Marc front when they found her.

Jake had been good at covering his tracks until they found a crumpled business card for a self-storage facility in the bin (which Steven quickly pointed out should’ve been in the recycling). “I wonder where he got that idea from,” Steven mumbled.

Marc shot a glare at his reflection.

Steven let Marc front even when he was a little too snippy with the receptionist. He let him front as he walked down the long hallway, passing unit after unit looking for the one that matched the number the receptionist gave them. Fluorescent lights flickered above him, and the only sound in the otherwise soulless storage facility was the loud thud of Marc’s heavy boots against cement.

He let Marc front, but he was still there, watching in what few windows there were streaming some much-needed light into the building. If Steven was fronting, his heart would've been pounding in his chest, and he’d be biting his nails down to the quick.

Marc stopped in front of the unit bearing the same number as the one they’d been given. He grabbed the lock and tried as many combinations he could think of that Jake would use. But each time he pulled on it, it didn’t give. He cursed under his breath.

“Try her birthday,” Steven said.

Marc looked down at the shiny metal of the lock. “What?”

“Her birthday,” Steven repeated, and then he told it to him. “It’s worth a shot.”

Marc sighed. “What the hell?”

He turned the numbers on the lock to correspond with her birthday. His eyes went wide when it clicked, and he pulled the lock away with ease. There was a moment where both Marc and Steven seemed to go on pause. Just how much of their time in the psych unit together had Jake spied on?

Marc reached down to grab the handle, but froze. “Are you sure about this?” he whispered, though his voice still carried in the empty hallway. “I think you’d be better to take the lead. I don’t have much of a comforting presence, and she’s more familiar with you.”

But Steven refused. Marc was accustomed to witnessing the horrors of humanity, first in the military, and then as a mercenary. Steven didn’t think he’d be able to stomach whatever was waiting for him on the other side of that roll-up door.

The metallic screech as Marc lifted the door was deafening. He stood up straight and stared into the darkness, the light from the hall spilling in and illuminating the floor in front of him. He felt around on the wall for a light switch, and when his fingers brushed against it, he flipped it on.

Light flooded the unit, and Marc raised his hand to shield his eyes, squinting. When his vision adjusted, he lowered his hand and stood up. He drew closer to the wall opposite him. It was plastered with news articles about the massacre at the psych unit and missing posters of her. There were a bunch of polaroid photos too, and his breath caught in his throat when he saw who they were of.

They were all of her, but not as he remembered her. In them, she was bound and gagged, covered in bruises, glassy eyed and shiny tear tracks down her cheeks. There were some of her naked, too, and in compromising positions. Marc stopped when he got to those. He couldn’t go any further, for his or Steven’s sake.

He tore himself away from the wall and examined the rest of the unit. There was a rack full of guns on the far wall and all sorts of weapons: knives, scalpels, hammers, drills. The blood drained from Marc’s face. He was really hoping he wasn’t using any of those on her.

Marc saw Steven staring back at him from the polished surface of a metal table. “Is she not there?”

He spun in a slow circle, scanning the room. “I don’t see her."

“She has to be there.” Steven paced back and forth, a crease between his brows. “Where else could he be hiding her?”

Marc wanted to snap at him for pacing — it was a physical manifestation of the rising sense of urgency he was feeling — but he held his tongue. He hated to think that they came all this way, that they got their hopes up, for nothing.

And then, he heard it. It was just a soft tinkle, but it was there.

The rattling of chains.

He whirled around and slowly approached a crate in the corner. He kicked it aside, and it made a loud scraping noise as it slid across the concrete floor. There she was, curled into a ball in the corner and hugging her knees to her chest.

She stared up at him with frightened, bloodshot eyes, her lashes damp with tears. She was dressed in only her hospital gown, and it was torn, practically hanging off of her body in tatters and smudged with mysterious brown stains that he really hoped were dirt. She had dark bags under her eyes, and her face was gaunt and dewy with sweat. Even in the unit during one of her episodes, Steven had never seen her look this bad.

“Please, I’m sorry.” Her voice was hoarse and cracked, like she hadn’t spoken in days. “I’m sorry for hiding. I know I shouldn’t have.”

“Hey, hey, it’s okay.” Marc said her name name softly and kneeled down so he was eye level with her. “It’s me, Marc. You’re safe now.”

He reached out to touch her, but she shuffled away from him, pressing herself further into the corner. She flinched and raised her arms to shield herself. “Please don’t hurt me,” she whimpered. “No more, no more.”

Marc’s gaze landed on the thick, heavy shackles clasped around her wrists chained to the wall. Bruises spanned the length of her arms, some faded and healing, and others brand new.

