#Sniper: The White Raven

[movies-ive-watched]

Sniper: The White Raven (2022)

[unholyplumpprincess]

I keep getting overly excited abt all the balloons on the Apex maps theyre all so rOUND!!!!

[tctmp]

Drama  War

[thesharktanksdriver]

Star covered hug booth (platonic)

Not canon but just some plane what if fun based on an ask from awhile back. Also sorry I’ve been inactive I’ve had some burnout as of late alongside starting second year university lol

Send me asks for characters you’d like to see hug Determination! Y/n

Masterlist for determination!

In life Nami had many things she has come to love.

For one she loved her mom Bellemere and sister Nojiko (as well as Genzo, a man who was the only father-figure she had in her life despite how she butted heads with him). Nami loved them wholeheartedly, loved them so deeply she sacrificed her childhood to ensure Bellemere’s sacrifice was not in vain.

She loved Cocoyashi. Loved the quaint island village she called home, the old beaten paths she’d chart on her first mock maps. Loved its people that despite having their pockets nicked by her small nimble hands still cared for her (only years later did she learn that many would let her get away with taking their wallets and would give Bellemere discounts for things she needed).

She loved tangerines and oranges. The smell of them lingered on her and in her dreams as the soft memories of that home on a cliffside played in her mind. The sweet taste that stuck to her tongue, the white blossoms in the spring and the color that matched the sunsets that she would peer out at through windows.

She loved money, she felt more secure with it after the years of barely scraping by and being extorted. Liked being able to provide for herself things that seemed more like a childish dream rather than a reality. Nami liked buying clothes, jewels, supplies and things for everyone on board even if they had not noticed. She also used it as a way to tie people to her, by having a “debt” it meant that they would not leave her (even if in her mind she knows they won’t).

And most of all Nami loved her crew.

Nami loved the idiot she called a captain. Dressed in flip flops and his raggedy straw hat sitting like a crown atop messy raven hair along with a stretched out smile across his face.

loved the moss haired swordsman without a sense of direction. How loyalty ran through his blood and his unwavering spirit in spite of the situations they ended up in.

Loved the blond haired cook who went out of his way to feed the crew with a grin. A cigarette hung limply on his lips whilst he handed off Hand made drinks specially catered to individual tastes.

Loved the long nosed cowardly sniper who she leant on for support as one of the only sane ones left on this crew. Their shared dry remarks on ridiculous situations before laughter replaced it.

Loved the blue nosed little doctor that plastered wounds with bandaids with their Jolly Roger. His bursts of bashfulness at being told he did a good job and his love of all things pink and sweet.

Loved the calm and cool historian who never failed to make her feel appreciated. The woman who never asks about the nightmares (nor does Nami ask about her own) but instead silently comfort each other.

Loved the shipwright with flashy chains and a steel hard smile. The man who puts love into their vassal with each nail and board while making unconventional machines that make everyone else smile.

Loved the joke making skeleton with annoying questions but with the soul of a true musician. Ivory bones drifting along similarly ivory keys whilst the crew listened to his songs of old.

Loved the reserved yet hearty presence of the helmsman that helps her through her trauma of fish and scales. The way he uses graceful movements of his karate that’s used to water her tangerines before he splashes a nearby Luffy.

And finally Nami loved the starry-eyed storyteller of the crew. The cherub face of an old soul that has seen too much of the world and has yet to change. A child stuck to watch the world around them change, telling the stories lost to time and later their own mind.

Nami loved her crew.

Maybe that was a bit of an understatement, but the point still stands.

…..but god did she sometimes loath their spending habits which leads her to this situation now.

As the only person on this damn boat with any Handle on money (besides Sanji when he’s not head over heels) she can’t help but want to bash her head in. Because along with being the navigator she handles the money, but evidently that didn’t matter to her stupid (affectionate) crew mates.

No Luffy you can’t buy 5 tons of meat just because your hungry.

No Zoro you can’t buy an oceans worth of booze because you feel like it.

No Sanji you can’t just buy every woman in a crowd a necklace because their “angels sent by heaven”.

No Ussop you can’t just buy a bunch of random supplies for your bombs half that stuff doesn’t make sense.

No chopper you can’t stalk up on cotton candy…the medical supplies is allowed though knowing this crew.

No Robin you can’t have another library on board when our room is already stacked from top to bottom in books.

No Franky for the love of god please stop buying supplies for robots we already have enough of them.

No Brook you don’t need a glass piano we already have 3 different pianos on the sunny.

No jimbe…actually no Jimbe your good because you're actually an responsible adult…wait why do you have so many Hawaii shirts-

And finally you. The only person on this crew who sticks to the budget but never actually buys anything for themself. Honestly she’d be happy if you went over budget and got yourself something, but she knows that’ll happen when Luffy becomes a vegetarian.

Nami loves her crew but god does that seem to screw her over.

They barely had enough to afford supplies at the next port, and though stealing wasn’t off the table laying low would be nice. Especially since her idiot of a captain just had to make a ruckus recently and have a good portion of the marines on their tail.

She’d really like to avoid another jailbreak.

So with that in mind she needed cash quickly.

And with that formed various schemes and ideas.

Form a mlm? Nah too much time to invest in.

Rob a bank? Too much attention.

Form a big distraction and then rob people blind? Shed and most of the crew would avoid doing that to civilians if possible.

And with all those x’d out ideas in mind she finally came to one that seemed plausible.

Somehow you had gained the friendship of many people over your many years of living. From almost all the warlords to Yonko’s and even admirals.

And knowing this Nami’s mind started a scheme. One that left her conflicted.

Because as much as their finances needed it, she wasn’t alright if it made you uncomfortable.

===

It’s partially halfway to their next destination that Nami sits herself next to you whilst you watch the waves. They lapped over one another, folding into the endless blue complimented by bubbling white foam. The sight never seemed to grow old to your eyes, even after so many years of watching the same sight once more as the day continued in its mellowness.

Normally someone of the crew would come to join you so it’s not too surprising when Nami joins.

But what is surprising is when she speaks up instead of continuing in sweet silence.

“We’re low on funds and I had an idea” she starts slowly, she picks beneath her nails, a nervous habit of hers. You noticed it quite easily, for as much as Nami wanted to look like she’s calm and in control you’d alway noticed the cracks in her resolve. It’s what you respected about her. The way she always tried to act like a pillar for others to lean on even when she was as brittle and scared as everyone else.

“Sure thing” you say, still looking out towards the waves.

“But you didn’t-“

“Nami I trust you.”

You think that for a moment that breaks her, shattering her heart into thousands of tiny pieces. Though that should hardly be surprising to her, because of course you trusted her. She was your navigator, your friend. You had every reason to, yet still it resonates within her deeply.

“You didn’t even hear what it was” her tone is slightly chiding, yet lingering fear still makes itself known despite your previous comment. “I had the idea for a hug booth…you know so many people who’d go to the end of the earth for you” she seems slightly uncomfortable saying this, as if slightly upset at herself.

“Yeah sure thing.” You say once more.

Instead of silence though you're met by her ocher brown eyes.

Nami places her hands gently on your shoulders, getting down on a knee to look you in the eye on your level. She looks for apprehension, yet finds none.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” She asks this with a tone that indicates how serious she is “if you're not that’s fine and I can think of something else. But I need to know if you're ok with this.”.

She watches a smile cross your face, small hands that were soft yet should be weathered over the years and years you’d been alive gently cupping her cheeks. You’d done this before to ground her, those nights filled with nightmares of Arlong that left her crying and grasping for anything to hold. The ones where she’d desperately want to curl up and disappear into herself, the ones where she'd look to her shoulder and still see the tattoo beneath the cover up.

It was a gesture of sincerity.

“I’m alright with it, Nami.”

Your eyes sparkle.

“I would’ve said I wasn’t if I was. Besides, I’m looking forward to seeing who shows up! Plus it’ll be nice to see some old friends again”

At that Nami nods, a shaky breath leaving her as she stands back up. She swallows down the last bit of fear and anxiety about pushing you to do something that would make you uncomfortable.

And then her game face quickly takes over.

Her head snaps towards Usopp and Franky’s direction.

“Get to work on advertisements and a booth pronto. You’ll get a bigger cut in the budget I’ve set”

===

On the grand line there was a small island that was considered an odd outlier to that of many other islands.

The island of “plote devi’cee” was one that served as a neutral ground for both marines and pirates alike. It started decades ago due to a legend, a daughter of a marine falling in love with a pirate. The meeting of the boyfriend and dad didn’t go well as expected, the boyfriend ended up dead as did the dad which left the girl heartbroken and supposedly cursing the island.

So long as pirates or marines stepped foot on its soil no fights could happen.

Lest they suffer like the poor fools all those years ago who had their ships decimated via sea kings and such bad weather that the ship capsized.

This is important due to the fact that it was the perfect place to set up shop.

You’d been to this place a few times before, so when mentioning it to Nami for this money making scheme it seemed like the only logical place it could work.

With the pamphlets handed out via news birds and your crows they’d inevitably end up at Marineford. So better to be on neutral territory for both marine and pirates without having the operation busted.

So with that in mind and the sunny docked Nami took quickly to setting up shop.

The small booth Franky constructed stood proud and strong atop a small hill just outside the village of the island. Just far enough out of the way as to not disturb their peaceful lives as you sat in your booth waiting. Drapes of cloth created a small doorway and privacy for you and the future customers. Mostly since you’d known this would likely get emotional for more than a few people (perhaps even yourself). Now thinking about it though, it seemed more like a tent and booth but “y/n’s hug booth” was definitely more of a zinger.

Just outside holding a large set of jars were Sanji and Zoro, your “guards” and debt collectors for Nami. Behind your stand was Robin sitting in a small sun chair. An ear inside the booth to listen for the secret sign of you being uncomfortable, 3 taps on the wood and then it would be the signal for zoro and Sanji to drag off whoever was inside.

It wasn’t fully fool proof but it was enough for you to be comfortable enough.

And so you wait.

But it seems not for long as you hear the exasperated murmur of Nami not far away from the booth.

“That’s a lot of ships”.

Seems like the hugging shall begin.

Boa Hancock

Before even seeing the curtain open, you hear Sanji’s commotion of “my eyes have been blessed by a goddess-“ before a subsequent thwack sound resonating in the air. You're not sure who hit Sanj whether From Zoro, Nami or Boa herself but the curtain opens and there enters the empress of the Amazon Lily herself.

The proclaimed most beautiful woman in the world and snake princess warlord.

She sits down, posed and perfect on the small stool. Long legs crossed as you watch the apathy from her face fade at now being in private with you.

It’s odd for you to see her public persona of uncaring, cruel and selfish. Not when you know at heart she’s a girl who’s been victim to the most vicious of cruelties. A woman who longs to be kind yet cannot face being hurt once more, someone who’d rather push those closest away if it ensured their safety.

It’s why you smile when a soft expression covers her face.

“Sorry if Sanji gave you trouble, he’s a massive flirt…and a simp. He means well though, just takes a bit far sometimes” you say a little exasperated as you rub the back of your neck. She gives a small chuckle, the sound of it is soft and pretty like wind chimes and birdsong.

“He’s a man, I’ve dealt with plenty worse.” It comes off as slightly mocking towards the blond, though you’d let it slide knowing her experience with men…plus as much as you loved Sanji he was a bit over the top “besides, I came here to see you.”.

“I must be lucky then. Having been graced with the presence of an empress” the tone is accented by a slight giggle. One that she mirrors with a true smile, one not marred by fakeness or lies, just genuine.

“It’s…it’s good to see you again”

“It’s good to see you too Hancock”

You open your arms, and she reaches forwards to warp you in her own.

Her hug is stiff at first, as if she had not felt the comfort of arms holding her in a very long time and still trying to uphold her mask of stone cold empress. But much like her mask, it cracks and breaks.

What once was stiff arms much like when she petrified people circled around you soon melts.

She pulls you closer, resting her head atop your shoulder as she just holds you and you hold her.

The floral scent of the Amazon lily creates a pleasant smell that wafts within the tent. Roses, peonies, lilacs and of course Lillie’s tickle your nose. It’s much different from your scent of sea salt and dust covered books.

It takes a moment but you quickly begin to hear soft sobs leave her. Tears trailing down and making your shoulder dampen.

You don’t mind.

You just pat her head as gently as you can.

Once more Boa Hancock does not feel like a heartless warlord nor a scared little girl huddled in a cell.

Boa was just Boa.

She was more than the beauty, the power or the brand on her back.

She was more than just her body.

And that’s more priceless than anything she could ever imagine.

“Thank you” her voice is quiet and gentle, something few people would ever have the luxury of hearing.

“No need to thank me Boa.”

To her, your hug signifies a genuine love. One not of romance that clouds the eyes of her fanatic nor of lust that clouds the eyes of men. Your love was Just the love of a friend.

The love of the person behind her facade.

You see her gentle heart and hold it with equal gentle hands.

