#after he finished it in the demolitions range

[existentialgaybirdnerd]

The 141 resting in a rec room doing random shit like Ghost is reading a book and Price is doing paperwork.

Soap: *muttering under his breath fiddling with something on the coffee table from his position on the floor*

Gaz: *playing on a Nintendo for the funsies and cause he's bored*

Soap: *disgruntled muttering, a loud thud happens and he sets down a screwdriver*

Gaz: *not looking up from his game* "what're you doing?"

Soap: *picking the screwdriver back up and not even looking away from what he's working on* "making a bomb"

*The other three look up suddenly in fear*

Soap: *calm as can be* "there's no explosives in it yet, stop looking at me like I'm holding a sword to a puppy"

Price: "the fuck do you mean YET?"

[swadloom]

I was curious what the crew's files said so I took pictures. Taken from my tablet so they're not the best. Some of this is stuff that's already revealed or contextualized in this magazine (shoutout to @atlantis-archive for his super cool work) but there's interesting stuff in there nonetheless, like Vinny's explosion incident happening when he was fairly young and what's shown of Mole's past being more tame than Sweet made it out to be (though maybe the sewer exploration just grosses him out, I can see that being something Sweet would be disgusted by as a cleanly doctor and Audrey wouldn't care as much about.)

Unfortunately Vinny and Packard have a lot of their information blocked out and there's barely anything for Rourke at all, I wonder if it's intentional since it makes Rourke more ominous, Packard has a more minor comedic role, and being forced to wonder how many times Vinny got sent to jail is pretty funny.

Transcription under cut. Brackets means I'm interpereting a word that's cut off, question marks means that I'm not sure if I got it right or what it means, and parethesis are for adding context or my own personal commentary or analysis of their backstories. If anyone has any context for some things mentioned that they think they could explain (like place names or historical context), that would be appreciated!

GARTAN MOLIERE Mineralogist and [Excavator] 39 [Birthplace]: Paris, France [Parents:] Christef and Gabrielle Moliere [Expertise:] Extensive knowledge of… the new science of tectonics. Advise… National du France (?), Ottoman Mining, Aus… New South Wales Coal, Slate and Granite… American Coal and Lumber. Has developed… independent mining and excavation vehicle… related equipment. Holds patents on… Acute senses, particularly taste and… enable… to correctly identify any type of… soil… benefit or aid of any scientific… 98.7… time.

Background: [Gartan]… working family, the [young?]… parents were teachers… courses at the Sorbonne… music teacher. Gartan [discovered?]… subterranean pursuits at the… exploring the vast sever [networks]… Paris. By the age of 13, [Moliere]… specialized type of goggles… exploring caves in the surrounding… and catacombs held no [fun?]… He entered Sorbonne at… opportunity to… mining company…

(it sounds like one of his parents was a music teacher at the same college he went to, which is fun to think about.)

VINCENZO [SANTORINI] Explosives and [Demolition] [Palermo], Italy …and Fabiela Santorini (father’s name unknown) …elance (no idea what the word after this that starts with M is, maybe a place in Italy?) …ining 190(?)…[1903] 1903- (dash indicates a range of dates)… Demolitions; Delphi… (?) 1909, Bachelor’s… Delphi Prison… 1910, Technical Overseer… Hardrock Blasting… 1913.

…“Vinny” Santorini is the eldest… ela Santorini (only have “ela” to work from, so this could also be the name of one of his siblings). The parents own… [specializes] in floral arrangement… to an unfortunate, and to… the Santorini family was… [business?]. Young Vincenzo seemed… fascination for fire, and… small boy… blazes. …became… began… 18. By…

(He would have been around 27 in 1903, I’m guessing it might be a range of time that he was in jail. Also he’s apparently been arrested in Greece, so he might have been on the run too. I wonder from the companies mentioned if Vinny worked as a professional demolitionist but would overdo it just for the excitement and cause serious damage) (He’s mentioned as teaching himself about explosives all on his own in the scan, and also the incident that drew him away from the flower business was when he was too young to have finished college unless he’s a huge savant like Milo, so I’m guessing the mentions of degrees are ones that his parents have in botany-related subjects. I like the implication that he comes from a well-educated family and is probably very smart himself but ended up not liking the business he had to be a part of as a kid and instead putting that energy into blowing stuff up)

[AUDREY] ROCIO RAMIREZ [Chief] Mechanic [Michigan] (Parents names are blocked out, though Manuel can be seen later) …in her… assistant… for [mechanical/mechanics]… at age of… age of… orvisery(?) [position] at age 11. …with fledgling… Credited with developing… method 1909. Developed… oling(?) system 1910. …drive gears 1910. …Reduction-Gear Steering …[Master] Mechanic Manuel… [Industries], Audrey Rocia… from the time she… months, she could… any clock in the… Ana Ramirez found… any lock she… of trying to keep… that no matter

(Master Mechanic Manuel sounds plausible for the name of her father’s business. He’s characterized as somewhat self-centered along with how Audrey talks about him in the movie, she also seems to look up to her sister more than him with how she talks about her and has probably learned some about fighting from her. I can see him contributing to her tough attitude. Unknown if Ana is the name of her mother or sister.)

[STRONGBEAR SWEET] [Medical] Officer …Jerika [Sweet] [Internal Medicine?]… … .D. [University]… 189(?)… Medic… with… until 1901, acting as… Roosevelt's personal… during the Kettle and… [instrumental] in treatment of… in disease-ridden… ceased… Received no… [personal] letter from… [knowledge] of Arapho and… by his maternal (assuming uncle)… and studied… 1905. Traveled to… at Prins Oklahoma and… at Baxter

…in Fort Phil (Kearny?)… Pine Ridge

(I tried looking up Kansas universities that might fit with what’s cut off, seems like most likely he went to college out of state. ?.D. university… My best guesses are the universities of Idaho, South Dakota, or North Dakota. The University of Idaho may have been too young at the time to be a candidate, he would have been 27 already when it was established.) (if anyone knows what “the Kettle” is referring to please let me know!) (Side note, the mention in the scan of Sweet caring for people on both sides of the battle, presumably the Spanish-American war, calls to mind how Sweet seems to distrust Rourke’s motives but still tags along to be a doctor for the team. He’s so underrated I love Sweet so much.)

(Packard’s page, first angle:) [phone] in 1888… [professional]… ment(?) of work. …known… 1893. …1898-1901. …Worked… 1902-04. …1902. …1903. …[develop Radar]… (Packard’s page, second angle:) …[BERTHA] PACKARD [Communications?] Officer Cudot (parent name) …1875… of… [communication]… full… brating(?) Telephone in 1888… Secured congressional… (not much to gather from this one except that she seems to have been working with researchers and communication technology all her life, since she was 22. Could explain why she’s so nonchalant about her job by now.)

(Rourke’s page:) …life of… “C”… Golden… became… Also… (I wonder what “C” means, perhaps a codename? I'm assuming Golden refers to some kind of reward from the military.)

[hunty627]

Here are some episode titles for Cars: Hi-octane adventures.

Radiator Springs rookies. A bunch of new rookie racers in a newly starting racing team come to Radiator Springs after they finished racing school. One of them is me, the number one fan of Cars.

Supercharged at Silver Hatch. Lightning McQueen has recently watched videos of Roary the racing car and he and his racing team have decided to go to Silver Hatch and compete against Roary and his friends.

Muddy Mater. Mater gets covered in so much mud, it’s making it hard for him to drive.

Smokey’s missing tools. Smokey the pickup truck has lost his tools from his garage in Thomasville and needed our help to find them.

Trophy maintenance. Cruz Ramirez still wants her first ever trophy, which she won at Thunder Hollow during the crazy eight demolition derby. McQueen knew the tape wasn’t enough, so he decided to go buy some gorilla glue, which is perfect for the toughest jobs on planet earth.

Family day at Radiator Springs. Today was a special day at Radiator Springs. It was family day. Mater had invited all his cousins, including his big sister Mato. Cruz Ramirez knew that her cousin Mateo will be coming too. Luigi is gonna see his Uncle Topolino again. Cal Weathers will be coming with his uncle and aunt. And Francesco Bernoulli was coming all the way from Italy with his mama.

Docenstein. It was a gloomy day in Radiator Springs. Lightning McQueen was missing his mentor, Doc Hudson aka the Fabulous Hudson Hornet. Smokey understood how McQueen and his friends felt. So did Junior Moon, River Scott and Louise Nash. I wanted to do something to set things right. So, after rewatching the scene from Frankenweenie where Sparky was brought back to life, I went to the scrapyard where I found the remains of an old and broken up 1950 Hudson Hornet. I knew that was what was left of Doc. I thought if Dr. Frankenstein was able to bring his monster to life and everything turned out okay for him, it would work the same for a car that was built way before the more high tech models. Will I succeed in jumpstarting the Hudson Hornet back to life? Only time will tell.

A double date drive. Lightning McQueen and Sally had arranged to go for a drive together for a romantic date. And Mater was gonna join in with his girlfriend, Holley Shiftwell. What will they see and where will they go?

Rotor the scaredy-chopper. Rotor Turbosky the Dinoco helicopter was flying to Radiator Springs, all the way from his home in the big city. Mater had invited him because he wanted to ride with him around Cadillac Range. But just as Rotor arrived, he began having engine trouble! He crashed, but he wasn’t hurt and there was no fire. After he was fixed, Rotor began to feel afraid to fly after the crash scared him. Will Rotor get his courage back and take flight again?

Jackson’s new engine. The next-gen racers were playing at the beach, when Jackson Storm’s engine blew up! He got his engine full of sand, so his race car engine had to go for a total rebuild. The only substitute was an old recycled tractor engine. Will Jackson get his race car engine back when all the sand is cleared out during the total rebuild?

Ivy comes to town. Mater and McQueen were feeling very excited. Their monster truck friend Ivy was coming to visit.

[stateofsport211]

Wimbledon MS Q3: Meet Your Qualifiers (2/2)

The atmosphere inside the Wimbledon qualifying rounds, illustrated from 2019 (📸 The Guardian)

The condensed version in a Twitter thread can be found here. The first part of the article, featuring the first 8 qualifiers, can be found here.

As the third qualifying round was held in a best-of-5 sets (compared to the previous rounds' 3) per the Wimbledon tradition, several matches finished later than others due to it being more lengthy, mostly as they went deep into the fourth or fifth sets. They often involved rollercoasters for some reason, but their ability to maintain their range in various possible means, alongside their endurance to complete this match in 5 sets, would also be another aspect of attention toward the later parts of some of these matches.