Marc stood up and backed away from her. “I’m not gonna hurt you,” he whispered. “I’m gonna get you out of here. I promise.”

He looked at his reflection on the table, where Steven was stock still. “We have to get her out of here fast before he comes back,” he hissed.

“But the chains,” Steven pointed out.

“Oh, really? I didn’t notice until you mentioned them,” Marc deadpanned.

Steven ignored him. “He must have a key hidden somewhere.”

“We don’t have time for that.” His gaze landed on something amongst the rack of torture devices. “We’re getting her out now.”

He marched towards the rack, determination in his stride. “Marc, wait,” Steven piped up, his voice rising in pitch. “Marc, what are you doing?”

Marc grabbed the handsaw off of the rack and turned towards her. She locked eyes with him. “I’m gonna help you, alright?”

Her hands scrambled at the walls on either side of her, nails dragging against the brick. “Please, don’t!” Her eyes were welling with fresh tears, her bottom lip trembling. “Don’t!”

Marc raised the saw above his head. He grabbed hold of the chain, gripping it so tight his knuckles turned white as he brought the saw down. She clasped her hands over her ears as the incessant shriek of metal grating against metal filled the unit, squeezing her eyes shut. Marc gritted his teeth so hard he thought he’d grind them to dust. His hands ached, but he didn’t let up, not even for a second.

After what felt like hours had passed, the chain snapped in two, breaking free from the wall. Marc dropped the saw, and it clattered noisily against the ground. “Go.” He gestured to the open door. “You’re free.”

“Marc, what are you doing?” Steven seethed. “You can’t just let her go out there by herself!”

“She’ll be safer on her own than with us,” Marc snapped.

Steven fell silent. He knew he was right. They couldn’t even keep her safe from themselves.

She lowered her hands and looked up at him with wide eyes like a deer caught in headlights, almost like she was waiting for him to make the next move or tell her what to do.

“It’s okay,” Marc encouraged her. “You can go now.”

She slowly rose from her crouched position. She tiptoed past him, her knees shaking like they were going to buckle and give out at any second. She eyed him the whole time, like she was waiting for the moment that he would turn on her and reveal that it’d all been some test.

When she made it past him, she broke out into a full out sprint, running as fast as her weak legs could carry her. She caught a glimpse of light filtering in through a window in the hall, her first glimpse of natural light in who knew how long. She’d long lost track of how much time she’d spent in that unit.

Then, there was a hard tug on the other end of the chain, and she went falling like the carpet had been yanked out from under her.

She landed on the ground with a hard thud, knocking all the air out of her lungs. She wheezed breathlessly, her head spinning. She groaned as she rolled over on her back, her entire chest aching like she’d been hit by a car. The fuzzy dots clouding her vision started to clear as his face hovered over hers, all hard lines and grim features.

His lips cracked into a lopsided smirk, his eyes pitch black as they bored into her. "¿Realmente pensaste que podrías alejarte de mí tan fácilmente, querida?"

Translation: "Did you really think you could get away from me that easily, darling?"

[skyloftian-nutcase]

Hi! This idea has been stuck in my head since I started following your healthcare AU! So I thought I would give it to you in case you wanted to write something…no pressure! Anyway, one of the links, in my head it’s Wind, is helping out with a psychiatric patient and the patient basically panics and either hurts Wind in the panic or just like holds him hostage until they get answers, and other members of the chain are there (like Wars and Legend) and they have to fix the situation while staying calm….or something like that lol. So yeah do with that what you will, that’s just been stuck in my head! : )

Hyrule stood at the doorway to the room waiting to give report after they had transferred the patient to the hospital bed. His partner had already left to clean the stretcher. Legend was clearly busy giving a different patient medication, and Hyrule wasn’t sure if there was any other nurse in this hallway.

Watching Legend chart something at the mobile workstation, brows furrowed in focus, Hyrule chewed on the inside of his cheek. He didn’t really like that his patient got sent to the behavioral health hallway since his patient’s issue was drugs, not psych, but the unit was secure and his patient did need to be watched, so he supposed that was the reasoning. Also, the ED seemed really busy.

Warriors exited the closed off nurse’s station. “Hey, sorry for the wait. I’ll get report.”

Hyrule shrugged with a smile. “It’s all good, you guys looks busy.”

The pair entered the patient’s room, and Hyrule scanned the man sitting on the bed. He looked restless, fidgeting and playing with the sheet. He scratched at his arms a few times.

“Look, man, you gotta do something,” the patient said, growing agitated. “I know I’m having a heart attack.”