“You can always turn to me if you need it, can always use my shoulder to cry on. It doesn’t make you weak, it only makes you stronger”

Mihawk Dracule

His appearance at the booth is as cryptic and abrupt just as his appearance of his boat on the sea is.

It’s abrupt.

Expected.

And to everyone but you (and maybe Zoro) it’s an unpleasant surprise.

One that should be bound for bloodshed yet creates a certain tinge of happiness as he closes the curtains behind him and sits down on the small chair facing you.

Yoru being leant against the chair.

A small and subtle sign that he feels at ease with you.

…or at least didn’t see you as a threat. (It was hard to tell with him)

“It’s good to see you again Mihawk, how has the traveling been?” You say this while leaning against your palm that rested on the stand.

Golden ringed eyes stare at you, for a moment you can distinguish a crinkle of affection.

“They’ve been monotonous as usual. Overzealous fools who think they can challenge me”

“An, so like zoro?”

He chuckles at that, distantly outside the tent you hear a distinct “Oi!” Before the sounds of Sanji kicking him. Their bickering fades into the background as Nami presumably dragged them away.

Mihawk leans over, and suddenly you're enveloped in his arms. It’s perhaps a bit unexpected, though with Mihawk things were always a gamble. You half anticipated for him to leave without a hug, but seeing that he hadn’t made you all the more happier.

Mihawk's hug feels secure and protective, as if he were a shield to the rest of the world and its hardships.

Hands that have seen endless fighting and held the hilt of blood a rusted sword hold you.

His hold is not gentle but it is perhaps the softest Mihawk could ever be.

And that’s ok.

Because in his hold it feels as if you're safe.

That he would take on the world to ensure that even when you’d left his arms you’d never have to worry.

And while that’s a far off dream, knowing Mihawk he’d try.

And that’s perhaps the most comforting thought behind it all.

Mihawk would try for you if you’d ask.

If you’d ask, you could have stayed at his abode.

If you’d asked he would do all that he could to ensure you’d never have to die and reappear again.

But he’d only do that if you’d ask.

He didn’t make that decision for you.

Didn’t decide that his judgment was better than yours and impede on your ability to make decisions.

He might have disagreed with some of your decisions but he respected you to make them.

And even more so, he respected you even if he was wrong.

He would never admit to it, but in those few moments you’d proven him wrong a certain pride shone in eagle eyes.

A certain uplift of the corner of his mouth.

“The humandrills miss you…I have a room open if you’d ever require it” it’s said quietly, like a secret exchanged beneath candlelight. It’s a valuable moment, it reminds you of that thing that zoro had said.

“A wound on the back is a swordsman’s shame”

Vulnerability was not something easily handed out by swordsmen, especially not one like Mihawk. A weakness, a so-called wound on his back or in this case his heart. It’s not something to be taken lightly. But luckily you know this well.

“I’d like that”

His mouth twitches, sloping upwards ever so slightly.

To him the hug you give is a moment where he can momentarily be at ease and feel as if he had a goal to accomplish.

Throughout aimless travel he tries to find his match yet all that come to him are disappointments. Battle after battle of people not being able to even land a single blow on him. It’s a constant that leaves him bitter and resigned as he’d toll away in his castle alone.

But with you in arms that carry the burden of being the best he finds himself with a mission that seems ever so slightly more achievable.

He could protect you as best he could.

Though that is an equally daunting task considering your penchant for death, it feels more feasible so long as you remain in his hold.

Small arms that are wrapped around his neck mean no harm.

He has no use in being on edge, not when you’d barely had the will to ever pick up a blade. Even when your life depended on it.

For a short moment the bloodthirsty marine hunter feels at ease.

You do not see him smile but you can feel the warmth he exudes when his hand cards through your hair.

Marco

The cries of “cheater!” And “we agreed that everyone else would get a head start!” Ring out from the very familiar voices of whitebeard’s division commanders outside the tent as an even more familiar voice yells out to them “early bird gets the worm” with an amused chuckle.

And it’s there that the small tent is lit up by flames of cyan blue and brilliant gold. Still in his partial zoan form his clawed feet press against the ground as tail feathers of gold trail behind him like a burning chain.

Flames flicker in a calm heat, letting small pops of sparks almost as if they were mini-fireworks.

A lazy smile is across his face as he sits leisurely across from you.

“Long time no see Marco, how’s the family?”

He chuckles, pointing his thumb to the now closed curtain door as the slightly muffled sounds of complaints just outside answer the question. “Licking their wounds but for the most part good.” There’s an audible “hey!” Once more behind the curtain which makes you chuckle in turn. But eventually the chuckles settle down into silence.

And for a moment besides the murmurs outside there’s a warm silence punctuated by the soft crackles of flame.

Warm blue and soft gold.

Flames that are simultaneously soft as feathers as they wrap around you. Cocooning you in their warm nest of a grasp, like a mother bird swaddling an egg. You could go on and on with the bird analogies, but none could ever describe the sense of comforting warmth that covers your heart in its inferno.

“We’ve all missed you”

The fire burns like a campfire on your heart. The soft oozy scent and taste of s’mores as the muffled laughs of friends and family. The sweetness of chocolate, slightly charred marshmallow and crumbly graham-cracker seem to appear like phantoms on your tongue.

“Pops checks the bounties for you”

A father’s warm hand places itself on your shoulder as the two of you sit by the fireplace. The fireplace sets the blaze on your heart to that of a warmer intensity. Frost presses against the nearby window and nearby boots, hats and mittens let snow melt into them. The chill of winter easing away at the warmth of home and the presence of a man who swore to love and protect you.

“Izou has been arranging for some old spare kimonos of his to be given to you”

A mothers warm hands cup your cheeks as a tender kiss is placed atop your forehead, red phantom lipstick staining your flesh as its kindness traveled to your burning heart. A light giggle echoes from rose lips, a giggle escaping your own as tears pinch at the edges of your eyes at her goodbye.

“Ace, Thatch, and I have been keeping track of your guys’s adventures”

The hearth of your heart feels the burn of the sun clench around it like a firm hug. Beneath a sun hat you pick at a freshly tended garden, soil pooling beneath your hands as you pat it down firmly. Roots tangle beneath the ground, red strawberries hanging low and ripe for the picking as they are placed in a wicker basket. brother places a glass on the ground beside you, cool lemonade fresh on your patched tongue and the bittersweet of it lingering as his blurred face is obscured by the shadow of his own hat.

Love burns you to the core. It’s heat scorching a heart that should be dead and reigniting its will to keep moving.

You melt into the cool flames of blue and gold.

Your tears don’t put it out but instead makes it wrap more securely around you.

[sabotsen]

Fragment - 21 - T1004

Pairing: Lee x Commandant/Reader

Notes: Set during Ch21 Spiral of Chronos & contains spoilers. Cross posted to ao3 bc I hate the paragraph formatting here. Word Count 3.6k.

Warnings: Subtle Jealousy and possessiveness. Brief mention of character death and panic attack.

This is a secret Santa gift for @yandere-yearnings. I love you Dar!!! Happy holidays. I hope this knife stabs you lovingly.

Emotions cannot be compressed into numbers, not in a way that does them justice.

The depth, the weight, the agony of them cannot be expressed in binary. There is simply too much — too little — to account for them in calculations. 

He knows this. 

Honestly, he would like to think himself rational enough to follow through his calculations without the influence of emotions altering the numbers. In most situations, that assessment would be correct. His measurements, calculations, predictions are all precision sharpened to a lethal bullet aimed with perfect trajectory. He is a machine, built for war and numbers. He is a soldier, eliminating obstacles for the best calculated result. 

But Gray Raven is not a factor that can be compressed into simple numbers and figures. You, in all your stubbornness and kindness, are not measurable no matter what calculations and equations he uses. 

Your smile makes him happy — flustered, even — and your laughter rings in his head for days, leaving no room for even the shortest string of binary. Your touch is a warmth, a fire, that burns away every equation he knew by breath. Your voice is a melody that drowns out every calculated plan on the tip of his tongue. Your mere presence — the steady guiding light of your M.I.N.D. beacon — pieces him together so gently, more human than machine. 

It’s a terrifying thing — to be stitched together so lovingly, to feel the weight of emotions more than the unchanging shape of numbers. It’s a foolish thing — to think of himself as a person and not a machine, a tool, a number in the data string. 

He loves you for it. He fears you for it. 

Because you make him more. Because you make him undefined. 

But he does not change. Because it’s him.

So here he remains. Trapped in a Möbius loop. Because it’s you. 

Lee is rational. 

He is not one to be swept into fleeting emotions. Reacting on impulse often leads to more messes and headaches. There is a logical explanation for everything. 

He knows this. He knows this. 

But there’s something about the sight before him that makes his jaw clench until metal grinds against metal. 

Maybe it’s the way your frame seems even smaller than usual as you kneel with one knee pressed against the floor, a sniper rifle that is not your own within your hands. Maybe it’s the way Wanshi curves against you, the white of his hair and outfit a stark contrast to the soft grays of your Gray Raven uniform as he embraces you like sea foam does the ocean waters. Maybe it’s the way you tilt your head just slightly towards him, his voice soft as he speaks. Maybe it’s the sharp glint in Wanshi’s golden gaze flitting over your shoulder as he notices Lee in the doorway.  Maybe it’s the smile upon Wanshi’s lips, the silent glee of a hawk with prized prey, as he bows his head and nearly brushes his lips against your ear.  Maybe it’s the way his hands drift over yours, adjusting your hold, then drift to ghost over your hips and shoulders, lingering just a little too long to merely correct your posture.

Maybe it’s all of them at once. 

It’s an ugly thing that flares to life in the metal confines of his chest, writhing and clawing at the cage of his ribs. It’s an ugly thing that spurs him into the shooting range, jaw clenched and fingers digging into his palms firmly enough to scrape metal against metal. 

He knows the name of it.

But Lee isn’t one to act on emotions. He has to be rational. He has to be level-headed. Someone has to be in order to keep Gray Raven out of trouble. 

But even so. 

It’s an ugly thing that rattles in his chest and claws up his throat. He tastes it on the back of his tongue as he steps up behind you.

“Commandant.”

He feels it burn like acid against his skin when golden eyes lock with his over your shoulder and Wanshi’s fingertips brush against the nape of your neck. 

He feels it oozing, seeping like blood at his feet, lapping at the edges of your clothes as you kneel upon the ground and finally, finally turn your attention up to him. 

Your smile is soft, gentle and welcoming as always. “Lee. Are you here to hide from Asimov for a while?” 

Lee frowns slightly, his brow furrowed. “Please don’t lump me in with you, Commandant.” 

You have no idea, do you? 

You laugh — a beautiful sound that soothes the ache in his chest only as you lean back, posture relaxing and Wanshi naturally shifting just a breath away. It’s still too close, in Lee’s opinion. There’s a burning in his fingertips, a twist in his wires that urges him to pry you free from the hawk’s talons. If it’s shooting advice you need, isn’t he enough? Do you doubt his skills? Or is he not close enough to you for you to ask such a thing of him? Has he done something, said something, or missed some sort of subtle hint that forced you to go to Wanshi instead? 

It’s an ugly thing that burns in his chest and drips like acid from his tongue. But he swallows it back. He is made of metal and numbers. 

Lee sighs, his voice steady as it always is — he forces it to be. “Did you forget?” 

You blink, head tilted slightly to the side and your silence is his answer. 

He tries to ignore the way Wanshi tilts his head ever so subtly in the same direction and the way the hawk’s hands still linger on your shoulders. 

“You’re going to be late to the meeting. Celica asked me to be sure you didn’t forget or run off to hide again.” 

“Ah.” The color momentarily drains from your face, lips twisting in a blanch. The butt of the rifle drifts down, away from the cradle of your shoulder as you set it down and look every bit the image of a cat grabbed by the scruff. “It wasn’t on purpose,” you mutter, “I really did forget.” 

If it weren’t for the hawk still pressed against your side, perhaps Lee would have smiled that small, subtle one you know him for. The one that vanishes if you pay it too much attention, fading like light refraction shifting rainbow hues to common daylight — a lasting secret only if you cradle it just right. 

But he does not smile as he shakes his head in exasperation and gently places his hand on your elbow. “Let’s go, unless you really want to be in trouble.” 

His movements are gentle as his hand on your arm guides you up, but his gaze is sharp and pointed on the hawk whose touch lingers too long as you move away to stand. 

That golden gaze only softens when you turn your head to Wanshi, that familiar somewhat sleepy expression splayed across his features as if it had always been there. As if a sleepy owl is all he has ever been and ever will be. 

“Sorry to run, Wanshi. Thanks for your time,” your voice is friendly as always, unaware, as you hand the rifle back to the Strike Hawk. 

Wanshi merely smiles softly and waves his free hand. “Take care, Commandant.” Golden eyes shift, just for a moment to glance over your shoulder at Lee before lazily gliding back to your face. His smile sharpens in the corners, too soft and subtle perhaps for you to notice — but Lee does. “You know where to find me.” 