The remaining matches are also written in the order they advance. Beware, this is a possible long read.

Section 16: Vit Kopriva [16] def. Richard Gasquet [20] 3-6, 6-3, 6-2, 6-4

Vit Kopriva's point to to 2-1* 0-15, 2nd set (left) and 3-3* 40-ad, 4th set (right) (📸 Wimbledon qualifications feed)

20th seed and 2007 Wimbledon semifinalist Richard Gasquet, who appeared in a Grand Slam qualification rounds for the first time since the 2004 US Open, prevailed in the first two qualifying rounds as he defeated Oliver Crawford 6-2, 7-6(8) and Alexis Galarneau 6-1, 6-0 in a dominant performance, faced an interesting performance in 16th seed Vit Kopriva, who stunned Henri Squire 4-6, 7-6(1), 6-4 and Hugo Dellien 6-4, 3-6, 6-1 to advance to the third qualifying round. Interestingly, while this looked like the draw was built for the Frenchman to advance, it was not the case here throughout the match.

Even though R. Gasquet controlled the first set and took it 6-3, V. Kopriva tried to absorb his pace as he fired a notable cross-court backhand pass to pave the way even if the 20th seed held that game, ultimately breaking to 3-1 before ultimately taking the second set 6-3. Sooner or later, R. Gasquet became out of gas while V. Kopriva appeared slightly more powerful, where the Czech 16th seed was spotted having a forehand winner to generate his break point, breaking to 4-3 before he consolidated his lead. He had not looked back since, trusting the adaptability of his clay-rooted game to take the fourth set 6-4, securing his Wimbledon main draw appearance as this was feared to be "the beginning of the end" for R. Gasquet.

Section 2: Hugo Gaston [2] def. Mikhail Kukushkin [27] 6-2, 1-6, 7-5, 6-1

Hugo Gaston's point to *0-3 40-40 (first break point save) in the 2nd set (left) and to lead 6-5* 0-15 in the 3rd set (right) (📸 Wimbledon qualification feed)

Despite being eliminated early in the first round of the Ilkley Challenger (l. M. Tomas Barrios Vera) after winning the Lyon Challenger back on clay, second seed Hugo Gaston continued his journey as he defeated Shintaro Mochizuki 7-6(5), 6-4 and Dino Prizmic 4-6, 7-5, 6-2 in several chaotic showings, ultimately finding the way out with a victory before facing 27th seed Mikhail Kukushkin, who also qualified for Roland Garros, carrying on his resurgence after two quarterfinal finishes in Surbiton and Nottingham (grass), both lost (the second one was a retirement) to Billy Harris as he knocked out both Vitaliy Sachko and Benjamin Bonzi in straight sets. The best-of-five sets might have tested M. Kukushkin's endurance, but he left it all out there.

The first two sets started chaotically as H. Gaston's dominance secured him the first set before M. Kukushkin tried to raise his level. Interestingly, after a break thanks to the latter's aggression, H. Gaston had initial break-back points, to no avail as the Kazakh consolidated to 3-0. The 2nd seed then tried to avoid further demolition through a backhand finish after a net exchange to save a break point, ultimately putting his name on the board before the second set ended with a breadstick (1-6). Somehow, H. Gaston successfully broke for the third set as he started the 12th game there with a working volley, going after M. Kukushkin's forehands until the latter went out of gas, taking a medical timeout before finally getting breadsticked back (1-6) by the end of the fourth set, thus advancing H. Gaston to the main draw.

Section 5: Lloyd Harris [5] def. Hugo Grenier 6-4, 6-2, 3-6, 7-6(5)

Lloyd Harris' point to 4-4* 15-40 (1st set, left) 6-6(2-1) in the 4th set tie-break (right) (📸 Wimbledon qualifications feed)

5th seed Lloyd Harris spent some time in the Asian Challenger swing, where this part of his post-injury rebuilding paid off as he won the Surbiton Challenger title (d. Leandro Riedi) despite exiting earlier in Nottingham (grass) and Ilkley Challengers, putting himself back to the Top 100. However, since this was achieved past the Wimbledon direct entry deadline, the South African had to play the qualification rounds, where he defeated Andrea Vavassori and George Loffhagen, the latter in two tie-break sets. He faced an intriguing challenge in Hugo Grenier, who defeated Murkel Dellien and knocked out 24th seed Zachary Svajda en route to the third qualifying round.

L. Harris had a convincing start to the match as he maintained his service games more consistently, somehow paving the way to break from H. Grenier's failed smash before a working drop shot secured his break point. The break succeeded, and the South African took the first set 6-4 before extending his dominance as he took the second set 6-2. However, a slight dip happened as an erroneous service game resulted in H. Grenier being able to break and taking the third set 6-3, and L. Harris hung on well to take the match to the fourth set tie-breaker, where another failed smash from the Frenchman set up the former's mini-break before his consolidation, and he had not looked back since before taking the fourth set 7-6(4), thus confirming his place in the main draw after his absence due to injury.

Section 8: Radu Albot def. Daniel Elahi Galan [8] 6-4, 6-2, 6-7(6), 6-3

Radu Albot's point to 4-2* 30-40 (initial break point, 2nd set) (📸 Wimbledon qualifications feed)

Having qualified for Wimbledon last year, Radu Albot tried to repeat the feat once again within the past year as he knocked out both Francesco Maestrelli 6-2, 6-7(5), 6-2, and one of this section's (on-paper) favorites, Bu Yunchaokete, 7-5, 6-7(10), 6-4 in both thrilling encounters. He then faced 8th seed Daniel Elahi Galan, who relied on his experience to defeat Oriol Roca Batalla 6-3, 6-4 and Gabriel Diallo 6-4, 7-6(5) in the first two qualifying rounds. There might have appeared to be a tiny difference between both players, but the (slightly) more aggressive one took it at the end of the day.

In this case, R. Albot's forehand might have been slightly too powerful to handle as evident toward the end of the second set, with Galan being run over from his forehand side before being broken again to 5-2 due to another +1 forehand error. By the end of that set, the Moldovan took it 6-2, but his mini-break lead in the tie-breaker (which occurred after his pass secured the last service-game hold of the set) was neutralized, prompting the fourth set as Galan took the said set. Somehow, Albot managed to maintain his range, taking the fourth set 6-3 to secure another Wimbledon main draw appearance.

Section 9: Mattia Bellucci def. David Goffin [9] 6-3, 2-6, 7-6(4), 6-4

Mattia Bellucci's point to 2-2* 40-ad (one of the break points in the 1st set, left), and to convert his match point to 6-4 in the fourth set (📸 Eurosport SE via Wimbledon qualifications World Feed)

Some might have thought in-form ninth seed David Goffin would have it all, topping his form by winning the Ilkley Challenger (d. Harold Mayot), following it up with a straight-set victory against Marc Polmans and Yasutaka Uchiyama in the first two qualifying rounds. However, the Belgian had an intriguing challenge as he faced a fellow in-form player Mattia Bellucci, who notably reached the Nottingham (grass) Challenger semifinal (l. Jacob Fearnley) before surviving several tussles in the qualifying rounds here in Wimbledon: stunning 31st seed Duje Ajdukovic 5-7, 7-6, 7-6(12) before defeating Bernabe Zapata Miralles 7-6(3), 6-3.

M. Bellucci had a confident start to the first set thanks to his point construction, brilliantly volleying his way after his drop shot to save a break point before holding his serves, eventually breaking before taking the first set 6-3. D. Goffin tried to match the pace, somehow taking the second set before M. Bellucci struck back, notably hitting a dive volley midway. However, D. Goffin's unforced errors in the third set tie-breaker resulted in the Italian taking the set 7-6(4), and the latter found his way through a 4-1 lead before the Belgian 9th seed bounced back with a break-back, leveling the play to 4-4 after. It took two more games before M. Bellucci had an inspired return game, perfectly finishing a rally with a volley to break for the match, taking the fourth set 6-4 to secure his spot in the main draw.

Section 15: Otto Virtanen def. Roman Andres Burruchaga 6-1, 6-2, 5-7, 7-6(4)

Otto Virtanen's point to break 3-1 in the 1st set (left) and to take the fourth set 7-6(4) (right) (📸 Wimbledon qualifications feed)

While some also expected this draw to be built for him, Otto Virtanen survived 2 different rollercoasters as he saved 4 match points before defeating Franco Agamenone 6-7(6), 6-2, 7-6(5) and saved another 4 match points before knocking out Alexander Ritschard 6-7(1), 7-5, 5-4, setting up an intriguing clash in another Roland Garros qualifier, Roman Andres Burruchaga, who stunned Gustavo Heide 5-7, 7-6(4), 6-1 before defeating 18th seed Stefano Napolitano 6-4, 6-4 in the first two qualifying rounds. On paper, this might have been O. Virtanen's match for the taking, but even if it was the case, it ended up in another rollercoaster as most of the flow was on his racquet.

O. Virtanen initially had a dominant start to the match, serving the first-set breadstick 6-1 2 games after he broke thanks to a forehand down-the-line winner to finish the first set in 26 minutes, extending his dominance as he took the second set 6-2. However, his classic rollercoaster occurred in the third set despite leading by a break before going deep into the set, somehow on par with R.A. Burruchaga stepping up as he took advantage of the Finn's unseriousness, thus the Argentinean took the third set 7-5. Somehow, the fourth set ended in a tie-breaker, which fittingly ended with a backhand let-cord moment from O. Virtanen as he served it out, taking the fourth set 7-6(4) to finally secure his main draw place after bringing himself (and everyone) to another rollercoaster.

Section 13: Felipe Meligeni R. Alves d. Maxime Cressy 6-4, 1-6, 7-6(5), 4-6, 6-4

Felipe Meligeni R. Alves' point to break 2-0, 3rd set (left) and to break 3-1, 5th set (right) (📸 Wimbledon qualifications feed)

Despite suffering an early exit from the Ilkley Challenger first round (l. Lloyd Harris), Felipe Meligeni R. Alves had a strong campaign in the Wimbledon qualification rounds, defeating Illya Marchenko 6-2, 6-4 and Joris de Loore 7-6(3), 6-4 in the first two qualifying rounds before facing Maxime Cressy, who tried to regain his form in the grass season as the latter defeated Marc-Andrea Huesler 6-7(3), 6-3, 7-5 in a competitive and possibly crucial encounter in the first qualifying round before edging out 21st seed Thiago Agustin Tirante 7-6(9), 6-3 in the round after. Somehow, this match became extended into 5 sets and showed the importance of accurate rallying while maintaining consistent service games, which were hard in practice on this match.