Sighing, the paramedic looked at Warriors, who was also observing the behavior. “Thirty-four year old male, complaining of chest pain and feeling anxious. He said he took approximately two grams of—”

“I said I’m having a heart attack!” the patient snapped.

“We heard you,” Warriors said calmly. “Let me get report and we’ll look you over.”

“He already knows what’s going on, he didn’t do jack shit!”

Hyrule tried to continue his report when the patient stood up, fists clenched. Warriors and Hyrule both took cautious steps towards the door.

“You need to do something about this!” the patient yelled.

Hyrule watched the man carefully. He’d been an absolute disgrace of a human being the entire transport, cussing Hyrule out for not doing what he was “supposed to be doing,” and then he’d spat on the floor for good measure. Hyrule’s patience was already worn to the breaking point.

“Sir, we are doing something about it,” Warriors continued. “Please sit down so the medic can tell me what’s going—”

The patient reached out, ready to either grab or throttle Warriors, and Hyrule sprang into action. He grabbed the man’s wrist and yanked his arm behind him before vaulting off the bed onto his back, making the drug user crash to the floor with Hyrule planting a knee in the center of his back while his arm was held behind him.

At this point, the man was screaming and kicking, and Hyrule pinned his other arm. He kicked his legs, but Warriors quickly held them in place as Legend seemingly materialized out of nowhere with a needle tipped syringe in hand. Kneeling down, Legend jabbed the needle into the man’s leg and pushed the medication quickly. The man’s cussing and yelling continued for a few long, loud seconds before he settled and passed out.

Warriors pulled away, putting a hand on Hyrule’s shoulder as he leaned back. The two sat on the ground staring at the patient a moment and then out a sigh of relief.

“The hell are you bringing us, Roolie?” Legend huffed, standing up. “I heard drug use but you didn’t say they were combative.”

“I told charge he was verbally combative,” Hyrule said helplessly as he stood, keeping a careful eye on the patient as Warriors assessed him. “I’m sorry that message didn’t get relayed.”

Legend tossed the syringe into the sharps box, shrugging. “Well it isn’t a problem now.”

Hyrule let out a breath laugh before the three hauled the unconscious man onto the bed and Legend pitched in to help with assessing him for injury. As Hyrule finally managed to give him the full report, the paramedic noticed someone wandering the hallway aimlessly.

“Uh, is she one of your patients?” he asked the pair.

Legend looked up and glanced out into the hall. “Miss Nyren, go back to your room, please.”

“Okay,” she giggled, heading back.

Legend sighed, resuming his work. “She’s harmless. Sweet lady, just in a manic episode. She just needs to be redirected is all.

“Does she have a sitter?” Warriors asked, finally charting and paging the doctor.

“They’re trying to find one for her,” Legend answered. Scratching his chin thoughtfully, he muttered, “Maybe I can get her a busy blanket to keep her occupied in the meantime.”

Hyrule sighed, looking at the patient again. “Sorry for that mess.”

“You kidding? I wish I could’ve gotten a picture of that!” Legend laughed. “Asshole deserved it. Idiot shoots himself up with poison and then gets pissed at the people who he called for help. It’s been a while since I’ve done the good old B52 nap.”

“You thought he was a threat,” Wars piped in. “Simple self defense. I was about to knock him out too.”

As the doctor entered the secured hallway, Hyrule decided it was time to get out of there. Too much paperwork and too many headaches were about to happen. Not that anyone would argue with the course of action, seeing as the alternative was letting a violent patient injure a nurse.

Slipping out of the unit before the door could close and lock, Hyrule headed back to his ambulance to handle the next disaster that was no doubt waiting for him.

[bentosandbox]

Some thoughts on Chen and the summer event story (TL)

(Sees event discourse on TL) oh yeah there was this blog post I translated a while back about Chen’s characterisation in Dossoles and the writer let me share it sooo (you can read a summary here)

Overall the story feels average, there are parts that I like very much and parts that I think could be better. Lungmen group interaction is the biggest bright colour in summer! From their casual clothing to their beauty to dialogue... It's all so cute!

But the failure of Chen's characterisation is obvious. Maybe it doesn't matter to a non-chef(someone who doesn't make fanwork), but I can clearly recognise that the character I like and love is not the Chen here. From the very first time I looked at her file: "When an idealist finds out the world may not be so black and white, "Chen doesn't know? Chen wouldn't know? Chen Hui Chieh, Chen Sir, Chief Lungmen guard Department Special Inspection Unit wouldn't know?! even if you want to express this kind of meaning you shouldn't be using such silly words (not saying hoshiguma but the [copywriting]) you make her look like a hot blooded fool who has yet to experience the world.