Lee scowls, his hand on your elbow shifting and anchoring onto your shoulder. It is pure restraint that keeps him from digging his fingers into the folds of your clothes, and you merely take his gesture as a silent hint to keep moving — something innocent and friendly. So you let him coax you away by the shoulders as you offer a small farewell and final thanks to Wanshi and leave the room. He should be grateful you see his actions in such a light rather than for what they truly are. But that ugly feeling in his chest wails and mourns that you do not see through his act. 

Just before the door slides shut, Lee casts one last look over your shoulder to the construct who remained sitting where you left him. That sleepy expression is gone, replaced by something too patient and cold, too sharp and predatory as it follows your back. Wanshi smiles, the shape of it upon his lips every bit the silent threat — the promise — of a hawk’s shadow brushing over a rabbit. The cold metal of the door slides shut, separating you from the Hawk perched and waiting. 

It is only after he has guided you down the empty hallway far enough away from the shooting range for his nerves to settle that he realizes the weight of your gaze on him. You’re burning a hole through the side of his face and by the press of your lips he can tell you’re thinking something — worrying about something. His arm across your back slips away, his touch drifting down to your elbow in a soft brush — easily avoided. But you don’t. You allow the soft, ghost’s touch of his fingers against you. 

“What.” He’s frowning. He knows he is. 

You’ve known him long enough by now not to be deterred by his blunt speech or soured expression. If anything, perhaps you find comfort in it — familiarity in the easy banter you’ve developed with him and his dry humor. But there is thoughtful caution as you watch him now and he traces even the smallest movements in your gaze as you observe him. 

“I don’t have a meeting with Celica today.” 

There’s a note in your voice, subtle and easily missed. Light and almost airy — it’s the soft smile hidden in your voice that doesn’t play upon your lips. 

That tone is the only reason his reply is as blunt and dry as any other common conversation, “Gray Raven is truly in dire straits if our Commandant is suffering memory loss so early in age.” 

You laugh, a hand rising to hide the bright smile he adores. You have a bad habit of doing that — tucking smiles and laughter behind your hands as if they are stolen burdens not meant to trouble others. Perhaps the war has done that to you, or maybe it was something else — the cruel words of others. He never did narrow down the origin, as you’ve had that habit since the day he met you. 

You should smile more, he thinks, as your hand falls away from your lips and the small hint of a smile remains. It’s the same one that plays upon your lips whenever he brushes off his flustered expression as his cooling system failing. But just like those moments, you do not call him on his bluff. 

Instead, your hand shifts and taps his that still lingered on your elbow. “How are you holding up?” The worry in your voice is evident despite the light cheer you try to hide it behind. “We haven’t seen you lately. I know you like to keep busy but you’re not allowed to pick up Asimov’s workaholic tendencies.” 

Lee tilts his head to the side, his frown softening a fraction but his brow furrows even more. “Do you not read the reports I send?” 

“I read them, but that’s not what I asked.” Your hand on his shifts, interlacing your fingers together and if he were still made of flesh and bone perhaps you would have felt the way his heart would have stumbled, the way his fingers would have trembled. But he is made of metal and numbers, and he is still as the warmth of your hand sinks into his. “Are you alright, Lee?” 

That ugly ache in his chest finally settles, soothed by your touch, but his thoughts tumble over each other in a silent maelstrom. His gaze falls to your hand in his, the way the softness of your touch contrasts so cruelly with the hard metal of him. What is there to say in this situation? Progress is being made on the specialized frame, everything necessary to know is logged within the reports you receive daily. So why are you asking? Why are you worried? 

He won’t fail you or Gray Raven. Never. 

The only thing stopping him from fully syncing with the frame is just those— 

“Lee?” 

Your voice pulls him from his thoughts and he feels the way your hand squeezes his gently. He hears the concern in your tone, feels it brush against him like the warmth of a blanket —  cozy in its familiarity, even if it is foolish. Carefully, he returns the gesture, ever mindful of his strength. But as he lifts his gaze up to your face, his breath catches in the metal of his lungs. 

Red.

The hallway engulfed in red and black — scorched and burning. Smoke curls and spills from the warped, gaping doorways on the right, billowing up and crawling through the broken ceiling above. On his left is an opening in the wall that frames a hellscape beyond — the earth molten and burning, shimmering in the blazing heat as the roar of flames nearly drowns out the screams and wails, human and metal alike. The sky above, once blue and freckled with stars, is now shrouded by the gray billows of smoke and ash. 

Grounded. Ruined. Burning. 

When did they fall? How could Babylonia, the cradle of humanity, have fallen? 

His hands shake.

Something’s wrong.

Information pours into him, drowning him — the swell of the ocean crashing into a man lost and dehydrated in the desert. 

He sees the figures of soldiers — constructs — fighting off in the distance. But it is not the corrupted they turn their guns upon. In the smoke and flames, he sees humans. He hears their screams, despite the distance — despite the fire roaring around him. He sees the constructs fall upon each other when the fire and wounds claim the humans. He sees them burn and melt in the heat, sees the way they tear their own limbs from their bodies and the arc of sparks that sparkle in the smoke like mournful stars. 

Something in his hand pulls upon him— too soft, too gentle, too delicate for this hell. 

“Lee!” 

Your voice cuts through the smoke and ash to pull his attention back. 

His gaze snaps from the sprawling burning battlefield to your hands on his then up to your face. But the sight of you crushes the metal ribs in his chest. Blood. Blood trails from your nose and dots the corners of your eyes like ruby tears. A dried trail of blood lingers in the corner of your mouth, lips too pale despite the crimson that stains them. Your vitals aren’t showing in the corner of his vision and panic spikes in his chest. 

The virus. 

It’s the virus. 

You’re ill. 

You’re hurt. 

His hands fly to your face to wipe the corners of your eyes, to your neck to find your pulse. 

It’s fine. It’ll be fine. 

Liv. Where is Liv? 

He has to get you to her. 

Serums. 

You need serums. 

Lee doesn’t hear the way you call his name as his hands fly to his chest, patting down his pockets. Where are the serums? He always carried some on him for you. Where…. Where are they?

Did he drop them in the crash? 

Did they shatter? 

Your hands follow in the wake of his, trying to grasp and still him, but he doesn’t notice. 

You need help. 

You can’t stay here. 

He has to —-

“Lee!” 

Your hands cradle his face, holding him in place and forcing his gaze back on you. 

Immediately, he feels the weight of your connection, the steadying link of your beacon sheltering him. A piercing headache cuts through him, pierces him like a lance straight through his head. Crippling. Agonizing. It blinds his vision and nearly brings him to his knees as a shrill sound shatters his audio modular — the dying wails of a beast, a warning call drowning out the roar of the flames. 

Your hands, the warmth of your touch, and your voice calling his name are the only things that keep him on his feet. He blinks, vision clearing as your worried expression comes into view — he feels the way your concern bleeds from you through the connection, a hint of fear rippling in the undercurrents. 

“Lee?” Your thumbs brush against his cheeks. “What happened? Are you ok?” 

Lee swallows, fingers finding purchase in the folds of your shirt. “Yeah,” he steadies himself, forces the trembling in his fingers to cease as he begins to count. Numbers, strings, data — anything to calm himself. “Just a headache.” 

“A headache?” Your tone is incredulous, a scowl on your lips as you pull his face closer to yours. 

“It happens,” is all he says. His gaze lingers in the corners of your eyes and trails down to your lips. No blood. He pries one hand from the folds of your clothes and gently wraps it around your wrist, fingers pressing lightly against your pulse. Steady, normal. Your numbers match the vitals in the corner of his vision.

You’re ok. 

You’re safe.

“Lee,” his name is a short, clipped thing. 

Slowly, reluctantly, he pulls away from your grasp and you let him, fingers lingering against his cheeks before he is out of reach. Your gaze is a heavy thing upon him as he glances to his left. The metal wall remains intact and from the narrow window outside he can see the vast  black starry expanse of space. 

There is no fire.

There is no smoke. 

“I’m fine, Commandant.” Lee takes a breath, his attention returning to you as his expression returns to the neutral calm you know him for. “They happen, now and then. It’s fine.” 

Doubt needles against the back of his mind through your connection, nibbling on the edges of him like a mouse. You don’t believe him. He doesn’t blame you. 

Lee doesn’t like the expression on your face, the way your lips turn down in a frown weighted by worry or the slight shimmer in your eyes. Your hands find his again, warm and gentle. He does not pull away as you gently tug on his arm. 

“Let’s go back to the lounge.” 

Lee does not argue. Quietly, he follows you, his hand in yours as you lead the way down the hall. 

It feels natural — 

It feels like home — 

If you lead the way, your hands on him to guide, he would follow you anywhere. Even into —

>>Memory playback paused.

>> Data corŗ̶̥̮̣̦͈̗̣̤̚ū̵͙̦̦͙̠͓̝͖̦̒̔̈̄̒p̴̢̎̈̄̂t̵͎̩͓̮͚̹̹͔̄͌̏͋͒̿̓́̄̎̓̀̆̈́̊͝i̶̧̛͙̥͖̫̹̘̤̳͎͈̜̍̒̏̔͒͐ͅơ̶̢̧̛̰̹̫̻͕͖̤̺͈͉̲͑͂̈́̃̂̅̀̿͗̅͗̃͘̕ṉ̷̢̡̛͙̙̹͚̠̲̦̞̖̤̱͗̈́̀͂͗̔̿̈́̈́̌̓͂̓͘͜͝͠ ̸̡̞͍̯̫͉̘̭̗̝̭̪͎̥̺͔̈́̄͑̐̆̾̅́͘̚f̸̧̱͎͈̣̲̣͓̖̟͎̆̏̚ơ̸̢̧̢̠̙̞̯͍̫͖̪̩̰̪̯͚̫̓͂͗̽̐̋̆̈́̒͊̊͋́͠͝u��̝͇͍̰̜̥̣͊̍͆̈̌ņ̴̧̨̡͚͕̞̟̥͚̱̠͍̳̪́̽́͒̂͛͛̿̑̑͊͋͝͠͠ͅd̶̨͕̤̱̞̯̃̍̍̈͆̀́̽̇̿̏̽̍͛̚͠͠

>> Terminating playback. 

Thunder is the first thing he hears. 

Like the last wail of a dying man, it rumbles across the cold desolate landscape. A whale song unanswered. 

He knows it is not truly thunder, but rather the chaotic storm of information continuously flowing and merging into the center of this space, swallowed and devoured. It is the last sound made by those who came before and a warning to those who will come after. It is the sound of a body falling from the heavens, another stone constructing the Tower of Babel. 

Lee listens to it reverberate as he lingers on the last memory that flowed through him. 

How long has it been since he felt warmth — your warmth? 

Hard to say. Harder still to remember where ‘he’ originated from. Too many memories have been swallowed and merged into him, too much data compiled and stored for him to know which were originally ‘his’ and which came from ‘others’. 

What happened to you — to that version of you? 

Was it the fire that claimed you? Was it sickness? Was it age? Was it a bullet he failed to shield you from? Was it the corrupted he didn’t spot in time? Was it the Red Tide that swelled too quickly to stop?

Lee quiets.

Around him, data converges into ill begotten shapes only to crumble and shatter into streams of numbers. He feels it — in the not too distant future, in the not too far gone past — a ripple in “time”. Another version of ‘him’ who failed is falling from the Tower of Babel. 

He’s lost count of the bodies he has devoured. He’s lost count of the memories he has stored, stolen and kept. He’s lost count of the times he has failed.

The bodies pile up like stones. Brick by brick. One day he will reach the heavens. One day he will reach the top of the tower. 

He has to.He has to.

There is no other option.

Because there must be a world where you survive. There must be a future where you still exist.

Someone falls into this pitiful M.I.N.D., tucked into a corner of space and time long forgotten and overlooked. 

Another body. Another failure.

Lee sees ‘himself’ bloodied and wounded crumbled in a heap upon a shape made of data.

Thunder rumbles in the distance. A mournful wail. A warning.

Lee resigns himself once more and pulls ‘himself’ closer into the center of the storm.

He has to know what happened in that world of ‘his’. He has to learn. 

He only hopes he will see you again.

Even if only for a moment.

Even if it is only a fragment of a memory.

He misses you. 