F. Meligeni Alves began the match convincingly as he took the first set 6-4, but there was a slight dip in the second set as M. Cressy served his way to take the second-set breadstick (6-1). There was a moment where the Brazilian broke to 2-0 thanks to a successful backhand lob to start the third set, but he got broken back (thanks to M. Cressy's forehands) with the tie-breaker became inevitable several points later, where the Brazilian's forehand return ace played a pivotal role for a mini-break (2-1) before he held to 3-1. Eventually, F. Meligeni Alves took the 3rd set 7-6(5) but experienced another slight dip as Cressy took the fourth set 6-4. Interestingly, the former's swift returns not only generated his break point, but also converted it (from his backhand side) to break 3-1 in the fifth, and he had not looked back since, surviving Cressy's cumulative 32 aces and 96 net approaches as he took the deciding set 6-4, thus qualifying for another Grand Slam main draw.

Section 11: Alex Bolt [Alt] def. Leandro Riedi [32] 6-7(2), 2-6, 7-6(7), 7-5, 6-4

Alex Bolt's point to 5-5* 15-40 (initial break point from the fourth set, left) and to 3-3* 30-40 (another break point from the fifth set, right) (📸 Wimbledon qualifications feed)

Entering the Wimbledon qualification rounds last-minute as an alternate due to Valentin Vacherot's withdrawal, Alex Bolt proved himself to be one of those to be watched out for with his decent grass-court game as he defeated both Nicolas Kicker and Rudolf Molleker in an identical scoreline (6-1, 6-4). In the third qualification round, he faced an intriguing opponent in Leandro Riedi, who was the Surbiton Challenger runner-up (l. Lloyd Harris) before withdrawing from his Ilkley Challenger second qualifying round match (v. Denis Kudla). Riedi defeated Juan Pablo Ficovich 6-0, 7-6(1) and Patrick Kypson 6-2, 3-6, 7-5, where this match became an interesting clash despite their almost similar approaches, coming down to their shot execution in crucial times.

Indeed, L. Riedi looked to be on the course to victory as he dominated the second set as a continuation to another dominant showing in the first-set tie-breaker, but it was a different story starting the third-set tie-breaker. There, L. Riedi started the tie-breaker with a forehand winner (1-0) before another unforced error steadily equalized the point. A. Bolt saved a match point, ultimately taking the third set 7-6(7) before steadily turning it around. This became more visible as his preceding forehand outhit L. Riedi's lob side before breaking to 6-5, finally sealing the fourth set 7-5. As a result, this match became the second of the day that went to the fifth, where A. Bolt's crucial pass secured his break point, ultimately breaking to 4-3 before taking the fifth set 6-4 several games later, thus securing his Grand Slam main draw debut in relief (and simultaneously, disbelief and elation).

The draw ceremony will be conducted at 10am local time, and the lucky losers will also feature in a separate article should there be any withdrawals.

[ilopisara]

18.02. 22:11 | Ilo Pisara vs Czech Team 6 - 2

Ladies and gentlemen, gather around as I regale you with the tale of our latest hockey conquest where Ilo Pisara didn't just win; we made history in a 6-2 demolition job against Czech Team. It was less of a game and more of an exhibition on how to make grown men consider a career change. First off, let's talk about Sami Noddy – this man was on fire! Scoring 5 goals is no small feat unless you're playing against toddlers... which now that I think about it, might've been the case given our opponents' performance. If there were any scouts watching, they probably left after his third goal to call their GMs. Teppo Winnipeg turned passing into an art form so exquisite even Picasso would hang up his brushes. Four assists without breaking a sweat? The only thing he didn’t do was sell popcorn during intermission! And Jani Saari – oh boy – orchestrating plays like Beethoven if he decided ice hockey > symphonies. Five assists while giving away the puck like it’s last season's fashion trend wasn’t ideal but hey, nobody’s perfect. But here’s the kicker: Our rivals decided they had enough fun being outclassed and opted for an early shower - quitting before time ran out! Talk about not finishing what you started; guess they preferred preserving whatever dignity they had left over facing us till the bitter end. In conclusion: another day at the office for Ilo Pisara with performances ranging from legendary to "please don't quit your day job." Onward we march!

[thxnews]

Refinery Interchange Upgrade Set for 2024 Finish

Transforming Transportation and Economy

The highly anticipated completion of the Refinery Interchange upgrade is set for the end of February 2024. This significant project, which resumed construction in early 2024 after the festive builders' break, is nearing its final stages. With a budget of R248 million, the project, initiated in July 2021, is not only a transportation milestone but also a catalyst for economic growth, providing job opportunities and supporting local enterprises, including 56 SMMEs.  

Enhancing Road Capacity and Safety

The project's core focus was on the demolition of the old bridge on the N7, which was inadequate for high-load vehicles. Replacing it are two new bridges, streamlining westbound and eastbound traffic on Plattekloof Road and completing the dualling of the road between Koeberg Road and the N1. This significant enhancement is expected to greatly improve the capacity and safety of traffic operations at the Refinery Interchange.  

Comprehensive Scope of the Project

The Refinery Interchange upgrade encompasses a wide range of construction activities. These include the construction of new carriageways, road-over-road bridge overpasses, widening interchange ramps, and reconstructing and widening existing structures. The project also involves demolishing the old road-over-road bridge overpass and building reinforced concrete retaining walls on interchange ramps.  

Economic and Community Impact

Tertuis Simmers, the provincial Minister of Infrastructure, highlighted the project's importance. "The Refinery Interchange is crucial for the economy and commuters. Completing it on time was paramount," he said. The project has not only improved traffic operations but also created nearly 500 local jobs and injected over R50 million into SMMEs, demonstrating its significant impact over the past two and a half years.   Conclusion As the Refinery Interchange upgrade nears completion, it stands as a testament to effective infrastructure development, enhancing local economies and ensuring safer, more efficient transportation for commuters. The project is a clear indication of progress and development, showcasing the positive outcomes of well-planned infrastructure initiatives.   Sources: THX News & Western Cape Minister of Infrastructure Tertuis Simmers. Read the full article

[ramblinganthropologist]

Writober 2023 11 - Wander

Summary: As the Inquisition moves into Skyhold, Kaaras finds himself wandering both physically and mentally. This is a lot to take in... and it's only going to get weirder.

He can only hope he doesn't get a dumb title like Inquisitor or something. Creators forbid.

---

Well… one thing he could say about Skyhold was that it was big and cold. Also, it was a mess. He might not have known much about living inside solid buildings, but even Kaaras had some criticisms at this point.

Mostly… the place was kind of a dump.

He was alone for the moment, exploring what was to be the Inquisition’s new home after Corypheus had destroyed their base at Haven. On the bright side, it wasn’t a Chantry building – hopefully would never be if he got his way – but on the dark side… yeah, it was a mess. Nobody had lived there in ages, so it had kind of gone to shit.

And if he, the guy who lived in aravels and in tents for his entire life could notice it, he wasn’t even sure what the people who knew more about housing thought of it.

At the moment, Kaaras was wandering through the upper levels of the Great Hall. Josephine had said he was going to have his room above everything, but it wasn’t ready yet. So there he was, walking down abandoned halls that hadn’t felt footsteps in ages, listening to the sounds of renovation beginning below.

Everyone had been relieved to find a new base after Haven… but he wasn’t so sure.

“At least it’ll fit everyone without needing tents.” Or it would once they had finished the rebuild. They were trying to figure out how much that was going to cost… a lot was his estimation, but Josephine would come up with proper numbers. No doubt it was going to take a lot – the place was made of stone in the middle of a mountain range. Getting supplies was going to be a pain in the ass.

Also, it was big. They could only hope to renovate in stages as they found their footing and maybe found the funds.

Kaaras found himself climbing a flight of stairs, laden thick with dust and debris. Tattered banners flew in the wind, covered in torn symbols he had only seen in books. None of them were Chantry related thankfully, but no doubt the faithful were dying to make their mark. He would have to put a stop to that where he could.

Not everywhere – even Andrastians deserved a place to worship – but even if they were technically a holy army he wasn’t going to brand it that way. It went against his Dalish sensibilities.

Then again, when had the Chantry ever listened to the Dalish? He might have to get… creative there.

At any rate, his feet led him to the top of the stairs. It opened to a large room with a cracked fireplace and a balcony that opened up to the mountain range. It was empty, but in time it was to be a bedroom if he followed the plan.

It was to be his bedroom if he read it right.

“So… I guess this is where they’re going to store me when I’m not annoying the Chantry.”

Truth be told, he made a terrible Herald of Andraste, and not just because he wasn’t Andrastian. What the Chantry wanted he usually didn’t, and he wasn’t exactly a great mouthpiece. No doubt Cassandra regretted ever pulling him out of the Breech – maybe they could’ve gotten someone devout to be their mouthpiece.

Unfortunately, they got a Dalish qunari who wasn’t exactly fond of Andraste. Her mabari was fine by him, though – the Fereldens agreed with him there.

Kaaras sought the balcony with careful feet, ready to jump back should it not be able to support his weight. Lucky for him and the Inquisition – maybe not for the Chantry sisters or Cassandra – it held and he was able to get a view of the surrounding mountains.

Even with the cold wind blowing from the north, it was a nice view. The mountains still held on to their snowcaps, and probably would for the entire season. Their position would be easier to defend than Haven had been, at least by his guess. He was just a demolitions guy after all – his job was to blow things up, not keep them in place.

“It’s nice enough… I just wish I hadn’t nearly died for it.”

Kaaras sighed as he rested his arms on the railing of the balcony, leaning down. Everything still hurt, even though the healers had seen to him once he had found the rest of the Inquisition after Haven. The chill from trudging through the snow half dead hadn’t left his bones yet either – he shuddered as he pulled his cardigan tighter to try and ward it off.

He would hope that would go away in time… but part of him doubted it was going to happen.

The wind continued to blow through the open room as he stared out into the snowy mountain landscape. If he closed his eyes, he could still remember the night Corypheus and his forces had attacked. The fires had blazed through Haven, trapping soldiers and civilians alike. They had rescued everyone they could, gotten them out…

And then the dragon had showed up.

It wasn’t the wind that made Kaaras shudder as he backed away from the balcony. He could still picture it – smell it even, the thing was foul – dark against the blazing fires of the ruined camp. It had been a battle and a half, and in the end it hadn’t amounted to much.