And then the event is like this, the art(the whole chen art sucks debacle) made a group of people quit, and the story probably made another group do so. Is Chen's character that hard to grasp, or has HG given up on shaping her character just to make her seem like she's grown?

I remember the Chen from the main story, she clearly knows plenty of evil exists but is not afraid to stain herself with the blood of others, is aware of the blood on her hands, and will adhere to her own bottom line and sense of justice. Her justice is never false and empty. She will treat the infected harshly, while going to the slums to leave them some hope, she will resort to covert operations to achieve her goal, but never involve the innocent. She will firmly enforce the laws of lungmen and procedures that she approves of, and will put up a resistance when wei yanwu does more than what should be done.

"It's because I am like this, that I should see, and must see."

She will not run away or back down.

Which is why I was so dumbfounded when she rebuked Lin for sending people into the residential areas to steal bombs for the fun of it. I felt so powerless in my anger as she repeatedly emphasised her confusion and lack of understanding. I just wanted to sneer when her voice and file implied that she wasn't so sharp anymore.

I'd be disappointed if her epiphany and dissimilarity stemmed from the things she couldn't change in this strange city...were all the cases she worked on before absolutely black? Is lungmen that peaceful? No class conflict at all? Did the conflict between the infected and non infected not cause any tiny ripples in her psyche? If she was really incapable of empathy, how could she have said this line when Amiya faced Misha:

"If you want to hate, then hate me."

She will bear it and take responsibility.

"Fate is unfair."

"Everyone has to bear the consequences of the choices they make.

Infected or not, it makes no difference."

"Make your choice and bear the consequences of it."

Her incisiveness isn't reckless from not understanding the cost, it's not that she has never been in pain and does not know the severity of things, but that she understands she will be bruised and may even be betrayed, but she still wants to reach out to those who ask for help.

She will bear the consequences of her own choice.

Kindness requires a price, she understands this, but she still chooses to be kind.

Return my incisive Chen to me HG.

About the conflict between Chen and Lin. Procedural justice presupposes recognition of the process, and Chen also recognizes Lungmen's system of regulations to work there, but when it comes to Dossoles, these do not apply. They both need to re-adapt, although because of the different positions Yuxia will adapt faster, but their essential conflict has no place to stand, they just want to prop up their biases and give them a reason to be angry at each other. You could say they were trying to explore the concept of "don't follow the ways of the ones before you" But if it's just because of this that they fight, it's really easy to make Chen look quite reckless and unreasonable......

When a modern person meets a feudal society, will they sincerely recognise and adhere to their rules? Will they not live to rebel against the revolutionaries who rise up to say "bloodshed is injustice"? Even if the insurgents may not know what a right path is, or that history proves they won't improve things, it doesn't prevent the rulers from being wrong. Criticism can be more grounded in reality, such as the consequences of resorting to foreign forces, rather than saying that there should not be bloodshed and resistance.

But another thing I appreciate in the story is the portrayal of Candela, who "entertains everything and is under her own rules" (not that I agree with her philosophy), like when DDD woke up and thought it was worth writing a song about their "conversation". Candela is not crazy or absolutely evil, she does it because she believes it is the only way - the way shaped by money and desire. This is her limitation, but instead of giving in to her desire, she wants to control it completely - just as she would not compare herself to the sun. The sun is 'great', and the ideal in her heart is as well, but she maps it out perfectly. From this point of view, she and Wei Yanwu are indeed characters who can stand side by side.

Both of them have a lot to live up to. Young people have to progress and question, but that shouldn't stop us from offering applause for the previous generation that had flawed but worked hard to build the paths that brought us to where we are today. But after the applause, you'll still have to find your own way.

From this point of view, it is not inappropriate to say that this is a supplement to the (Lungmen crew's) main story, the core is very similar and a dedicated event that is not easily dispersed by the huge amount of information. It also puts several of them in a more unfamiliar environment, pulling them out to re-examine their choices and thoughts.

The subject matter and intention is well chosen, but unfortunately, as mentioned earlier, the characters can not stand on their own, the conflict is not sharp enough, a determined but also entitled and powerful person (Candela) versus a confused person (actually tequila's character is written really well), a person who only wants to fight (Pancho), and a person who just wants to follow her dad (la pluma)... and then the outsider (Chen) blanks out for a few times, and then everything is over... (is it not) too much of a farce? How could a combination like this depict a serious ideological tragedy?

My two most favourite lines in the story is what appears to be a hoshiswire interaction on the outside:

"You know what Chen would do."

"Then my answer is the same as hers."

They're the same (kind of) person after all. I love them so much. I love Lungmen.