>> Uploading dá̸̦͎̩̪̞̗̞̯̖̬̽́̏̋͝t̸̙̟͈̮̦̬͈̬̰͍͉̩͕̞͕͗͐̉̎̽̋̄̂͒͑͝a̷͉͕̘̍̀͛̇͋…̵̛̦̼̦̫̺̠͍̗͑́̎̏̽͐̐̆̎͠͝͝͝.̶̛̲͓͓̩͚̞̠͇͔̮͖̾͐̋̽̐͌̌̑͆̓̾̕ ̷̣̦͖̫̟͙̏̃̑͑̾1��̧̛̥̱̰͚̽͒̐̀̍̀̇̄͛̾̇̎̕ͅ%̴̧̡͖̮̝̰̖̦̠̝̤̎̅̎̈́̊̌͂͜͝͝ͅ…̴̛̳͉̙̝͙͂̎͌̅ ̶̢̨̡̢̛͚̩͈̠̼̝͔̭͍3̶̛̺̖͎̂̋̈́̉̀̌̉͒͂̏̚͘̕͝%̵̨͈͉̭̟̣̟̾͑̀̓̎͛̋̀͋̀̒̎̂̽̒͋̈́.̵̡̨̗̩̱̣̯͉͓͖̹̗͐͗̌̐̄͌̈́́̋̈́̓͘.̸̢͚͈̗͍̘̂̄̀̊ ̵̧̨̜̯̗̖̱̬̭̫̬̬̳̞̤͆̏͒́̊̌͌̐̾̈̇̀̕ͅͅ

[islandtarochips]

THE WARRIOR WITHIN (Modern Warfare I Fanfic)

CHAPTER TWO:

Piccadilly Circus, London

Gaz and the CTSFO were in the car. Looking for any terrorist in the road that was in the traffic jam.

He was talking to a man named Raven on the coms. While looking around through the window. Talking  about the terrorist invading the town and might use multiple attacks, a bomb threat or something worse.

Gaz did ask him if they had any snipers for an assist. Raven had advised the Sergeant to NOT engage or even give the citizens a panic. The man wouldn’t want that to alert the people. So they have to do the difficult ways to find those terrorists.

“Don’t turn London into a WARZONE. Clear?”

“......yeah. Crystal. Out.” Gaz sighed as he leaned back and turned to look at his team.

“Looks like we’re on our own lads…” One of Gaz’s teammates spoke.

Gaz nodded agreeing with what they said before looking at the other man who was next to him. “Are you ready for this, Sergeant?”

A man with short mullet blond hair, loading his gun before looking at Gaz. “Ready as you are, mate.”

This man is named Damien Whitlock. He was picked to assist Gaz and his team from training with the SAS. He is grateful to have him on his team. The more the merrier right?

Gaz smiled a bit before hearing one of his men spot the white van. Who was slowly driving by them.

“Heads up, white van.” One of them said. 

Gaz and Damien looked as they saw the van slowly passing by. “That’s them.” Gaz tapped on Damien’s shoulder to get out of the car while calling Raven.

“Sabre to Raven, white van, multiple military age males, weapons visible, moving to intercept.”

Damien quickly got out of the car with the others as Gaz followed behind.

Raven replied back saying to not engage unless they pulled even further threats.

Gaz and his team had already got one of the enemies but it was already too late that the van was trying to get away and it EXPLODED.

Gaz and Damien, even the other teams, fell back and were almost blacked out before hearing gunshots.

Gaz groaned as he looked up to see the enemy started shooting down his men. “Shit!” He pulled out his gun and shot down one before looking up behind to see if Damien was around.

He saw that the Sergeant was slowly getting up.

“Get up! And get out of here! Save the other civilians as MUCH as you can!” Gaz called out to him before shooting down the enemies.

Damien nodded at Gaz’s command before he got up and quickly went the opposite way. Avoiding the gunshots.

While Gaz is going the other direction.

Every officer in the town was doing their best to get the citizens out of the area. Even Damien, Gaz and some of Gaz’s men tried to stop the terrorist. But some of them have made it but some have not. This has been chaos.

On one side of the town, Damien was dragging one of the officers who had his leg gotten shot by the enemy’s fire. He dragged them inside a shop as he kept shooting. “Just stay low! The medic will be here soon!”

Damien told them before going out and shooting down most of the enemies. He ran out to the open before hearing someone crying.

He saw it was a little boy crying while crouching down next to a dead body. It must be his parents who got unlucky.

“Shit…” The Sergeant quickly moved toward the boy. He put his gun away and crouched down in front of the child. “Hey there, kid. You alright?”

The boy looked up at him as he kept crying and raising his hands up towards him. As he wanted to be carried.

Damien felt his heart ache to see the poor boy like this. He gently carried the boy up and ran back to the shop. “Don’t worry, I got you.” He said it softly as he held the boy close.

He was almost there to the shop before he jolted at a bullet flying through his head. “FUCK!” He quickly took cover behind a big pillar and put the boy behind him.

The boy screamed in fear as he covered his little ears from hearing the gunshots.

Damien tried to shoot the enemy but they kept on hiding behind the broken cars. It's hard for him to take a good shot. And he knows there are MORE of them.

He looked at the little boy, trying to calm him down. Before he looked at the door of the shop. It’s only a few steps away from where they are at. So he looked at the kid. “Alright, listen carefully.”

Damien started to explain to the boy while looking back to see if the enemy was popping out of their hiding spot. “On a count of THREE. You RUN over there and stay inside. I will do my best to protect you. Okay?”

He could see the fear in the boy’s eyes and saw him shake his head. 

“Hey, I know you’re scared. But you need to be brave for me, alright? You’ll be safe. I PROMISE.” Damien gently touched the little boy’s shoulder and gave him a reassuring look.

The child looked at him before breathing calmly as he slowly nodded.

“Good lad.”

The two flinched at a gunshot hitting against the pillar; before Damien tried to take a shot but missed.

“Ok. On THREE. One…two…”

As he was about to say three. He heard the sound of a helicopter flying over. “What the-” He took a peek to see a spot light was pointing at the enemies.

And he flinched a bit seeing the only two men had been shot in the head. Seeing them fall down. And that’s when he realized of taking this opportunity to run. So he took the little boy’s hand and quickly ran to the shop.

The citizens saw Damien bring the boy as he gave it to the woman. “Keep him safe and DON’T come out unless I say so, alright?”

The woman nodded as she kept the boy close.

Damien quickly ran out as he got his gun ready. And saw the spotlight is still shining down. He also saw the rope dropped down as he stayed under the shadow.

He pointed straight to where the rope was at and waited. Then he heard someone’s voice calling out.

“E te tietie saogalemu, lelei?” (You ride safe, alright?) A woman’s voice was heard from where he was standing.

Damien kept his guard up before seeing someone slide down and land on the ground. A woman who was just walking around as she signals someone in the helicopter. And saw it left before she turned around and spotted him.

“Hey! You!” The woman called out to Damien as she was waving her hand at him.

He saw that she was wearing gears, sleeveless black shirt and her hairstyle in a tight fishtail braid.

He pointed his gun at her. Being cautious as he doesn’t know if this woman is ALSO a terrorist.

“Woah woah there! I’m on YOUR side!” She showed her patch on the chest of her vest. A patch that says Warriors Task Force. While raising one hand towards him. “Not a terrorist.”

Damien slowly put his gun down as he looked at her confusingly. “Who are you?” He demanded her to speak.

“I’m Sergeant Agnes Falagi. But you can call me Blast. My General had sent me here to look for Captain Price. And I’m guessing you’re not him?”

He shook his head. “No. I’m not. But I know who he is.”

“But do you know WHERE he’s at?”

“No…” Then he heard his radio turning on and heard gunshots on the other side of the line.

“Damo?! Damo, are you there?! This is Gaz!”

Damien pressed his radio. “Damo’s here. Go for Gaz. How copy?”

“Need your help on this side mate! These bloody terrorists are everywhere! Are you able to come over?”

“Yeah, I’ll be there.” Then he looked at the woman, who is named Agnes. Seeing her looking around before looking back at him. 

She smiled at him and waved at him a little. 

“...I’m also bringing a newcomer.”

“Who?”

“I-I’ll explain later. Just hang tight!” Damien hung up the call and then looked at Agnes. “Okay. Listen carefully, I’m not exactly sure if I should TRUST you.”

“It’s alright! I understand! So are we gonna go help your usos (brothers or bro) or what?” Agnes asked as she tilted her head a bit.

“My what? N-Never mind. On me.”

Agnes nodded as she stepped aside. “Lead the way, handsome.”

He just rolled his eyes when she called him that as he passed by her and led the way.

The two kept their guards up as they watched each other’s six. And taking down some enemies while on their way. Before reaching one of the soldiers on the other side of town.

“Hey! I’m looking for Sergeant Garrick! Have you seen him?” Damien asked them.

The soldier nodded as he told the two that he went inside the Tanto Building for any hostages. 

“Thanks!” Then he looked at Agnes before nodding at her. Telling her to follow him.

Agnes nodded back before following him inside the building.

The two Sergeants stayed cautious before hearing someone’s voice. They followed it before Damien saw Gaz up on the second floor with a man who he recognized.

“Price?”

“Kae! That hostage has a bomb around him!” Agnes said it loudly before running upstairs.

Damien saw her run up as he tried to stop her. “Wait- Ugh!” He groaned as he started to follow her quickly.

“It won’t OPEN!” Gaz said as he tried to take the lock off.

The man, who is a hostage with a bomb around him, started to panic. “P-Please! I want to see my girls! Let me see my girls!”

Price grabbed Gaz and looked at him. “CAN you help him?!”

“I’m TRYING!”

The two men were trying their best to help the hostages but seeing it down in 15 seconds. Gaz has no idea how to take it off.

“I-I…I can’t…” Gaz said defeatingly before jolting at Price pushing him back.

“No time!” As Price was about to push the man down-

“WAIT!”

Price and Gaz looked to see Agnes running in. She brought out her knife before stopping Price from doing to the man.

“Give me a sec!” She told him to wait as she scanned her eyes onto the wires.

“What the bloody hell are you doing?! The bomb is about to go OFF!” Price yelled at her as he saw the timer. 

Only 8 seconds left.

Damien ran in and saw this scene in front of his eyes. “SERGEANT!”

5 seconds left.

Price quickly ran towards where Gaz is at to cover him while Damien quickly took cover.

The hostage started to close his eyes tightly before Agnes cut one of the wires. And the timer had finally stopped at 1 second left.

Everything was silenced. No one was breathing after that. Except for the hostage who was sighing deeply with relief before starting to laugh with happiness.

“TH-THANK YOU! OH THANK YOU!” He loudly said with joy in his tone as he quickly hugged Agnes.

She giggled while hugging him back. “Of course! Disarming the bomb is my SPECIALTY!”

Damien, Price and Gaz looked at Agnes with shockness on their faces.

“Now, how about we get these things off and take the rest of you out of here?” Agnes said with a sweet smile before helping the man up.

After getting everyone out of the building safely. Price looked over at Damien with a small smile under that beard.

“Sergeant Whitlock. It’s been a while, lad.”

Damien smiled back at the Captain before giving him a firm shake on the hands. “It has been, sir. Still glad that you’re moving with those old bones.”

Price chuckled a bit.

“You two know each other?” Gaz asked as he stepped in.

Price smiled at Gaz as he touched Damien’s shoulder. “Of course, his Captain and I used to work together. Helping each other out.” He looked at Damien. “Helping each other arses.”

Damien smiled at Price before seeing Agnes was talking to one of the officers. Gaz and Price also looked at where Agnes was at.

“Do you know her, Sergeant?” Gaz asked Damien.

“Not at all, Garrick. I JUST met her on the other side of town. She told me that her General sent her here.” Then he looked at Price. “To assist YOU, Captain.”

Price looked at Damien with a confused look. “To assist ME? What’s the name of her General?”

“I…don’t actually know. I didn’t ask.”

The three men kept staring at this strange woman who looked so seemingly…HAPPY all the time. Even during a VERY serious situation.

“She’s…very odd.” Gaz said with a puzzle look. Trying to find out who this woman was.

Agnes had finished talking with the officers before walking over to where the boys were. She stood in front of Price before saluting to him. “Sergeant Agnes Falagi, sir! It’s an honor to meet you!”

Price had looked carefully at this woman. Looking at her up and down. “...at ease, soldier.”

Agnes lowered her hand as she smiled at him. Then Price started to ask her a few questions.

“Who sent you here?”

“General Kalani, sir.”

“Kalani?” Price paused at hearing that familiar name. “She sent you here to assist me?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Why? How did she know about this mission?”

“Your friend, Kate Laswell called her. Asking for OUR assistant.”

Price now understands. Laswell was connected with General Kalani. The woman who he thought that they’ll never be in contact with.

“Bloody hell, Kate…you sure know how to pull a few strings.” He mumbled his words to himself.

The four of them walked out and headed towards a statue. Seeing so many dead bodies covered with white sheets. Police cars' sirens were echoing through the streets while the red and blue lights kept flashing around the dark corners.

Agnes looked at every body that she passed by. Feeling sorry for the people who had died. “Never seen THIS many bodies back in Afghanistan…” She said it softly before kneeling down next to one of the dead bodies. She saw it was a small one and she knows that it’s not an adult.

Damien could see Agnes was in a moment of silence. He slowly walked over and took a look at the small body covered with a small white sheet. He tightened his grip as he felt anger and disgust.