No doubt about it… it had been a complete loss. They were lucky to even be alive with who they had.

“We need to build up fast in case he comes back.” Kaaras shook his head as he tried to chase the dragon and Corypheus from his memories. It didn’t work, but he tried. “Whoever’s in charge has their work cut out for them.”

Josephine, maybe? Or maybe not – she had enough on her plate as the Ambassador to the Inquisition. Leliana was more of a behind the scenes figure, true to her position as the former left hand of the Divine. Cassandra was just a no – he’d rather the long dead Cullen led them.

Hissra maybe? She was doing a good job of leading the troops…

“I thought I’d find you up here.”

The voice made Kaaras turned. Despite the cold, heat rose in his face as he saw Dorian standing by the stairs. The mage soon joined him by the balcony, choosing to go right up to the edge in order to get the best view.

“It was too loud for me in the hall, so I decided to wander and see what I could find.” He joined Dorian at the railing, giving him a healthy amount of space. “I think this is supposed to be my room when everything’s fixed, but I could have read it wrong.”

It was a bit much for him – he was used to aravels and tents. Having so much space to himself was just… bizarre honestly.

“No, I do believe this is to be your space. The leader does tend to get the best space.” Dorian glanced towards the mountains. “And the best view. It looked good from what’s to be the library, but you’ve got it beat.”

Kaaras chuckled weakly as he shook his head. “Nobody’s dumb enough to make me lead the Inquisition, I’m just the weird hand that closes the rifts.”

After all, he wasn’t a leader. He was just a demolitions guy. If not for the fact his hand could close the Breech and keep demons from piling out, he would just be another Inquisition agent. That was the only thing he really brought to the table.

“Judging by the sword I saw them dig out, I think you’re going to be quite surprised the next time you’re called to the Great Hall.” Dorian paused. “Though the name is a bit of a misnomer at the moment. It doesn’t appear to be too great right now. Perhaps we should call it the Maybe Hall until they finish?”

The joke fell somewhat flat as Kaaras gave his remarks a blank stare. Names aside… him? Who in their right mind would pick him? Who would be dumb enough to choose a Dalish qunari to lead the Andrastian holy army? It was enough to give every chantry sister and brother an aneurism at the thought.

Then again, if they were secretly trying to thin out the holy heads of the Chantry… well, he could play that game.

“I’m probably one of the worst choices, Dorian. We need a leader, not…” He gestured to himself. “You know.”

The mage shot him a blank look in return. “No, I don’t. It’s because of you that we survived Haven at all, Kaaras. You were the one who manned the trebuchets after saving so many people. Add in the fact you’re the only one able to close the rifts, and you’re a natural choice.”

But Haven had only been destroyed because Corypheus had been after him… if not for him, more people might have survived…

Kaaras sighed as he rested his arms on the railing, head low. “I’m not exactly leader material, Dorian. I’m not even Andrastian.”

“You sell yourself short on the former…” Briefly, Dorian quirked a smile. “And perhaps the Chantry needs an outsider to keep their noses clean. I doubt you’ll be eager to convert the nonbelievers and claim lands for Andraste.”

That made him snort. “Pardon my language, but fuck no.”

Proselytizing for any faith, especially one that wasn’t his own, was the last thing he’d ever do. When it came down to it, he didn’t particularly care what people believed in as long as they weren’t using it to start a campaign of terror against his people or lock him in chains. A zealot he was not, to put it bluntly.

So maybe Dorian had a point there. At least this way he could keep an eye on things.

“My, I had no idea you even knew how to use those words.” Dorian jokingly put a hand to his heart as if he had been offended. “Well, besides the volley of ‘fucks’ I heard when the dragon showed up. I think you created a new language made just of expletives.”

Kaaras felt his face heat up as he glanced away. “I mean, can you blame me? Not every day you face something like that down.”

“Oh, I was doing the same right next to you, so I can hardly judge.” The mage chuckled, a sound that made Kaaras’ stomach turn as it often did. “But really, are you going to accept when they offer you the role?”

Was he?

The thought caused him to frown as he stared out at the snowy expanse of the mountains surrounding and protecting Skyhold. The events of the last week or so were still running through his mind. Corypheus wanted him. He was the only one who could close the rifts and keep out demons.

He was Dalish and qunari in an Andrastian holy army.

“I… well, if they’re foolish enough to offer it to me, at least I can use it to keep an eye on the next Exalted March.”

Dorian patted him on the shoulder – there went his heart. “There you go. Also, they’ll probably ask your opinion on the next Divine.”

Fuck that – if they asked him, he was nominating Akri out of spite.

“I think we’re getting a little ahead of ourselves there, but I guess it’s something to keep in mind.” Kaaras smiled slightly, still feeling his heart beat hard against his binder. “Thanks for the vote of confidence, Dorian.”

The mage smiled back, making his stomach churn. “Well, someone has to provide it. You could use a little more ego.”

“But if I have too much my head won’t fit through the door with my horns.”

That made them both chuckle, a sound that carried over the mountains and disappeared. Something about it made Kaaras feel warm inside, even with the cold breeze coming from the north.

He still didn’t feel like the right person for this nonsense… but he was willing to try.

“Oh, thank the Maker, there you are, Herald! I’ve been looking all over for you!”

A scout’s head appeared at the top of the stairs, followed by the rest of his body. Kaaras broke away from the balcony and met him in the middle of the room. No doubt his wandering was over for the day.

“Can I help you?”

The scout nodded and motioned for him to follow. “Lady Montilyet and the others are waiting for you outside the Great Hall. They said it’s important.”

Looks like Dorian was right after all…

Kaaras resisted the urge to sigh as he nodded. “I’ll be right down, thank you.”

The scout disappeared, their footsteps thundering down the steps, leaving Dorian and Kaaras alone in what would eventually be his quarters. Even though he hadn’t seen it, he knew what was about to happen.

Which was why he probably wanted to hide up there… but that would just bring more scouts.

“Before you go…” Dorian reached up to adjust his cardigan. “There, it was hanging off your shoulder. You want to look your best when being declared the head of a holy army.”

“Of course, it’s only natural.” Kaaras didn’t even try to hide the sarcasm as he smoothed back his hair and tightened his ribbon. “Well, time to go make a lot of people unhappy. I find I’m good at that lately.”

Came with the job, he supposed. No doubt he was going to get a lot more practice as the head of the Inquisition. He could only hope he wouldn’t get a stupid title to go with it – Herald of Andraste was bad enough.

Please don’t let it be something stupid or grandiose like… Inquisitor. He’d die on the spot.

[jeongyunhoed]

Past-Present-Future   Black Dahlia     RED: Rogue, Extremely Dangerous

The fourth and final installment to the superpowers AU. San’s past comes catching up to him as he is targeted by an old colleague turned foe. With everyone else caught in the crossfire, San is forced to reveal what happened to him in the years before going on the search for his sister.

group: ATEEZ member: San pairing: yunho/oc, san/oc (in flashbacks) t/w (in this chapter): fear of heights, mentions of death, funerals, just ominous themes all around.

things to note: And this, marks the end of our superpowers au. This has been a years-long AU that I've been writing, both the original canon and the remade one. I hope you enjoyed this as much as I have for the past...nine years or so because I started the first story back in 2013. I'm excited for the other WIPs I've got to write and finish. Also, the final sequence is like a post-credits scene, haha. 

word count: 2648

tagging: @kflixnet

Masterlist

Chapter 10 - Final 

San got out of bed later that night. He heard the weird rumbling coming from the middle of the city and it didn’t help his efforts in trying to sleep. It was especially loud, and he figured that it was probably some construction mishap, or a demolition that was taking place at this hour, when there were the least cars on the roads and people in the streets. 

Stepping out of his room, he glanced at the one other room in the apartment. Yunho was sleeping in his own apartment for the night. San would have to deal with being the only one living there for a while. For a while, he reminded himself, refusing to accept the only other scenario. 

The apartment felt unusually bigger without her, and everything remained the same. As San walked through the apartment, he stopped whenever he saw something of hers. The pairs of shoes that were lined by the door, the bag hanging on the coat rack, along with the khaki green jacket that she wore whenever the weather got a little chilly. 

San stopped at the pictures that were hanging on the wall, and the certificates that were hanging above them. The pictures grew in number since then, from being mostly of her and Jihoon, to the two of them, to her and Yunho, to the three of them, pictures with Hyuk and Chanyeol, with Junhong, and then all of them together, including their first Christmas. There were even pictures with Ino that even Mirae didn’t want to take down after what happened the previous year. 

His eyes scanned through the pictures and he stopped again when he saw the staff leaning against the wall. San sniffled, blinking back the tears that were poised to fall, as his mind kept replaying the last moments he had. Jungwoo wanting to keep torturing her until he caved, all the while torturing everyone else all because he wanted more power, more mutant power. 

The doorbell suddenly rang and San approached the monitor to see who it was. There was no one there, and it only meant one thing. San went down to the door and opened it, seeing Yeosang standing behind. “A little late for you to be here, isn’t it?” He said, stifling a look of surprise at how Yeosang looked now. 

“Where is Yunho?” He said, sidestepping San to enter the apartment. San closed the door behind them only to step back when Yunho suddenly appeared, looking a little frazzled. 

“I’m right here,” He said, San following him back into the apartment. “I had an insane dream, something about statues.” 

“Then you have received the vision,” Yeosang stared at the taller male.  

San looked confused. “Okay, what the hell is going on? Why are both of you here?” He asked. “No, why are you here, Yeosang?” 

“I am here because I will need Yunho’s help. I spoke with Mark not too long ago-” 

“Mark? Mark Lee?” San and Yunho looked surprised, and Yeosang nodded. “What does that guy want now? We beat him last year, remember?” 

“That may be so, but alas, what Mark and I have found out and what Yunho has dreamt about, is something much bigger than us,” Yeosang’s expression remained stern. “If you two keep staring at me like that, it is because I haven’t fed.” 

“Okay, so what was that about?” Yunho said. 

Yeosang studied their expressions for a moment. “The statues have broken, they have woken up, and mutantkind, humanity, is at risk. Those statues have traveled all across the world over the centuries, the last time I saw them was in Tokyo in 1935. There’s also a chance those could be in eastern Europe, at least that is what Mark thinks.” 

“Statues? Like mutant statues?” San asked. 

Yeosang shook his head. “Something else entirely. If you ever wonder what the very first of our kind was like, this might give you an idea. Mark and his entire cabal of bastards are aware, as does the very man who betrayed Mirae.” 