“These bastards…they are SO going down.” 

Damien then looked at Price and Gaz were talking from afar. Before he tapped on Agnes’s shoulder and tilted his towards the Captain and the Sergeant’s talking.

She nodded as she stood up and walked with him.

“Then why have we got our hands TIED? Let’s just take the bloody gloves off and FIGHT.” Gaz said with anger in his tone. Thinking of why would everyone ignore the danger that is going on instead of fighting back.

Damien and Agnes walked in while listening to Gaz talking.

Price was also listening to him seeing him looking upset.

“Sir…”

Price nodded for him to continue.

He took a deep breath before turning himself around as he looked at the Captain. “We don’t stand a chance in HELL with these rules of engagement, Captain.”

Price glanced at Damien who had been looking at Gaz. Seeing he was agreeing with him. Damien glanced back at Price while Gaz continued to talk.

“They can tell us where, they can tell us when. DON’T tell us how.” Gaz looked straight into Price’s eyes.

The Captain could see the anger and annoyance from the Sergeant’s eyes. For they know that they can’t do anything while following the rules.

“My men were tracking that cell for WEEKS.”

“You had actionable intel on this?”

“Quite a bit, sir.”

Price then looked at Damien. Seeing him nodded as whatever Gaz said was true.

Price took a deep breath trying to think about it before looking at Agnes. “Well, Sergeant? What do you think?”

The female Sergeant looked at Price and then at Gaz and Damien. She pondered a bit before shrugging. “Well, there’s nothing wrong with breaking a FEW rules. And besides…”

She grinned at them. “Where’s the fun in that? If their rules failed to protect them. Why follow them?”

“She’s right.” Damien started to agree with Agnes and Gaz. “These terrorists won’t stop if we don’t fight back, Captain.”

Price looked at the three Sergeants as he felt his phone buzzing. He took it out of his pocket and looked at them. “Alright then, you three are with me.” Then he walked away while answering the phone call.

Damien sighed before looking at Gaz. “You alright?”

Gaz took a deep breath and nodded. “Yeah…I’m fine.” Then he looked at Agnes. “So…Falagi, right? The name’s Gaz. You came in at the wrong time during the danger.”

Agnes giggles and winked at him. “DANGER is my middle name.”

“I thought it was Blast.” Damien said while chuckling.

Gaz raised an eyebrow at Agnes. “Blast?”

“Yeeeaaah…I’ll tell you about it on our way!” Agnes said happily while walking with the two.

To Be Continued…

<- Chapter One Chapter Three ->

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

Words: 2912

Characters:

Damien "Damo" Whitlock -> @kaitaiga

Agnes "Blast" Falagi -> Me

Tagging: @alypink @welldonekhushi @deeptrashwitch @caelums-fate

@justasmolbard @revnah1406 @sleepyconfusedpotato

[deathmetalunicorn1]

I know Halloween is still so far away, but what if child!reader decided to dress up as the RoR characters for Halloween and said the characters are their heroes? My goddaughter did this on Halloween last year, dressing up as me and calling me her hero. And yes, I cried so hard at that.

OMG STOP! THIS IS SO CUTE! I’M GONNA CRY!!

-Odin- His eye twitches lightly, his lip quivering as he stares down at your beaming face, wearing clothes that was very similar to his own, long dark robes, a little eye patch over the wrong eye, and holding two stuffed raven toys, one white and one black. Loki can’t stop grinning, taking photo after photo while Odin is struggling to not succumb to your cuteness. Goll hands you your plastic pumpkin as Odin manages to speak, “Why are you dressed like me?” you just smile brightly, “Because you’re my hero, Papa Odin!” Loki, Goll, and Odin fall to their hands and knees, clutching their hearts as you tried to put your plush toys on your shoulders, unaware of their plight.

-Buddha- Can’t keep the grin off his face as you ran over to him, dressed up just like him, holding an overflowing candy bucket, “Look-look! I got a lot!!” he couldn’t talk, pride swelling inside of him as his smile almost hurt. Brunnhilde couldn’t help but take a photo, which made Buddha send her a grin as he handed Y/N another lollipop, “Y/N wanted to dress up as her hero~” just when he thought his smile couldn’t get wider he picked you up, spinning you around, making you squeal as he laughed warmly, making you giggle and squeal in delight. Once he calmed down he handed you another candy bucket, “C’mon, lets go get some more candy!” the two of you raise your hands in unison, cheering, which made Brunnhilde giggle again, taking another photo.

-Qin Shi Huang- His smile is almost instant, seeing you approach and chuckles, kneeling down, “My emperor!” you beam at him, leaping into his arms and the two of you hug while he spun around, making you squeal before he set you down, checking out the different parts of your outfit, including makeup to mimic the tattoos on his body. The only thing you didn’t have was the blindfold, but other than that, you were a mirror image. You had matching red candy buckets and headed off to trick or treat as a pair, but he had to inquire, “Why did you want to dress up as me, Y/N? Not that I’m complaining!” you beam up at him, not at all bothered, “I wanted to be my hero for Halloween, so I’m you!” you kept walking, unaware that Huang collapsed to his knees, holding his mouth as he cried on how pure you were.

-Simo Hayha- He was surprised when he saw what looked to be a mini-him trotting over, holding a toy gun that was bright pink and a match candy bucket, with Hades behind you, holding the leash of Cerberus walking up from behind you, accompanying you. You beam brightly up to Simo who had a weak smile on his face, like he was shocked before he kneeled, “You’re dressed up like me?” his own dog licked your cheek in greeting, making you laugh, “I wanted to dress up like my hero!” the warmth in his heart almost made him burst into flames before he glanced over to Hades who just sent the sniper a slight grin before you turned, pointing up at Cerberus, “I even got a doggy of my own! Cerberus is my best friend!” Cerberus whined lightly, licking your cheek which made the two men laugh that you were able to get even the fiercest beast wrapped around your finger before you led the charge for trick or treating!

[deerhillsniperservice]

Fallout 4-2-3 OCs!

Sinclair Deerhill (Fallout 4) : a mercenary from Goodneighbor with family mystery. Got a surprising good sniper rifle named Raven's Call and a high kill count with 5 star reviews.

Diane White (Fallout 2) : Enclave citizen on the oil rig with generic Christian mom mentality and Live Laugh Love on her wall

Arin Autumn (Formerly Arin Fox) : A vault dweller trained and sent to Raven Rock as expendable soldier. Ended up dating officer Augustus Autumn after she became a talented sharpshooter. Nicknamed Raven's call

[blubushie]

Hi my name is Blu Dark’ness Dementia Raven Bushie and I have dirty strawberry blonde hair with purple streaks and red tips that is in a mullet and light blue-grey eyes like limpid tears and a lot of people tell me I look like Sniper TF2 (AN: if u don’t know who he is get da hell out of here!). I’m not related to Moxxi Borderlands but I wish I was because she’s a major fucking hottie. I’m a vampire but my teeth are straight and white. I have pale white skin. I’m also a witch, and I go to a magic school called Hogwarts in England where I’m in the seventh year (I’m 23). I’m a bushman (in case you couldn’t tell) and I wear mostly flannel. I love walmart and I buy all my clothes from there. For example today I was wearing a red flannel shirt with the first few buttons undone and a brown cargo pants, a Marine Corps KA-BAR on my left hip in the sheathe attached to my belt and dingo (cowboy) boots. I was wearing shooting glasses, a leather hat with a crocodile tooth band, a crocodile tooth necklace and holding my pre-64 Winchester Model 70. I was walking outside Hogwarts. It was snowing and raining so there was no sun, which I was very happy about. A lot of preps stared at me. I put up my middle finger at them.

“Hey Blu!” shouted a voice. I looked up. It was…. sniper tf2!

“What’s up sniper?” I asked.

“Nothing.” he said shyly.

But then, I heard my friends call me and I had to go away.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

AN: i hop u liek it XD !!

This is hilarious unfortunately I have to die now

[sleepyorchidmonster]

Twst Rwby Au, but it's just the twst characters in the plot of rwby.

Silver as Ruby because of the silver eyes, and the fact that they both look up to their parents. Malleus is Yang, but still as awkward as ever, dude can't socialize unless you talk about gargoyles or weapons to him. (Also Yang's name means sunny little dragon, so it's PERFECT)

As for the rest of the team, Leona is Blake because cat people (Farena is the leader of the White Fang but was killed by Adam, so there's this whole revenge quest in later volumes). He and Malleus are a couple just like the bees!

Kalim as Weiss! Both white haired heirs with too much on their shoulders, though he is much nicer than V1 Weiss.

Oz is Crowley because headmasters with ulterior motives and a big relevance to the plot. Yuu is Oscar, they're suffering SO MUCH. Grim is a grimm, but he just behaves like a cat and protects Yuu.

Riddle as Pyrrha. Both talented redheads with potential and a sense of duty that ended up kickstarting the plot (Riddle's overblot and the Fall of Beacon).

Still not sure about the rest of JNPR, since part of me wants to add Trey and Cater as Ren and Nora, while the other wants Jamil and Azul to be part of the team... maybe add Ruggie and just make it a second year team. Or forget renora and let it be just the octotrio annoying Riddle until his untimely demise.

Team STRQ is just all of Malleus and Silver's parents. Meleanor is Summer Rose, still haunting the narrative, Lillia is Qrow, training all the kids and being the fun uncle/parent, Levan is Raven, following the tradition to leave their loved ones for reasons. The Dawn Knight as Tai.

Whether they are all dating or it's just Meleanor/Lillia/Levan with Dawn knight tagging along as the calm uncle it's up for debate.

Rambling a bit here, but Ruggie or Azul for Jaune would be interesting... Ruggie doesn't have a semblance and forged his documents to attend Beacon Academy, but ends up as Riddle's partner, who, despite being mad at the rule breaking, notes that Ruggie is smart and skilled and the lack of semblance shouldn't be a problem, it will come sooner or later (Ruggie made a really good first impression during initiation, also Crowley didn't seem to care for the lie, so no problem).

As for Azul, well, he also forged his documents and is SO SELF-CONSCIOUS of lacking a semblance or not having the best stamina, but his team encourages him and he becomes a talented sniper. Then Riddle dies and it's depression time, especially if we keep the bit where Pyrrha locks Jaune away for his safety. He just thinks he is holding people back and blames himself.

I tried to add a few ships, but mostly went with the characters and themes that matched. It also helps that rwby and twst are based on fairytales, though only a few people actually match. Since we have Kalim as Weiss instead of Neige (the team wouldn't survive if it was three NRC characters with a RSA student).

[alcestas-sloboda]

Do you have any Ukrainian movies to recommend to non-Ukrainiam speakers? I'm learning but it's slow progress, so I'm limited to Eng/Ger subbed movies.

Already seen Atlantis, Donbas (Loznitsa), Cyborgs, and Blood Sausage but curious to hear what Ukrainians consider essentials and would recommend. Definitely still want to see Luxembourg, Luxembourg

Thanks, all the best & слава Україні!

recently Netflix has added a bunch of Ukrainian films and besides Luxembourg, Luxembourg, I would recommend watching My thoughts are silent, I work at the cemetery, Pamfir, Rhino - all in different genres, so it’s hard to give a general idea about the plots and the language that the characters use (I’m talking vernacular or dialectisms like in Pamfir). There is also a bunch of war films, the latest one was Myrniy-21, one of the roles is played by Pavlo Lee, who was killed in Irpin' when he was driving in a civilian car with other volunteers, but with regards to the film, can’t say anything because I haven’t seen it. Sniper: The White Raven is in the same category. Homeward is a masterpiece but it’s not only in Ukrainian but Crimean Tatar.

Unfortunately for you, you asked the wrong person because I don’t watch a lot of films but hopefully this little list will useful.

[typingtess]

NCIS: Los Angeles Season 14 Rewatch: “Game of Drones”

The basics: A bombing at a drone facility kills one, injures another and sets off the search for some terrorists in Los Angeles.

Written by: R. Scott Gemmill wrote/cowrote “The Only Easy Day”, “Brimstone”, “Breach”, “LD50”, “Found”, “Borderline”, “Absolution”, “Archangel”, “Tin Soldiers”, “Impostors”, “Cyberthreat”, “Honor”, “The Watchers” and both sides of the NCIS Los: Angeles/Hawaii Five-0 “Touch of Death” episodes, “Recruit”, “Free Ride”, “Wanted”, “Ravens and The Swans”, “Impact”, “War Cries”, both ends of the “Deep Trouble” season five finale/season six premiere, “Inelegant Heart”, “Praesidium”, “Traitor”, “Active Measures” (season seven premiere), “Blame It On Rio”, “Internal Affairs”, “Matryoshka” part one, "Talion" (season seven finale), “High Value Target”/”Belly of the Beast” (season eight premieres), “The Queen’s Gambit”, “Under Siege”, “Unleashed” (season eight finale), “Party Crashers” (season nine’s premiere), “This Is What We Do” (episode 200), “Các Tù Nhân”, “Goodbye Vietnam”, “Ninguna Salida” (the season nine finale), “Hit List”, “Asesinos”, “Till Death Do Us Part”, “Choke Point”, “The Guardian”, “Hail Mary”, “Kill Beale Vol. 1”, “Alsiyadun”, “Fortune Favors the Brave”, “The Bear” (season 12 premiere), “Angry Karen”, “Love Kills”, “Russia, Russia, Russia”, “The Noble Maidens”, “A Tale of Two Igors” (season 12 finale), "Subject 17" (season 13 premiere), "All The Little Things", “MWD” and “Work and Family”.