Yunho and San exchanged looks. “Ino…” They said at the same time. 

“Yes. Ino is looking for those statues as well. We must get to those statues before Ino does, especially as Ino may still bear a grudge,” Yeosang said. “But we will need to be sure so we must go to Japan tonight.” 

Yunho nodded. “Okay then, I’ll wake Seonghwa up-” 

“That is also something I must point out. Just because I told the two of you doesn’t mean you two will bring the rest of them along, only the two of you can go, the rest cannot follow,” Yeosang gave them a look. “At least for now, but I doubt their…services are needed as much as yours,” He pointed to the taller male. 

“Alright, alright, I won’t tell them, but they will wonder where we’ve gone so I have to at least tell Seonghwa this,” Yunho pointed out, and Yeosang nodded in defeat. 

“I shall inform you of where to meet as we will take my jet to go there. You two must pack some belongings immediately,” Yeosang told them before rushing out of the door, closing it behind him. 

San turned to Yunho, trying to process what Yeosang told them. “So, we’re going?” He asked. 

“I don’t think we have a choice if what Yeosang’s saying is true, and if what I dreamt of was true…” Yunho shrugged. “It’s going to be hard, doing this all without her, but we’ll have to do it. No one else can.” 

“If Yeosang turns out to be a liar, I can’t promise you I won’t try to kill him,” San said. 

“Hey, you’re talking to me, I’d gladly kill him,” Yunho assured him. 

As soon as Yunho disappeared in the hallway, San looked over to the pictures, his eyes traveling towards the staff that was leaning against the wall. He picked up the silver object, retracting it to its shorter form. Somehow he felt he might need it, and he brought it with him to his room. 

~ 

Seonghwa felt his legs shake from nervousness and fright as he was standing on the ledge of the roof of the record store. It was four stories high and Seonghwa felt himself freezing, unable to look down. Mirae was standing next to him, and Yunho was standing by the fire escape ladders, his appearance obscured enough for him to be able to teleport. Hongjoong was standing by as well, as was San, both of them looking up at them from the ground. 

Wooyoung, Mingi, and Jongho were standing behind Mirae and Seonghwa, watching what they were about to do. Junhong was also standing by, clipboard in hand and ready to take notes. 

“Why are we up here?” He asked nervously. 

“Because, if you want to better learn about your powers, what better way to use it in a situation like this?” Mirae said. “Hyuk would’ve taught you this, but he isn’t, so it’ll be me. Who knows, you might actually be a stronger telekinetic than you thought.” 

Seonghwa swallowed hard. “This is insane,” He said, trying his hardest not to look down. 

“You’ll be fine. You have five seconds to break our fall and keep us afloat, if you hesitate, Yunho will pop in and out to get us down safely. If not Yunho, Hongjoong will. Think of it as another way to train how fast you can be,” Mirae glanced at the speedster, who nodded. 

“Worst case scenario, Wooyoung will get us out,” Junhong chimed in. 

“Hey!” Wooyoung gave them a look. Mingi and Jongho laughed. 

“How about, to make even more challenging, Jongho’s standing down here with his spikes out?” San yelled. 

“Good idea,” Mirae grinned, and Jongho ran down the stairs. “You’ll be fine,” She assured Seonghwa, who nodded. “There will come a time that you can’t use the bow and arrows, or you have nothing at all. Not even what we know might help, so your powers can come in.”

“I really hope you’re right,” Seonghwa said. 

Mirae patted his shoulder then held his hand. “You ready? Five seconds,” She said, and grabbed onto him as they jumped down the ledge. 

Seonghwa let out a yelp as he held onto Mirae, his eyes and fingertips immediately emitting a green glow. Mirae was under him and she was inches above Jongho’s spiked form, barely touching the ends of the spikes that were coming from his arm. “Not bad!” Hongjoong called out to them, San cheering as well. 

Seonghwa sighed in relief, only for the two of them to collapse on the ground just when Jongho put his arm down. “Couldn’t hold it that long?” San chuckled as they stood up. 

~ 

Junhong pulled the van up to the airport later that night. “I still don’t understand why Yeosang only needed the two of you, but okay, if he says so,” He said. 

“Worried?” Yunho asked. 

“Well, I haven’t been on this kind of mission, you’ll need my help,” Junhong pointed out, making the two of them chuckle. “But, I guess I’ll tell the others what’s going on. I’ve already outfitted your bags with things you might need anyway.” 

San stared at the taller male. “Heol…you could seriously make it as a pickpocketer, you know,” He said. 

Junhong grinned. “Hey, before Professor Jang found me, I might’ve done a few things as a kid,” He said. “If the fighting spills over here, we’ll be at the ready.” 

“Good, from the looks of this, it might be,” San said. 

Junhong nodded, and the two of them got out of the van, giving the taller male an assuring wave. Junhong drove away, and Yunho and San turned to enter the airport. “I would’ve thought we’d be at a private airport hangar if we’re taking Yeosang’s jet over there,” Yunho muttered. 

The two of them walked in the direction of what looked like the first-class lounge, but was actually the lounge for clients and associates of the Kang Organization to wait for the jet to be ready. 

“The last time I was in this kind of lounge was when Mirae and I flew to the south of France for a vacation,” San recalled as they were served drinks upon sitting down on the plush couches. “We went on a cruise afterwards. Yeosang invited us. Then again, he found out we were on the same flight as him so he upgraded our seats.” 

“That was the one thing I wasn’t able to do with her,” Yunho said, looking down at the glass of gin and tonic that he was given. “Thinking about it now, we weren’t able to do a lot of things together.” 

San sipped his drink, staring at the bubbles as they waited. He was relieved they didn’t have to go through those security checkpoints or else they would really need Yeosang’s help in getting out of the endless hours of questioning, even more so when they arrived. Both of them were heavily armed. 

Yunho’s eyes widened as he took another drink, a familiar feeling coming over him. It was the same kind of feeling he got when he sensed Mirae for the first time, only it wasn’t just because he sensed her. He put his glass down and stood up, his expression hopeful yet surprised when he saw the woman who entered the lounge, only she looked different with her blonde, almost-white hair.

He took a few steps, seeing her stop at the sight of him as well. Yunho noticed how calm she looked, even as she was wearing what seemed like incredibly expensive clothes. “Mirae?” He said softly. 

“Hello,” She said. 

Yunho took another step closer, while she stayed put. “Is it-is it really you?” He said. 

“I guess so,” She replied. 

“But-but how? How are you alive?” Yunho was still trying to process seeing her. “You-you even look different too.” 

“I feel different,” Mirae said. “I was wondering the same thing, actually. How I’m alive…” 

Yunho took another step forward until he was right in front of her. “Did-did Yeosang bring you back to life?” He asked, trying to fight the urge to pull her in his arms until he was sure. 

“He couldn’t understand why either,” She said. “He found me where I died.” 

Yunho kept trying to read her mind. He wanted to be sure it was her. Mirae looked up at him, then noticed her brother having the exact same expression as him. “Mirae?” He said, his eyes almost welling with tears. 

“Hello Sanie,” She said. 

San moved past Yunho and hugged her tightly, sniffling as he tried to keep himself from breaking down. “Mirae…” He sniffled as he pulled away. 

“Yeah, it’s me,” She said, looking back at Yunho, who moved to hug her as well. 

San blinked back his tears. “Looks like we were right, we should’ve waited for you to come back somehow.” 

“I heard about the funeral,” She said. 

“So, I guess you’re here for the same reason we are?” San looked hopeful, and she nodded. He hugged her again, a little longer than before. 

They heard someone’s throat clear, and Yeosang was standing by the entrance, with some of his assistants already lugging what looked like two suitcases. “I trust this little reunion is satisfactory? We won’t have time once we land in Japan, we won’t have time for this at all seeing as it’s quite a short flight,” He said. 

Mirae pulled away. “Yes it is,” She said. 

“My dear, our bags are to be loaded onto the plane at any moment, shall we?” Yeosang said. “Don’t worry, Yunho, I did nothing of what you are speculating to your beloved, but we must go.” 

San and Yunho picked up their bags, as they followed Mirae out of the lounge, the three of them following Yeosang down the hall that led to the doors of his plane.

The End.

~ 

From the place where the graves of Hyuk and Chanyeol were located, a bright beam of light shot down from the sky near the tree. A figure was falling down from the sky, followed by another, and three more. They were young men, dressed in blue, wearing black tactical vests, jackets, and boots. 

One of them had red hair, his left eye was black but had a white pupil in the shape of a star. 

“Where are we?” He said. 

The tallest one from the five of them, whose ear pieces were pointed, shrugged. “From the looks of this place, we must be on Earth,” He said. 

“Earth? We’re on Earth?” asked the male with brown curly hair and had mechanical wings sticking out of his back. “…Wait a minute, we’re in this solar system?” 

“I believe we are,” said the male with small horns sticking out of his helmet. He took out a device from his pocket to scan the area. “Yes, we are on Earth.” 

“Then we went in the wrong galaxy, there’s no stars here,” said the male whose tactical jacket had metal spikes. “There’s nothing of value here, Taehyun, didn’t you check the coordinates?” 

“I did, but I must have miscalculated,” Said the male with the black eye. “We should probably get back to our ship.” 

“Maybe this is a blessing in disguise,” the male with the horned helmet chimed in. “There’s probably a star here somewhere. I bet we can fetch ourselves a pretty penny, bringing back something from Earth. No one’s going to be able to know we got something from here anyway.” 

“I hope you’re right about that Yeonjun,” the tall male with pointed earpieces said. 

They took another step, and found something glinting in the ground. Yeonjun bent down to take a look at what was glinting. It was a diamond. He picked it up and showed it to them. “You were saying, Soobin?” 

Satisfied smiles played across their faces.

[1234-angelika]

Restorations

an:Hey y'all! So the weather is finally cooling down a bit here, not that I wasn't loving it, but I am finally managing to get some work done. This is the fifth installment in my Happily Ever After series for Derek. As always, hope y'all enjoy!

words:1.3 k

warnings:PDA (maybe) but other than that, I don't think there are any

summary:"We shape our homes and then our homes shape us." -Winston Churchill

masterpost|taglist|have an idea

You knew that outside of his work at the BAU, Derek had a side business restoring and flipping houses.

Since he used this business as a stress reliever and a hobby, that’s usually how he would spend his days off. When you were together, though, you would usually spend the afternoon with take-out in a movie-marathon haze. Occasionally, you would go out, but it was more important to the two of you to spend time together. You had only been to a worksite once. So, Derek promised that he would bring you out to a worksite one day, and you would work on it together.

It was five-thirty in the morning on a Wednesday, and you had just come back from your run when the phone rang. In an effort to answer the call promptly, you paid no mind to the caller ID.

“Hello?”

Derek’s voice rang through the receiver, “Hey Sunshine. That’s the hello I get?”

Giggling, you answered, “Good morning casanova.”

“Loving the new nickname sunshine.”

You smiled as you heard D’s nickname for you. “What’s up Derek? Usually you don’t call this early, especially on a day off.”

“Can you meet me later?”

“For sure. Where?”

“I’ll text you the address. Does eleven-thirty work for you?”

“Absolutely.”

“Ok. I love you Sunshine.”

“I love you too, hercules.”

You took a long shower to relax. Deciding that an hour in the shower was long enough, you finished up and made your way out to the closet. The weatherman said it would be reaching an estimated high of 87°F. This heavily influenced your choice of an outfit. You grabbed your favourite pair of shorts, a comfy black tank top and a blue flannel to wear on top. You paired your most comfortable pair of shoes with the outfit while still keeping cool in the Virginia heat. After getting dressed, you did your hair and then went on to makeup. Meandering into the kitchen, you started to think about breakfast. You gathered the components and started making it. You had just put the bread into the toaster when your phone alerted you of a text message. Picking it up, you read that it was from Derek.

Hey Sunshine.

The address is 3972 Hazelmere lane. I can’t wait to see you.

You shot a quick text back confirming that you were still meeting him and asking if he needed anything. Then, you put down your phone and continued with your breakfast. You ate your food while flipping through the latest edition of your favourite magazine. Once you finished your food, you had to make an effort to keep busy. You tidied your condo before getting started on some paperwork for your upcoming training sessions. You worked and worked until all of a sudden, the clock read eleven. You decided to just leave your place and be early for whatever you were going to do.

The drive took longer than anticipated. Instead of the fifteen minutes, you estimated, the drive actually took forty. Finally, you pulled up to the address, and confusion overcame you. At the address was a beautiful house with a lot of yard in the front and plenty of trees. You parked the car—which wasn’t done super well, parallel parking—grabbed your bag and climbed out. Looking around, you spotted Derek’s car but no sign of Derek. Taking a chance, you walked up to the front door, but when you knocked on it, it just got pushed open. You walked towards the deafening banging sounds you heard, and it was there that you found Derek. He was taking down the rotted cabinetry and dropping it on the ground. He paused when he noticed you in the doorway and climbed down the ladder.

“Hey sunshine,” he said, kissing your cheek.

“Hi Der. So, where are we?” You asked, trying not to be too apparent in your ogling of his sweaty body. As you finished your question, his body language became nervous. The same as it was when he had asked you to be his girlfriend.

“Y/N,” he said, and instantly you noted the severity of the upcoming conversation, all playfulness was gone from his voice, “you know that I do this as a side business and I did promise you that we could work on a project together. I thought it could be this one. If you’re up for it, we could make this our forever home. What do you say?”

You squealed out in happiness and launched yourself into his arms. He readily caught you, and as you hugged him, you felt his chest rumbling beneath you, an indication that he was laughing. You pulled away, and he looked at you with a brow raised.

“So I guess that’s a yes?”

“Yes!” You kissed him hard, making sure your point got across. “So Derek, where do we start?”

He grabbed a spare pair of protective glasses from the counter and handed them to you. “We start with some demolition. Don’t bang out any walls. We’re just removing cabinetry, mirrors, light fixtures and flooring.”

You nodded and walked off to what you could only guess was the living room. You made a cut into the carpet before starting to pull it up. You slowly made your way around the house, pulling the flooring up, room by room, focusing only on carpet and laminate. You were now in one of the bedrooms pulling up the last floorboard when Derek appeared in the doorway.

“Need any help gorgeous?”

Standing up, you shook your head, “nah, I finished the flooring.”

“Are you done for the day?” Derek asked you, hoping you still had the energy to do some shopping.

“Not yet. I’m still good, why?”

“I wanted to take you shopping for some materials for the house.”

“Our house,” you said, correcting him with a grin.

“Our house.” Derek said with a smile akin to your own.

The drive to the hardware store was quick. The two of you walked hand-in-hand, picking and choosing the hardware and appliances. The hardware and the appliances were easy to determine, the hardware was matte black, and the appliances were stainless steel. Both complemented the cabinetry planned for the home, white for most of the cabinets and sage green for the island cabinets. However, paint and flooring ended up being a different story. You and Derek had utterly opposing ideas, and coming to a compromise was no easy feat.

“So, what paint were you thinking?”

“Well, I was thinking we do grey on grey.”

“Are you saying grey paint AND grey flooring?”

“Yeah. It’s simple…design-wise anyways.”

The opposition to the idea was evident on your face, and he sighed before saying;

“What were you thinking Y/N?”

Taking a moment to consider his ideas, you said, “What if we went for a lighter grey for most of the walls…and instead of the grey flooring, we go for a walnut coloured vinyl instead?”

He nodded as he considered your ideas. “What do you mean most of the walls?”

“Well, I wanted to use shiplap in the entrance way but I was thinking that instead we could use it as a feature wall against the staircase.”

“Y/N, have I ever told you what a genius you are?”

“Nope,” you said, popping the ‘p.’

“Well you are an amazingly talented lovable genius,” he said before leaning over and kissing you.

The two of you were walking through the aisles of the hardware store pushing the cart, your head leaning on his bicep when he asked;

“So, what about the kitchen?”

And that’s how you spent the rest of your day off and others alike. Building your forever home together.

taglist: @multixfandomwriter @myescapefromthislife @gspenc

[details-later]

Racer! Bo Sinclair x Reader

Hey y’all so while having a small conversation through asks about Bo and the playlist i made about him this idea came to mind sooo HERE YOU GO!!!

A/N: I keep forgetting how AWFUL i am at writing endings so yeah,,,,,, ALSO IGNORE THAT THIS IS LIKE MONTHS LATE AT THIS POINT IVE BEEN V BUSY <also please send in more requests if you want i need that ✨inspiration✨ but ofc its up to yall if you do it>

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

Bright lights shined down at the race track. The thick smell of Gasoline and Cigarettes floated around. The speakers boomed with music to keep people entertained before the race. The ground almost vibrating to the beat of Thunderstruck by AC/DC. Bustling groups of mechanics for each racer rushing around to quickly patch up anything that may have happened in the time between last race and now.

Laying on the hood of his car a cigarette lazily hanging out his mouth. Bo Sinclair stood his presence instilling a tense layer across all the other Racers. Only recently having recovered from a pretty bad case of whiplash from a crash a couple races back, he stood tall commanding respect from everyone around him. When he got hurt most people in the community thought he would leave for good, yet here he was.

Bo stared off into the distance, a determined look stayed plastered to his face. Not noticing the person walking up towards him, Bo slightly flinched when a hand fell on his upper arm. The thick muscle only twitched to show it registered in his head someone touched him. Turning his head towards the offending hand thinking it was just some mechanic needing him to move.

Locking eyes with you he visibly released the tension in his shoulders. “Hey Baby what do you need?” He questioned, obviously too focused on wanting to win this race and to show hes still top dog. “I ‘on’t need anything just wanted to make sure you’re ok.” You said softly, trying to show that you are just concerned.

“Yeah ‘m fine just focused on the race.” Bo spoke while turning towards you. The look in his eyes lit a fire in yours. You knew how Bo felt when he lost. He could burn down a city with one look just by the fire in his eyes. In that moment the announcer rang through the speakers.

“Racers head to the track!” the booming voice signaled it was time to get ready. The race should be simple only 90 laps with a break after 20 and 40 laps. Bo stood up from his leaning position and leaned down to kiss you. “Love ya’ baby. I’ll see you after I win this.” His face contorted into a smirk and he winked at you. “Love you too! Good Luck!” You said with a happiness filling your heart.

Moving towards the sidelines you waited for the race to start. Anxiety and Nerves rose in your chest, fear that maybe just maybe Bo gets in another wreck. The possibility of him getting hurt again scared you, but you knew that him getting hurt was the least of your worries. The biggest concern is Bo winning this race, god knows what he would do if he lost.

The sound of a gun being shot snapped you out of your thoughts. Sounds of cars zipping past you and the smell of burnt rubber brought your gaze to Bo’s car, a slick black car with grey detailing. The sounds of the fans drowned out the loud music playing, the hype of Bo leading the pack of cars excited everyone.

In Bo’s car he just focuses on going as fast as he can. Not trying to think about anything else but the sweet taste of victory. The high that he feels when we wins will be unimaginable compared to previous wins. Just wining was amazing, but wining after everyone thought you would retire after one injury? That will be indescribable.

He just let himself slip into being one with the car. He didn’t pay attention to the others that he had already left in the dust, Instead choosing to lock his brain to the feeling of the car purr with the power it held. He had passed by you many times. Every time it blew your hair all over to the point you just put on Bo’s cap to keep everything as in place as possible.

After the first 20 laps he finally paused. Greedily taking in air the adrenaline pulsed in his veins. His cheeks flushed as blood rushed around in his ears. He looked over and made eye-contact with you. That Cocky smile of his blooming across his lips yet again.

Your heart pounded with the flustered feeing you felt. Even though you’ve been together for awhile his smiles still made you weak in the knees. He got out of the car for his first break, the maintenance crew rushing over the double check the car and to change out anything that needed to get switched. Walking over to you Bo leaned down a kissed your cheek. He closed his eyes for a moment and basked in the sunlight waiting for the small break to be over.

“Lookin’ pretty good out there hon.” You said with a smile plastered on your face. “You’re smoking the others, they can barely keep up.” Continuing with a small chuckle. “Yeah, Sweetheart? Well lets hope it stays that way.” Bo said, his smirk fading to a sincere small grin. At that moment of just staring at each other in complete love and adoration the Speakers crackled.

“Racers please start heading back into your cars.” The speakers boomed with the sound of the announcers energetic voice. Bo looked back over at you and leaned in again smearing a kiss across your forehead. Soon he was back in his car his mindset swiftly shifting from relaxed to focus again.

Soon enough the rest of the race zipped by. Bo continued his demolition of the other racers. His focused and determined mindset pushing him passed the finish line and get the first place he deserved. When he was announced as the winner he quickly turned and dipped you into a harsh yet loving kiss.

Pulling you back up, you smiled at him. “I knew you’d win baby. Ain’t none of them other racers as good as you.”