Directed by: Kevin Berlandi. Berlandi is new to NCIS: Los Angeles. He has directed episodes of Criminal Minds, Bull and Partner Track.

Guest stars of note: Kavi Ramachandran Ladnier returns as NCIS Reserve Agent Shyla Dahr from “Work and Family”. Both Natalia Del Riego as Rosa Reyes and Richard Gant as Raymond Hanna are back from “Come Together”. Jennifer Marshall as Navy Commander Neal, Jamil Zraikat as Cyrus Karimian, Jenapher Zheng as Janice Ng, Anna Rajo as Maria Estevez, Turhan Troy Caylak as Darius “Bunny” Vale and Ramona Dubarry as Monica Tavares

Our heroes: Are back at it for season 14.

What important things did we learn about:

Callen: Asks to bring Hetty’s remains home from Syria if she was the one who perished. Sam: Bringing his father to an activity center so he can swim, play pool and poker. Kensi: Sniper. Deeks: Would have been killed without Sniper Wife. Fatima: Doling out assignments. Rountree: Starts an interview with an engineer and ends up defending what he does. Kilbride: Commandeering helicopters.

What not so important things did we learn about:

Callen: Self-titled world’s coolest uncle. Sam: Not thrilled his father broke away from the activity center. Kensi: First day school drop off. Deeks: Not built for first day school drop off or public restrooms. Fatima: Old show went into syndication so Fatima has cool new wheels. Rountree: Calculus is better than is algebra. Kilbride: Betting his non-existent grandchildren.

Where in the world is Henrietta Lange? Not in a schoolhouse/safe house in Syria although some of her alias IDs were.

Who's down with OTP: Kensi and Deeks get to be anxious parents dropping Rosa off for her first day at school. They have a long and serious conversation bracketed between some Deeks jokes about how brutal their jobs can be, how awful the world is and that letting Rosa into the world to be her best self is an act of faith that the world will be kind.

Who's down with BrOTP: Not a lot of BrOTP situations. Callen works with Fatima, Rountree is mostly solo and Sam is only around at the end.

Fashion review: Callen is wearing a red, white and blue plaid button-down. Long sleeve black tee-shirt for Sam. Kensi wears a blood-red tee-shirt. Deeks starts the episode in a pale purple tee-shirt before wearing an LAFD fire inspector/marshal’s uniform undercover. White turtleneck for Fatima with a buttery looking black leather jacket (spectacular!). Rountree is wearing a blue, white and grey jacket over a pale blue tee. Dark blue three-piece suit, white dress shirt and blue and white tie for the Admiral.

Music: Not today.

Any notable cut scene: See music.

Quote: Kensi: “You know, all this is making me feel like I want to call Rosa and check in on her.” Deeks: “Okay, pull up on that stick there, helicopter mom, because she's fine. You just need to give her some space and time to find herself and-and to grow. Put the phone down.” Kensi: “Yeah, I know, but how many parents dropped their kids off at school only to never see them again because of another school shooting” Deeks: “Okay, you can't, you can't think like that.” Kensi: “How can you not think like that?” Deeks: “I mean, all right, you can consider the possibility, you can do the drills, but at some point, you just have to give in and believe in a greater good. I just feel like that's getting harder and harder to do. Yeah, well, that's why they call it faith.”

Anything else: A security guard is making his way through an engineering firm. The firm builds drones. The guard’s route is very deliberate, logging in and out of areas as he makes his way through building. As he gets near the exit, he sees a janitor’s cart just off the entrance.

Exiting the building, the guard locks up and logs out. There is a massive explosion. The guard is thrown ten feet from the door and fiery debris lands all around him.

Cue the new credits – a little red in the logo.

A really overprotective Kensi and Deeks are dropping Rosa off at school. Deeks is worried about bullying which makes Rosa nervous about bullying. Kensi and Deeks will pick her up after school but will text if there is a delay. There is a back-up plan with “Naomi’s mom”. After reviewing the alarm code for the house and the panic code, Rosa is finally on her way. Kensi and Deeks rethink their plan with home schooling a possibility. Deeks announces “I’m not built for this.”

As Sam is ready to take his father to an adult activity center, Raymond is walking around in his pajamas and slippers. Raymond is has no interest in “adult day-care”. Sam sells the place which has a gym, pool and library. Raymond is fine with Sam leaving him at a gym, a pool or a library. Sam notes this place has all three. The two bicker before Sam asks Raymond to just try the place. Since they have billiards and poker, Raymond is a little more interested but disappointed that the poker games aren’t for money. “The only fun is when you’re winning real money.” Mrs. Williams, Raymond’s caretaker, will be picking him up at the end of the day. Raymond complains about her driving. He’s also not keen on the idea of making new friends at the activity center since as soon as you get to know someone, they die. The only new things there are hips and pacemakers. Sam is patient with his father as he makes old age jokes.

Arriving through the side door, Fatima sees Callen looking at party venues. She offers some help – she’s good at planning things. Callen was looking for wedding venues. Fatima asks what does Anna want. Anna is torn between a trip to City Hall and Arkady’s dream of recreating “Doctor Zhivago”, complete with horses and snow. Fatima asks if Callen has a theme – traditional, fantasy, cosplay. Callen asks about “fantasy” and Fatima goes on including Sam as a troll, Deeks as a pixie, Kilbride as a wizard. Shaking his head, Callen tells Fatima he’s going to run these roles by them to see what they think. Fatima says no. “It doesn’t hurt to ask,” Callen replies. Fatima knows he’s kidding and asks that he not. Shyla interrupts, Kilbride needs to see Callen.

Walking to Kilbride’s office, Callen asks Shyla what’s up. She isn’t sure but there has been a communique from Syria. In his office, Kilbride tells Shyla to hold his calls and patch the Commander through to the plasma in his office. Commander Neal pops up on the screen. With the help of the Syrian Democratic Forces, Neal and her team were doing some recon work. At an abandoned school, known to be a safehouse, there was an ambush. Human remains were found, burned beyond recognition. One body had documents identifying them as Trudy Chambers, an American female. Callen looks stunned. Asking if the remains of Chambers were that of a small woman, Neal confirms they were. Dental records and DNA is still be checked. She will contact them when they have an ID. Trudy Chambers is one of Hetty’s aliases.

In Ops, Fatima arrives and asks Shyla what’s the new case. There is television coverage of the explosion and fire at Havlock/Haines Aerospace the prior night. Havlock/Haines builds remote piloted vehicles for the Navy. A janitor was killed, the security guard was badly injured. ATF said the bomb was nitroamine high explosive. The dead janitor was Luis Estevez, the guard Morgan Reynolds. Neither fits the profile of a bomber – more wrong place, wrong time. Fatima will go to the crime scene with Callen, Kensi and Deeks will look into the janitor while Rountree looks into the security guard. Shyla seems a little surprised that Fatima is doling out assignments – that is usually the job of a more senior agent. Since Shyla does not see a more senior agent in Ops, “go get ‘em girl,” is her advice.

Asking if the remains will be flown back to the US, Kilbride tells Callen they will be if they are positively identified. Callen wants to accompany them. Kilbride agrees. Callen then brings up Harris Keane, who was travelling with Hetty. Once the forensic team completes their work, the Admiral thinks they’ll know more. Knowing if she was ambushed at a safe house – even if it wasn’t Hetty – Callen believes she’s in danger. Kilbride disagrees – Hetty was in danger the minute she went back to Syria. And there are no safe houses in Syria right now. But since this is Hetty, she has more lives than a barn cat and is just as mean. Callen nods his head in agreement.

In the boatshed’s main room, Kensi and Deeks are speaking to Maria Estevez, daughter of janitor Luis Estevez. After offering condolences, they asks Maria about her father. He liked working as the night janitor – the money was good and it left him time during the day for other projects. As a skilled carpenter and mason, Estevez worked construction jobs when they came up. Kensi asks when did he sleep. Maria has an immediate answer – Sundays. During family dinners in the fall, he’d doze off watching football. Deeks asks why did Estevez work two jobs. Maria explains that years ago, her immigrant father worked two jobs to make ends meet. In recent years, especially after the death of his wife/Maria’s mother from COVID two years ago, it was to keep busy. Estevez did not work with explosives but loved fireworks. The Estevez family loved to put on a display. Asking if there were any financial issues, drugs, enemies, Maria states her father was a gentle and caring man who did anything to help others. Since Maria was told Estevez died in a factory accident, she wants to know what’s going on. Kensi and Deeks would like to see Estevez’s home.

A sullen Callen is a bit surprised by Fatima’s new Porsche. She explains her old TV show was just sold into syndication. When Callen notes the vehicle isn’t subtle, Fatima replies that in LA, subtle stands out. Callen is still distracted so Fatima asks if he is OK. He updates her about the body found in Syria. Fatima offers condolences and asks if they can do anything. They can’t so they should work the case.

Calling in to Ops from outside the hospital, Rountree has no luck with the security guard. He’s lawyered up but even if he didn’t, his doctor said he was in no condition to be questioned. Shyla notes he was healthy enough to find a lawyer. The Admiral wants the hospital staff and the lawyer to be put on notice, “as soon as he can eat his Jell-O, he better start talking.” Shyla is going to get a warrant to search Reynolds’s residence while the Admiral wants to question the staff at Havlock/Haines about Reynolds.

At the crime scene, Callen and Fatima are in the bombed out facility. The sleek, modern place is now a mass of burnt walls, cables and wires hanging from the ceiling, rubble all over. Speaking to executive Monica Tavares, she explains that the explosion is a financial hit to the company. Not only do they have to rebuild but they are not going to meet certain orders from contracts. Callen asks if she knows who would do something like this. Tavares has a list – anarchists, right-wing extremists, anti-war activists. Fatima asks about industry rivals or disgruntled employees. There are some – a few staffers left after they started working for the government – conscientious objections to making “weapons of war”. When Fatima asks for contact info, Taveras agrees to cooperate but makes it clear, none of them would blow up the building.

Callen asks if there were any other issues in recent weeks and months. Nothing as obvious as blowing up the facility but Havlock/Haines has been subject to a “relentless” series of cyber-attacks. The company is working on where they are coming from but no luck finding who is behind them. Callen gets a call from Shyla who has the terribly burned corpse of Luis Estevez on the big screen (ick, show, ick). Estevez was already dead for several hours when the explosion occurred.

Later speaking to Fatima, if Estevez was dead before the explosion, they likely used him to get into the building. Fatima agrees – the bombers killed Estevez, used his ID to get into the building, probably put his body and the bomb into something like a cleaning cart. That would be Fatima’s plan. Callen finds it scary but thinks it would be a good way to dispose of the body. Fatima agrees – it would make it look like Estevez died in the explosion.

Walking around the immaculate home of Luis Estevez, Kensi is on the phone with Callen. Thinking unless he was Jekyll and Hyde, Kensi believes Estevez was Mr. Rogers only more neat. Callen wants Kensi to check if Maria has power of attorney so they can access his phone and financials. Fatima asks about home security but Estevez barely locked is doors. Fatima wants to check the neighbors’ security systems to see if anyone was following Estevez. Kensi will ask. They also want Kensi to ask about Estevez’s daily routine. Meanwhile, Estevez’s Jeep is going to NCIS’s carport – they will check to see if he had GPS.

Moving to the kitchen, Maria is packing up the food in her father’s home. She talks about her father’s truck. Deeks assures her the truck will be released to the family when NCIS is done with it. Maria seems less worried about that, more thinking about how much her father loved the truck. It was his first ever new vehicle. Kensi asks about power-of-attorney. Maria got it after her mother passed away, her father got all his paperwork in order. Kensi tells Maria that they can take info from her father’s phone and financial records and maybe find who killed him. Maria is weeping. Deeks looks so uncomfortable. Kensi, seeing Maria’s distress, asks if she would be able to come up with her father’s daily routine, “Can you do that?” Maria says she can try.