[the-night-writer1]

Evil MK Spicynoodles, with one of them on a call with Red's parents/Wukong and the other having fun trying to distract them with kisses?

It was a Thursday afternoon as Mk and Red son laid in bed watching TV. It was a day off for both of them and they just wanted to enjoy eachother's company.

They were watching some demolition derby when Red's phone rang. It was his parents ringtone so Mk groaned as he put his face in red's chest.

Red grabbed his phone while rubbing his brow and answered," Hello?"

"Red son fix that tone of your's" the demon bull king said a bit annoyed at his son's exasperated tone," I called to see if you could come home today to plan with me and your mother."

"father I-" Red started to say before Xiaotain kissed his chest then gave him a grin. Oh boy he was going to struggle with this call, he cleared his throat and finished his sentence," I am rather sick today"

"Sick? Then wouldn't you want your mother's soup to make you well?" The king asked as he raised a brow in confusion. Red didn't sound sick? Why would his son lie about their health?

"well I-" Red tried to respond calmly but mk had moved to his sensitive neck so his voice started to waver as he continued,"I would not want to get either of you stick"

" son are you alright?" The king asked now even more concerned.

"stop that I'm on the phone" Red said as he moved the phone away from his ear for a moment. Having no idea his father heard that. Bull king was surprised. His son possibly had a partner who they didn't know about? Reminded him of his youth. He chuckled softly his son was like him after all.

"Son you could have said you were spending the day with your partner." The bull king said softly as he thought as he spotted his wife walk in.

"I -mfh- I appreciate it father goodbye"

"you have fun but be careful" The bull king said as he hung up. He chuckled softly as he turned to his wife," Seems our son has found someone who likes to tease my dear."

"oh my goodness. Our boy may have found his partner! Absolutely wonderful." His wife said cheerfully.

-----

"you are in so much trouble!" Red son said as he tossed his phone aside and pinned Mk to the bed.

"aw is Cherrybomb going punish me for giving him kisses" Xiaotain said looking up Red innocently.

"yes I certainly am" Red son said with a grin.

[valaks]

It was 5 o clock and Tom had escaped the mess hall for the third night in a row. He probably had one more before Jag and Lynx force fed him. He just couldn’t bring himself to after...his thoughts trailed off as a helicopter thundered towards them. It was clearly American from the insignia on the side but no one made any defensive moves so it must be approved. Just as it touched down a single man jumped out, holding a duffel and a wooden case tight to his chest. He motioned something to the pilots who waved and took back to the air as the man scrambled away from the downblast. Sand swirled around him, obscuring him for small periods before he was gone, likely to the commander’s hut. He shrugged off the occurrence, settling back on the crate under the canopy that he had taken as respite from his overbearing teammates and the rest of the mass of sweaty, irritated men stuck in the desert with him.

He had just started to drift off when he heard the rattle of glass. The stranger from earlier had sunk his crate into the sand and sat staring out at the base with him. He seemed familiar but Tom couldn’t quite recognize it.

His companion rooted around in the duffle bag and extracted a bottle. He expected the man to pop it open and take a drink but instead it was held out for him. Tom used it as an excuse to study him - tan skin, dark black hair and bright hazel eyes. Maybe a local? No, he didn’t have a beard so someone from the government but why would they be in an American helicopter in a British base?

For his part the man didn’t seem bothered at his examination waiting for recognition but when none came smiled “Heard you had your first kill” Alex. Of course it was Alex.

“Please tell me you didn’t come all this way to try and talk me down.”

“I didn’t, I have a mission but even if I did I would not be here to talk.”

“No sage advice from ‘6s best killer?” Tom was being cruel. Alex had a job to do at the cottage and had made sure his team was safe. Others had not been so lucky from what he heard. He could probably attribute his attitude to his dark mood after…he shut the thought off quickly

“No advice.” Alex’s answer was firm “not unless you want it. I’m not here to talk, Tom, I’m here to listen.”

“Stag” he corrected instinctively

Alex nodded back “then Orion”

Tom took the hint and opened the bottle, taking small sips of whiskey straight out of it. It was the good stuff, not the cheap slag he shared with Lynx after patrol. He offered it to Alex who held up his hand in the universal symbol for ‘pass’

“Don't drink?”

“Only to maintain cover and even then I prefer vodka. I blame Gregorovich.”

They fell into silence, Alex content to let Tom handle the course of conversation. After half a week of everyone throwing their thoughts and perceptions at him it was refreshing.

“What was it like? Your first kill?”

Alex seemed to consider this “On accident or on purpose?”

“Does it matter?”

“Quite a bit, the accident one is funny in a dark kind of way if that helps make up your mind.”

“Let’s start there.”

“It was my first mission. The man I was up against kept a Portuguese man of war in a glass tank behind his desk. When my cover was blown I ended up in the tank. Thankfully, our gadget master had given me a cream that dissolved metal cleverly hidden in a tube of zit cream. I destroyed the girders holding it together. His assistant was too close when it came down and the man o’ war landed on top of her. I’m pretty sure it killed her but she was still twitching when I left to finish the mission.”

“Jesus, Orion, what other shit have you been in?”

“Animal wise? Piranhas, crocodiles, sharks, gorillas, tigers, snakes, rats, scorpions, of course.”

Tom rolled his eyes “Revenge?”

“Technically, it was while I was still working for them. One of the board members had a prior relationship with my father. She tried to kill me and the scorpions were supposed to be a message.”

“What happened?”

“Yassen made me hunt her down and kill her and her right hand. With scorpions.”

“Of course” Tom supplied and they shared a wry smile “What about your first kill, on purpose?”

Alex shot him a sidelong glance “You sure you want to hear? It’s not going to make you feel any better.”

“Can’t get any worse”

“Alright” he sighed “I was apprenticed under Dr. Three he was the world’s foremost authority in torture and information extraction.”

“What happened to him?”

Alex looked up sharply “I killed him” then paused “he wasn’t my first kill, though. We were doing live dissections in the lab. My subject was particularly vocal. He kept begging, pleading, screaming. Yassen had me on a sleep deprivation schedule so that I would break down and finally kill. I don’t know specifically what brought it on but after 3 days I finally slit his throat. Blood went everywhere. I was soaked in it. The good doctor congratulated me and pointed out easier, cleaner ways I could have ended it then made me finish the exercise before I could clean up.”

“That’s how they taught you to kill”

“That’s how they taught me to be a killer. I learned the art of killing in the shooting ranges or the sparring mats or the botany and demolitions classrooms. I excelled in the art of killing - top of my class. It was the act of the kill that I struggled with - Yassen fixed that defect. Painfully.

“So they made you kill prisoners?”

“That’s how it started.” Alex shrugged “all in all the process from ‘I’ll never kill’ to shooting a man point blank in cold blood without hesitation lasted 6 months and I pretty much killed once a day toward the end.”

They sat in silence as Tom turned that over in his mind. 14 or 15 and forced to kill everyday. Fuck. Tom could barely handle killing to save a teammate. Alex held his hand out and Tom obliged, Alex deserved a drink after talking about that, after living through that. His own story was a shade by comparison but he felt like he should share something.

“We were pinned down in the heart of town. Backup had gotten hit by an IED around the same time the insurgents had blocked off our inward route with their own barricade. To get out we had to go back and who knows what they had set up. The streets are narrow, only one Humvee at a time, not enough room to turn around. So to extricate we blew the corner off the apartment or shop or whatever it was. The owner came out and Boar our comm tried talking with him, and things were beginning to escalate. The man was angry and pulled a gun. I shot without thinking. His kids were right there hiding in the stairwell. I can still see them.” He finished softly.

Alex didn’t say anything just passed the bottle back over. They sat in silence as the desert sun set. Finally, Tom broke it. “What’s your advice, then? Everyone else’s given me some.”

“Are you sure you want it?”

“I wouldn’t have asked if I didn’t”

Alex nodded with a small smile “You won’t get over it but don’t let it consume you. You’ll feel it for the rest of your life. If you’re lucky you’ll live long enough to add others. The fact that you regret it makes you human. Don’t lose that.”

“Have you lost that?”

Alex didn’t respond just gestured for the bottle and Tom handed it over without another word.

[dani-the-mark]

AEW All Out 2021 Review

AKA The PPV that turned my brain to scrambled eggs

Miro vs Eddie Kingston

We start off with “Redeem Deez Nuts”. Beautiful. This match was good, but nothing to what the rest of the card would bring. It is a little sad now that I say that, but I liked how it eased everyone in. I’m sure this is not the end of this feud.

Satoshi Kojima vs John Moxley

Jon is on his bullshit here and made it turn very brutal very quickly. Overall, this was a solid match and a good intro to Kojima for the uninitiated. At the time I thought it could have afforded to be a little longer, but with no stakes and with what’s to come I understand.

We also get our first debut of the night, Minoru Suzuki. Moxley preceded to have a “punch fest” Suzuki, which was a little silly but exciting.

Britt Baker vs Kris Statlander

I feel that this match fit in a comfortable space, it didn’t need to be anything special. That being said, it had great moments. First, Britt breaking the fourth wall was great. Then the powerbomb scissor kick combination from Kris. Orange cracking, and by extension Britt cracking. All great. They were slightly clunky going into the finish, but I can excuse that because of how much energy they were putting in

Lucha Bros vs Young Bucks

WHAT AN INTRO FOR THE LUCHA BROS. I feel that was the start of an atmosphere that would carry the rest of the night. There were “Zero Miedo” chants before it even started. Right out of the gate, the Bucks tried to escape, which began them being overly cocky throughout the rest of the match. Which isn’t a surprise but still. This is also apparent when the Bucks attempted to demask the brothers, and from there the match quickly went hardcore. A shoe covered in thumbtacks can apparently produce a lot of blood.

Overall, this was the match of the night and the Lucha Bros deserve this title run for as long as possible.

21-woman Casino Battle Royale

I can’t breathe at this point, so much has already happened. Here we got a mild rest, with good feud references, Nyla Rose on her usual demolition path, and a hint of Diamante vs Swole. Then, we got Ruby Soho. Which is awesome!

But, I don’t think she should have won. Last eliminated would have been fine, but Rosa deserved a win here. I’m also just not a big fan of people getting such high-stakes wins on a debut. I will admit, the back and forth on the ring edge was very entertaining. Basically, good ending with the wrong winner.