Outside of the house, Kensi and Deeks are wrecked about the pain of the day. Deeks makes a joke about the pain being as bad as kidney stones, annoying Kensi. He extends to the joke to childbirth, leading Kensi to calling him an idiot. When Deeks says he’s joking, Kensi wants to know why. “Because if I don’t joke, this job is too sad for me to keep doing it.” Kensi understands but thinks he’s an idiot – a loveable one. All the sadness has Kensi wanting to call Rosa and see if she’s OK. Deeks stops her – this is Rosa’s time to “find herself and to grow.” Kensi brings up school shootings, something Deeks does not want to think about. It is what Kensi thinks about. Deeks tells her they can do the drills and prepare Rosa the best they can but at some point “you just have to give in and believe in a greater good.” Kensi finds that hard to do but Deeks tells her that’s what faith is. “I mean George Michael even wrote a song about it.” Deeks makes some George jokes.

Arriving at Ops, the Admiral wants a sit-rep. Shyla fills him in on the team’s status. She is also working with NCIS CYBER to find who is behind the cyber-attacks against Havlock/Haines. The Admiral figures that whoever did this was willing to kill an innocent man and used high end explosives – they are not militia “idiots”. Shyla suggests industrial espionage – a rival company that wants some of the hundreds of millions of dollars available in military contracts. The Admiral is rooting for that because the alternative is state sponsored terrorism.

As Kilbride walks back to his office, Callen calls up from the bullpen, looking for news about the remains and Trudy Chambers. Kilbride assures Callen he would have updated him if there was any news from Syria. The Admiral’s more pressing concern is whoever blew up Havlock/Haines since they like aren’t done. He wants Callen focused on the task at hand and not Hetty. “Now go catch these bastards before they strike again.”

In the carport, Fatima is working on Estevez’s truck. She tells Callen that the vehicle was wiped clean – she can still smell the bleach. Callen gets a call from Alex asking if she wants to hang out with Jake. Fatima wishes she had a niece or nephew – it seems like fun. Callen agrees it is while they are young. When they get a little older, less time for the world’s coolest uncle and more time for teenage girls. Fatima asks if Callen gave himself the designation of world’s coolest uncle. Callen wants to know who is cooler than he is? After Fatima laughs, she announces he’s cool, “like supercool.” “Let’s not oversell it.”

In the boatshed, Rountree and Shyla on the plasma are chatting. He is meeting with Janice Ng who left Havlock/Haines when they started working for the DoD. Shyla gets an alert from CYBER – the source of the attack is coming from Beirut, Lebanon.

With Fatima and Callen back in Ops with Shyla, they are discussing Lebanon being an US ally but Hezbollah, a militant group with a political arm, is not. Callen brings up two Hezbollah operatives who were arrested in the US for planning acts of terrorism. Those arrests were for fundraising and weapon buys but things may have gotten more aggressive since the US’s relationship with Iran gets worse. Iran funds a lot of Hezbollah’s actions. Asking about Estevez’s truck, Callen tells Shyla that the truck was wiped clean as was his GPS. Callen wants a list from the Office of the Director of National Intelligence of any known Hezbollah members in the US, especially anyone on the West Coast.

In the boat shed, Janice Ng explains she joined Havlock/Haines to be part of the team that put the first person on Mars. She did not sign up to build weapons of mass destruction. Rountree tells her the drones aren’t weapons of mass destruction. Ng disagrees – they could be armed with a nuclear weapon. Rountree points out they aren’t but Ng thinks he’s being naïve. But she thinks it is Rountree’s job to cover up the military’s crimes against humanity. Explaining that it isn’t his job to cover up anything, Rountree is there to find the truth about who set the bomb at Havlock/Haines. Ng is annoyed – since she quit for not wanting to be “a warmonger”, she’s being treated as a suspect. She’s waiting for Rountree to beat a confession out of her.

Deeks arrives at the boat shed with Kensi right behind him. Rountree explains that he isn’t there to beat a confession out of Ng. Pointing to his wife, Deeks tells Ng that what Kensi is there to do as he walks into the restroom. Kensi tells Ng Deeks is just kidding. Rountree updates Kensi on his questioning and Ng lawyers up. Rountree tells her she doesn’t need a lawyer. After she warns them against railroading her, Rountree just cuts Ng loose.

Sighing that it is just “one of those days”, Rountree tells Kensi he’s gotten nothing from the former Havlock/Haines staffers. Kensi explains that they got some security footage and were going to Ops when “somebody needed a potty break.” Deeks returns from the restroom where they’re out of towels so he airdries his hands all over Kensi and Rountree. He explains that he would rather use their restroom than some public restroom. Rountree is more concerned that some of Deeks’s air-drying got into his mouth.

Contacting Ops, Kensi pulls out the thumb drive with the security camera footage and sends it to Shyla. Shyla has camera footage from other places as she tries to stitch together Estevez’s day. Kensi and Deeks are on their way to Ops to help Shyla. Deeks signals to Rountree that he probably shouldn’t use the restroom.

In the bullpen, Callen is reviewing some street camera footage with Fatima. With the coroner estimating Estevez’s time of death around 4PM, Callen sees white van for Bunny Vale Laundry and Dry Cleaning outside of his house at 11AM. The branded van is still there two-hours later. While it could be a long lunch or a day off, it is just as likely a stakeout. In Ops, Shyla has info on Bunny Vale Laundry, a chain in LA. Tracing the specific van, for the last few days, it was always near Estevez, either at his home or following him around.

Bunny Vale Laundry is owned by Darius “Bunny” Vale and his wife Sara. They are first-generation Persian-Americans, born in America. No links to Hezbollah but Fatima wonders if Vale is using his business as a front. There is a laundering money suggestion from Shyla – she really does fit right in. Callen and Fatima are going to speak to Vale.

In interrogation, Darius “Bunny” Vale is on the wrong side of the table. Callen shows him a photo of the laundry truck outside of Estevez’s home. Vale claims to have over a dozen vans like it. Callen tells Vale the van was used in a crime. Vale was worried something like that would happen – the van was stolen. Callen mentions there was no police report but Vale says the truck was gone for a while and then returned. He never knew it was missing until one of his employees found it. Since there was no damage to the van, he didn’t report it, figuring it was some teenage joyriders. The van was found near one of Vale’s locations by an employee who was with Vale for years. “Anything else?”

Pulling out his phone, Callen shows Vale Estevez’s dead body. Vale expresses his disgust in Farsi. Callen explains that Estevez was a father and a grandfather who was likely murdered in Vale’s van. When the forensic team goes through the “stolen” van, if they find any evidence Vale will be connected to Estevez’s murder and the attack on Havlock/Haines. Fatima asks how long as Vale supported Hezbollah. Vale is stunned – he’s never supported Hezbollah. Callen threatens a trip to Guantanamo Bay but Vale claims he had nothing to do with what happened.

When Callen says “last chance” to Vale, he explains he can’t help, “they’ll hurt my family.” Fatima offers protection but Vale is speaking about his family in Tehran. While NCIS has agents all over the world, they are not in Iran. Fatima tells him the threat is to his family in the US as well as Iran. If he helps them, they can stop threat.

Vale explains that two men demanded a van, was told if he didn’t cooperate his family in Iran would pay the price. He was told to not ask any questions and to not tell anyone. Vale gave them the van and then the van was returned. Vale doesn’t have much information – he didn’t know the men, he didn’t know where they were staying. In Farsi, Fatima tells Vale he needs to help them. He is in danger if he doesn’t cooperate. Vale mentions a friend named Ava who was threatened as well. She had to provide a place where the men could work. Callen wants Sam called in – this is a full team operation.

Joining Callen, Fatima and Rountree at an office park, Sam and the team are all wearing their kevlar with the big guns out. He thinks this assignment is easier than getting his father to behave. When Fatima asks how Raymond is doing, Sam replies he’s doing everything possible to make him crazy. The Admiral has had enough chit-chat – and Deeks isn’t even involved. Fatima and Rountree take one entrance, Sam and Callen take another. Shyla tells the team the building is owned by Ava Safari with only a 26% occupancy rate due to COVID. The terrorists are set-up on a vacant office floor. The Admiral considers them armed and they are dangerous since they have access to high end explosives. He warns them of booby traps. That doesn’t sit well with Deeks, who is dress as a fire marshal/inspector. “I’m not the bomb disposal guy.”

Deeks walks through one of the offices. It is empty though there is a cot and a lantern flashlight in an open area. He is approached by a man asking why Deeks is there. After saying he’s happy the place is rented again, Deeks claims to be LAFD there for the building’s monthly inspection. The man wants Deeks to leave and return the following day. Deeks explains he can’t do that. Deeks is walking ahead of the man, through the office. He is rambling about the inspecting the Nakatomi Plaza – nice “Die Hard” shoutout – and puts on soundproof headphones because he’s about to set off the building’s alarms. The man behind Deeks pulls out his gun. Kensi says “weapon” and takes out the man from an office building a healthy distance away. “Tango down.” Deeks seems surprised.

Callen and Sam join Deeks – “Nice shot honey,” Deeks calls to Kensi. He starts talking about having a BB right under his scalp from being shot by Darrel Dinkins. Sam mentioned the BB migrating to Deeks’s brain. An arriving Fatima and Rountree enjoy the show. Deeks tells Sam he missed him. “I bet you did.”

While Fatima sends the dead man’s prints to Ops, Callen has the dead man’s burner phone and wants to Shyla to check the contacts and any GPS info. Sam finds a Canadian passport for the dead man issued to Cyrus Karimain from Fort Erie, Ontario. It is likely a fake. Sam has four other passports for four other men. There may be an entire cell in Los Angeles.

Deeks find a trash pail full of shredded documents. One looks like a map but he could only figure it out if he was the Amazing Kreskin. Fatima doesn’t know who the Amazing Kreskin is. “That was before Google,” Sam tells her. Callen finds something and shows it to Sam. It is a symbol of the Islamic Revolutionary Guard Corps’s staff college. The men in the office aren’t Hezbollah, they are Iranian special operatives who usually train proxies to fight, not do the fighting themselves. The Admiral knew this was state sponsored and is willing to bet his grandchildren that the drones that took out Soleimani was manufactured by Havlock/Haines. Shyla notes the Admiral doesn’t have grandchildren. “This team America, is payback.”

Tracing the location of the cellphone numbers in the dead man’s phone, they are all traveling on the PCH, just passing Malibu. While Deeks thinks they are surfers, Sam realizes they’re going to Point Magu. Point Magu is the home of the Triton drone project. The Admiral wants the team in helicopters on their way to the base in two minutes. When Shyla asks how, the Admiral doesn’t care – Coast Guard, National Guard, borrow a TV traffic helicopter.

At Point Magu’s entrance, a Bunny Vale Landry Van shoots its way past a guard station. The sole guard tries to fire on the men but is overwhelmed by four men with military weapons. Driving the van into the base, there are two barrel in the back with explosives. The men all exit the van before it plows into a trailer with a satellite on top. Since this is NCIS: Los Angeles, there is a massive explosion.

One of the men tries to enter a structure next to the structure that just was blown up. He has a keycard to get in but the door does not open. Callen comes out from the side of the structure and tells the man “nobody’s home.” The men are surrounded by Callen and Sam on the right, Kensi, Fatima and Rountree on their left and Deeks from the top of the structure. Behind the on the ground team is more armed Navy sailors. It was set-up as a kill box. Fatima starts ordering the men to surrender in Farsi. The men surrender. Deeks wonders how he is getting off the building – he asks Rountree to catch him.

Stepping away, Sam has a call from Mrs. Williams, his father’s caretaker. Raymond left the activity center without the caretaker. He instead left with a woman named Victoria. Callen is impressed – one day at the activity center and Raymond has a girlfriend. Callen thinks Sam could learn a little something from his father.

In the armory, Kensi, Deeks, Fatima and Rountree are dropping off their gear. Fatima thinks they should go out for drinks and Rountree should pay. This surprises Rountree until Fatima says she’s buying. Deeks offers to take everyone out to dinner if Rosa could join them. Kensi steps in – not on a school night. Deeks asks how is Rountree’s calculus. It is better than his algebra but it is not very good.

Pouring two glasses of scotch, the Admiral offers an arriving Callen a glass. Callen asks if he is going to need it. The Admiral thinks the longer Callen stays in their business, he will but he won’t need it today for Hetty “Not now anyway,” he tells Callen. The remains were of a female child, not Hetty. Callen asks why were Hetty’s IDs found on a dead child. The Admiral thinks Hetty planted them. Without the forensics the US military has, anyone who saw the remains and the ID thinks Hetty is dead. Thinking Hetty is in trouble – and the Admiral saying she was in the trouble the minute she went to Syria, Callen asks for permission to look for her. That’s a no from the Admiral. If they had actionable intel, they would go. Until then, Hetty is on her own.

Saying he has a lot of personal time, Callen is thinking of going anyway. The Admiral makes it clear LA just had foreign terrorists attack a building and a Naval Station so there will be no going halfway around the world “searching for your surrogate mommy.” Telling the Admiral to enjoy his scotch, Callen storms out. The Admiral drinks his own scotch and then Callen’s untouched glass, saying he intends to.

Not enjoying his scotch is Sam, sitting with a glass at his dining room table. Raymond sneaks in almost like a teenager caught by his parents. Sam asks where his father was. Raymond said he took Sam’s advice and made some friends. Sam thinks Raymond should have called. Raymond is sure he sent a text but he didn’t. This is every parent-child discussion about being out late with friends, just with the roles reversed. When Raymond says he’s not a child, Sam tells him he's acting like one. Yep, parent-child in reverse. Sam is angry that Raymond “hooked up with a woman on your first damn day. An angry Raymond talks about Victoria, who is married to Cliff, a bedridden veteran. After his time at the activity center, Raymond went to see Cliff, providing him such much needed company. Sam is instantly remorseful until Raymond makes it clear that he also provided Victoria some much needed company. Sam isn’t sure his father is joking as Raymond says good night.

They changed the fonts on the credits too.

What head canon can be formed from here: Sort of an update to the season 13 finale – Callen is looking at wedding venues, Sam is dealing with his father, Kensi and Deeks are taking Rosa to her first day of school. Family continues to play a big part.

Shyla is great with the team. She has a different relationship with Kilbride – more casual and fun than any of the team members.

Visiting the bombed out drone place had to be pretty brutal to Callen, who less than an hour earlier learned his “surrogate mommy” may have met her end in a similar action.

The Kensi and Deeks conversation about doing their jobs in the world we live in has been going on now since season eight. This was another variation of it with Kensi sounding a little more done this time.

The program used real events – the arrest of two Hezbollah terrorists, the bombing of Soleimani- to make the story go.

Episode number: Season 14 (a healthy run for any program), episode one. Episode 303 overall. These recaps will go up every Friday (save one in mid-March) until season 14 wraps.

[dragongirlclawtoes]

ARMORED CORE: VERTICAL INVERSION/BUILD DIVERS: BEYOND THE ASHES CH001-SEG01 - BROKEN WINGS CAN'T FLY

DANGER! ANOMALY DETECTED! "Tell me something fucking NEW!" C4-621 snarled. Her AC entered assault boost, tearing through the coral haze towards her target. Left strafe. Right strafe. Right strafe. Sharp left turn. Fire the plasma rifle. Reverse boost.

Clnk! WHSSH! A massive blast of energy tore through the space 621 had almost charged through. A comm channel opened abruptly. V.IV Rusty…? "Hey, buddy. Can't let you have all the fun up there. Adjusting target, loading next shell…" This timeloop bullshit was getting on 621's nerves.

Her AC stepped forward. And again. And again. AC Detected… name: NINEBALL SERAPH That wasn't an AC she'd encountered on or near Rubicon before…

THNK THNK!! She instinctually fired the SONGBIRDS in tandem. But it was already gone.

"What do you fight for, Raven?" CLANG! It kicked her AC in the back. "Money? Power? Glory?"

Clnk! WHSSH! "For Rubicon." Rusty Answered.

"Interference… I'll be back for you, Raven." Nineball stated, diving out one of the holes left by Rusty's marksmanship.

"GET BACK HERE, MOTHERF-!" 621 yelled. The floor, or maybe ceiling of the the orbital station erupted under her AC, sending her flying out into open space.

"Have a nice flight, freelancer…" Iguazu's voice echoed over the comms…

She drifted through space for months, or maybe hours…

Warning! Atmospheric entry intiated! "…Damnit." She began the eject sequence. Which was, for emergency purposes, far too many inputs to prime quickly.

Thmp! The sequence was a few switches and a button short of being done, and the impact had shoved her back into the seat. At least it was cushioned enough to not hurt.

She got back up, and flipped the switches. Then she stared for a minute at the button. "I'm asking for a less fucking complicated eject sequence next time." She resolved before slapping the button. Immediately getting thrust back into the seat. Then hitting her head on the highly rubberized, and thank the fucking stars it is, edge of the control panel.

clunk. clunk. clunk. clunk. whsssh. The core pod opened. 621 sat up inside, then rubbed her head. "Ugh… Hate landings like that more than I hate just losing the whole AC…"

She glanced outside the pod. Then processed the mechanical humanoid stood outside, and looked again. "Who the fuck are you?"

-/-

\`event active: dimension break\` The notification was sudden. Theta stared at it for a minute, before menuing to summon her gunpla, the EZ-FA.

The Texas desert zone remained relatively silent for a few minutes. Then the radar picked up an inbound signal. Friend or foe? Unclear.

Theta activated EZ-FA's sniper visor. whrrr, clunk! Heat signature. 100 miles northeast-east, 500 up? 450. 400... trajectory projection... too close! whrrr, clunk! Don't need long range optics engaged for this!

She stepped on the thrust pedal. Anywhere would be better than in the open near an expected crash site of something falling from space. She lamented not having logged in with a high mobility loadout, but that was still in development (half-built and sitting on her gunpla table IRL).

Impact. Shrapnel and sand. EZ-FA's durability decreased sharply.

EZ-FA turned to face the impact crater, decelerating from 'frantic escape' to 'cautious approach'.

EZ-FA's cockpit opened, and Theta climbed out to make the descent into the crater, the molten sand burning at her legs and hand as she slid down. Thankfully, other than the simulated sensations, she was in no real danger.

The unknown machine was roughly half the size of most gunpla, which was still huge, maybe 10 foot, next to a human-sized body. Theta didn't want to think how big it would look from a haro-sized point of view. The chest opened, and launched a pod. It landed in the sand, then slid back down the edge of the crater, coming to a rest at the machine's feet.

Theta approached. clunk. clunk. clunk. clunk. whsssh. It opened.

A heavily bandaged girl with white and red hair sat up inside the pod, then rubbed her head. "Ugh... Hate landings like that more than I hate just losing the whole AC..." she complained.

She glanced at Theta with her red and pink eyes. Then did a double take. "Who the fuck are you?"

[thebadchoicemachine]

What are all of the merc’s fursonas?

Heavy’s is obviously a bear. Medic is probably a bird of some kind. Maybe a dove? (Although that’s probably just cause I associate him with white.) scout’s a weasel of some kind. Spy is.. a peacock feels not quite right but at the same time I’m drawing a blank otherwise…

what if Heavy's persona was a moose... peaceful but powerful and protective... wait there's two versions of the mercs I can do both

--- Heavy: Polar Bear, Moose (brawns, protective, cold weather, territorial, smarter than people give them credit, determined)

Demo: Otter, Raven (friendly, rambunctious, skilled, fun-loving, smart, family motivated)

Engineer: Bull, Coyote (Intelligent, expressive, US southwest, dangerous, social, often underestimated by stupid people)

--

Spy: Jaguar, Puff Adder (fancy, arrogant, sneaky, camouflage, attacks you don't see coming, considered very pretty by most people)

Sniper: Peregrine Falcon, Goannas (good hunters, introverted, precise, generally solitary, capable of defense but prey) Medic: Orca, Cat (Playful, vicious, curious, happy, violent, and have a habit of playing with corpses like toys)

--

Scout: Squirrel, Seagull (small, fast, can be extremely annoying, fidgety, hyper, relatively basic compared to the others)

Pyro: Dragon, Kitsune (Fire, wide ranges, VERY dangerous but can be gregarious, mythical to catch that inhuman vibe Pyro's got going on, can be adorable or terrifying)

Soldier: Dog [there are so many breeds that fit this so I'm not going to name one specifically], Bald Eagle (loyal, energetic, loud, powerful, not easy to control unless you have experience, combative, defensive)

[cetacian]

The Fall and Rise of Orca: Orca Joins a Furry Gang

Warning: This post contains spoilers for "Dawn of DC" Batman and Robin Vol 3 Issues 1-3.

After moving out of Wayne Manor, Bruce Wayne and his son Damian experienced growing pains with Bruce wanting to enroll Damien in high school in order to further his socialization, while Damian wanted to focus on crime fighting. After foiling an attempted kidnapping by White Rabbit, further evidence suggested a conspiracy to target one Dr. Kafira for his DNA sequencing work. While heading out to check on Dr. Kafira, Batman and Robin arrived at the site of another kidnapping attempt with the kidnappers having some familiar faces among them:

While I'm happy to see Orca and Croc together again, this is definitely a huge step back from them trying to get their lives together. The loss of Monstertown and Tusk's hotel took a huge toll on everybody it seems.

Though at least they seem to have made some new friends:

Wasn't Man-Bat undead at last check? Did he get brought back to life or is this a different man-bat? I hate not being able to keep track of characters' status because there's no continuity between stories, even though they're taking place in the same city on the same Earth in the same universe.

Okay, rant over. On the plus side, minor villains The Terrible Trio are part of this gang and they've got a surprise for Batman and Robin: they've become true hybrids of their animal identities beneath the masks! In the ensuing fight, Man-Bat attempts to fly off with Dr. Kafira as a mysterious sniper takes aim at Batman:

Man-Bat was able to escape with Dr. Kafira in tow along with the rest of the gang as Batman and Robin had to deal with a new problem: the pellet shot by the sniper contained some form of gas that attracted bats to Batman in order to attack him.

The first issue sets up a lot of intrigue with questions of who the animal hybrid gang are working for and why, though I feel like the father-son drama between Bruce and Damian has been done before and causes the story to drag a bit. Maybe it'll get better over time.

On the bright side, Orca got to be on the extended cover art for the first issue:

Issue 2 resolves the bat attack with Batman using a smoke bomb filled with herbs and other scents to repel the bats before he and Robin headed home to regroup. Meanwhile, the mysterious sniper was reveal to be a woman calling herself Shush and that she was working with the animal hybrid gang. She soon had to deal with dissent in the ranks from Croc and the ravenous appetites of The Terrible Trio, asking Orca to guard Dr. Kafira in order to avoid him being devoured by them:

Shush then went off to speak to the mysterious boss the gang was working for and the boss addressed Croc's concerns and pointed out that she would need to deal with the loose end of White Rabbit, concerned that the former member might inform Batman and Robin about the gang's plans. As Bruce and Damian discussed what they had learned, the concern over Bruce finding a cure for the pheromone altering chemical he had inhaled from the pellet was raised, forcing him to work from home to find more information. The next day, Damian had a rough first day at school, soon choosing to play hooky and don the Robin costume in order sneak into Blackgate to interrogate White Rabbit. An plan of action echoed by his father, who showed up shortly before Shush lead an attack on the prison with The Terrible Trio in tow, intent on silencing White Rabbit for good.

More intrigue and curiosity grows as to why a non-hybrid like Shush is involved in this plot. I'm not enamored with genderbent Hush here as Hush was never that amazing a character to begin with in my opinion, but I'm willing to reserve full judgement until we get to the end of this storyline.

No Orca appearance in Issue 3 as Batman cornered Shush, assuming she was working with Hush, but the tension was soon broken with the revelation that she had set a bomb up somewhere in Blackgate as Damian went after The Terrible Trio in order to save White Rabbit from being assassinated. However, Shush soon caught up with White Rabbit, taking her hostage. After Batman disarmed the bomb, he and Robin pursued Shush and the Trio in a car chase. Batman was soon able to rescue White Rabbit as a crash forced Shush to make a hasty escape and White Rabbit claimed not to know what the gang's master plan was. Damian pursued The Terrible Trio to the gang's base of operations in the Gotham Zoo, soon finding a woozy Dr. Kafira, who claimed to have been injected with some kind of chemical. However, before he could aid the doctor, he was accosted by a very different looking Man-Bat.

This issue flowed a lot better as far as the mix of family drama and action, so that was a plus. I'm curious to see if White Rabbit is lying or telling the truth/partial truth. The man-bat at the end doesn't look like the one that took Dr. Kafira, but time will tell if that was an art error or deliberately misleading the reader. Either way, the goatee and sideburns on the cliffhanger man-bat are a dead giveaway that it's grandpa: Ra's al Ghul, here for yet another scheme to fuck up humanity in order to save it. Him going for hybridizing humans and animals happened in another continuity (the animated film Batman vs. Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles), but I'm still curious how the method and goal might differ in this storyline.

More to come as issues come out, hopefully with more Orca next time.

[snowkissd]

who: @thedeerdevil where: the festival during the attack

Sienna was braiding flower crowns for a few young girls when the downpour of arrows started. Her focus turned from creation to protection as she ushered them to safety. There were screams and smoke before she'd even been able to fully process what was going on. Her doe eyes ran across her surroundings in an attempt to find anyone else who might need help, giving quick instructions to a bird to go see where the snipers were hiding out. Maybe it was risky for her to get involved seeing as though anyone magic had a target on their back already but she refused to sit idly by. With the bottom of her white dress now tucked into her waistband she was able to sprint easily from the scene. Sienna followed the bird until she was in an alley heading for a fire escape when a gunman stopped her in her tracks. A face she'd known intimately now looked at her down the barrel of a rifle. "If you're going to shoot me at least make it quick," the raven-haired girl breathed out in an attempt to hide the shakiness of her voice. "Please."