MJF vs Chris Jericho

Do you ever just look at the TV screen and drool? Because that’s what I did. I was white-knuckling the whole way. Jericho just seemed to be having fun, and I’m happy for him. These two were going to put on a banger, we knew this going in, but the stakes did something great here. Some standout moves: MJF’s troll intro referencing Y2J, the partition tossed into MJF’s head, Jericho’s lionsault, and the false finish. Honestly, I didn’t like the false finish, but MJF is a master heel and the look on his face when they reversed the decision was WORTH IT. As was getting to see him tap.

Darby Allen vs CM Punk

This match came prepackaged with an impeccable atmosphere. You could go back and just listen to the chants and know the importance of this match. Overall, the moves were jumpy and clever. I could tell Darby was leading sometimes, but Punk was following well and clearly, has been ready for this. Case and point, Darby getting LAUNCHED out of the ring, which was probably my favorite moment. Also, go to sleep must have felt good for Punk. I need to watch old Punk matches now

QT Marshall vs Paul Wight

Okay, it’s nap time! But, we got to watch Paul beat people up for a bit, which was nice.

Kenny Omega vs. Christian Cage

If you had told me last year this match was happening I would not believe you. But, I’m so glad it’s true. Kenny being Kenny, with his slipperiness and cotton candy douche bag right behind him at every turn. One minute here comes a table, then there goes the table. Quite frankly, there were a surprising amount of table spots and added needed energy after everything that had already happened on the show. It also felt like a touch of old school coming out from Christian’s TLC days. Speaking of Christian, he is nothing if not fearless and seemed to go feral towards the end of the match. The high-angle cloverleaf looked genuinely painful BECAUSE it was rushed and sloppy. Like he was running out of time and doing everything possible. Then, “Don’t do this”.

Gallows and Anderson. Didn’t like them being here, so we’re going to move on

A beautiful one-winged angel over the top rope, then the match is over.

There were 20 minutes. I was braced for impact. The first words out of my mouth when the bell rang was “If I hear Flight of the Valkyries, I will cry.” But no, it was the boyfriend of one of my favorite wrestlers and former half of the Big Top Tag Team Champions. Adam Cole came home. Frankly, I thought this was better. Adam Cole deserved to be here.

Then, Flight of the Valkyries actually did hit, and suddenly I was on the floor. I’m not even joking. I hit the floor, head in hands. Bryan Danielson. I’m still sitting here in a daze over this.

The raw emotion tonight, the environment AEW has cultivated, has lead to this.

Bravo, AEW. Now keep cultivating it. We have even higher expectations now.

Thank you, goodnight.

[star-wars-scribbles-ff]

Where I Belong | Chapter 1 | Prologue

Story Summary: The only family she’d ever known gave her a name; back when she belonged to something. But when that family is lost, she leaves it all behind. When destiny drops her in the last place she ever wanted to be, she has to earn back the trust and respect of the Republic that left her to die. Caught between the Jedi and the Grand Army of the Republic, she'll discover where she belongs.

Fandom: Star Wars | Galaxy Far Far Away

Rating: T+

Story Genre/Warnings: action/adventure/found family | war violence, death, torture, discrimination, angst, fluff, [more]

Words: 13,623

Disclaimer: Majority of properties within this fanfic are owned by Lucasfilm/Disney. My OCs, as well as a few other things within this fanfic are of my own creation. Republic Cog header made by me :) 

CHAPTER NOTE: Haha I know you’re having a hard time getting past that terrifying word count above if you haven’t already said ‘to hell with this’ and kept scrolling, but I like writing long chapters because I don’t update as frequently as other writers so I wanna provide some good stuff to keep readers busy while they wait... Hope that’s alright? (All chapters aren’t that long; usually around 5k. Don’t worry there’s just a lot to unpack in this first chapter) If you’re still here I hope you enjoy :)

Masterlist | Next Chapter | Chapter Art & Map | Echo & Trauma Squad

“We’ve entered the atmosphere, Sergeant. You boys are clear to get ready.”

Pressing the button connected to the cockpit via a control panel on the wall, CC-4811, Sergeant Mash, went to respond. 

“Roger that. Drop us 3 klicks south of RV point Axe.”

“Will do, sir.” 

Lowering his hand, Mash turned, gaze finding his team doing a last minute equipment check before their coming drop into hostile territory. It was helmets on at 100 klicks, they still had another minute or so. 

“Alright, listen up.” Mash held up a datapad, tapping briskly on the screen, a holo of the location of interest shown up into the semi-lit shuttle bay. “Intelligence spotted a Separatist fleet five rotations ago within the Duluur sector. They lingered for one standard Coruscant rotation above Devaron before departing from this sector. It is unknown whether hostiles have taken RV point Bullseye.”

“Why couldn’t we get the debrief on Kamino?” CC-4999, or as they called him, Nines muttered. The squad member was finishing the assemblement of his Deece with a sniper attachment.

“This is a priority mission,” Mash continued. “Retaking Bullseye needs to be done quickly, quietly, and efficiently. Minimal destruction which means no rockets, detonators, or explosives of any kind, hence our silent entry - sorry Hawk.” The smidgen of sympathy in Mash’s voice for their demolition man causes CC-4998, Hawk, to give a small jut of his chin and a twitch of a smile. “The Republic seeks to turn this Temple into a staging ground for Surveillance Operations. Keeping Bullseye standing is top priority; sweep the grounds and wipe out any Separatist forces that may have taken it; preferably all in under a 12 hour window.”

“100 klicks out,” The pilot’s voice came over the shuttle’s com systems.

Shutting off the datapad, Mash tossed it to one of the shuttle seats lining the bay wall before grabbing his helmet. The rest of his squad did the same as they all put their helmets on.

“Didn’t really answer the question, Sarg.” Nines uttered while rolling his shoulders, the action causing the armored plates to clunk against one another.

“Skipper said the Jedi were touchy about it, Nines.” 

The kid was a bit of a hot shot but his skill with a rifle more than made up for the snarky attitude.

“They give us confidential assignments for a reason. They want this done quickly and quietly without word getting out.”

The sniper tipped his trigger and middle finger around in a salute that would have most likely made their training sergeant fume at the lack of maturity before turning towards Hawk.

“Bit strange they revived us so quickly.” CC-4803, Corporal Razor stepped up next to Mash. “From what Skipper told me- most get a couple months before they’re pulled for assignment again.” 

Like the rest of their kind, they were kept in stasis when not on assignment. Infantry weren’t because they dealt with the bulk of the war. 

“Personally I don’t mind - I guess it’s gotta mean we’re doing something right if they keep pulling us for jobs,” Razor added. 

Their advisor on Kamino, Skipper, acted as their go-to man during missions. He’d feed them intel on the ground and organize quick and dirty drops and extractions if the need arose. 

“Trying not to think about it, ner vod (my brother/comprade).” Mash said, the mando’a slipping through his mouth with ease. It wasn’t something other clones knew… More of a perk from their branch of the GAR. If you were lucky, your training sergeant may have taught you the Mandalorian language. The clone flash training made it stick too, so they were fairly fluent. 

Like the rest of their kind, they were kept in stasis when not on assignment. Infantry weren’t because they dealt with the bulk of the war. 

Not long after the Battle of Geonosis, their squad, Echo squad, was formed. It was created in the wake of each of their losses. Mash had lost all his men, his brothers, and so had Razor who had been Sergeant of his own men. Nines and Hawk together lost their Corporal and Sergeant. Higher ups had pushed them all together for a follow up assignment shortly after Geonosis and they had to get to know each other on the ground the hard way. 

Since then they’d done a few jobs here and there. They all had the same training sergeant so while there was a small grimmer of familiarity, they were still strangers to each other. It took some getting used to, but things had since smoothed out. 

“Sounds like this assignment really is priority. For the Jedi at least. Whatever Jedi was occupying the Temple previously was recalled to Coruscant. It didn’t take long for the Separatists to get word of the outpost’s vacancy it seems.”

“I’ll say,” Razor chuckled beneath his helmet before finishing the tie on his rappelling gear. They’d be dropping into the dense jungle soon. “From what I hear, intelligence still has holes in it. Intel is leaked more often than it isn’t, gotta wonder you know?”

Checking the knot of his rappelling gear a final time, Mash hesitated to respond to Razor’s comment. Razor had always been one for the gossip regarding the Republic’s works. Sometimes that curiosity was useful, but more often than not Mash wished his brother were more discreet.

Word had gotten around, but since the Republic were officially handed control of the army, they’d begun making changes. Their branch of the GAR was getting quite the makeover, however whether the changes were doing more harm than good was still up for debate. Clone Advisors was just one change that had been temporary, but had since stuck around. Certain Clone Officers without fieldwork would act as advisors or middlemen to non-Clone Republic Officers, like the Jedi, still getting a handle on how to efficiently induct the different clones into the conflicts. 

It was a surprise to the Clones when the Jedi, the legendary warriors they’d been told of all their lives, didn’t exactly meet textbook expectations.

It wasn’t their place to ponder the Jedi abilities as Military Leaders, but their corner of the GAR was quickly developing opinions, a ship Mash was hesitant to board. 

“You implying its a higher ups problem?” Mash asked.

“Not necessarily,” Razor responded. “Just something to think about is all. Although, I know you prefer not to.” 

He’d known Razor long before they’d been thrown together in a squad. He’d met him several times on the simulation battlefields during training, and he knew him well enough to detect the humor laced through his voice to understand when he was pulling his leg. 

“Stay focused, vod.” Mash muttered, thankful he could hide his own grin as a chuckle from Razor radiated through helmet comms.

“Coming in, we’ll be over the drop zone in 30 seconds.”

The turbulence picked up in the shuttle as they approached their destination and all members of the squad made their way towards the back of the shuttle bay.

Hawk hit the button for the shuttle’s ramp on the wall control panel and soon enough the roar of the ship's engines took over, causing the sound dampeners in their helmets to kick in.

The shuttle trembled as the pilots pulled up on the controls and the ship stalled above an area of jungle which was where their assignment was to begin.

“Go go go,” Mash ushered each of his men out before going himself. One hand on the rappelling line and the other holding his Deece at the ready, Mash kept his eyes on his comrades heading down the 60 or so meter distance passed a layer of fog into the darkness of the Devaronian jungle. 

Large vines as thick as the bay of the shuttle covered the planet as far as Mash could see, even through his helmet display. Data on the planet mentioned the unique flora which they would encounter; the vines breached the landscape like borrowing Rishi eels, knotted and intertwined together creating a blanket covering the terrain. 

Watching as each of his squad hit the ground, Mash followed as they did in stripping themselves of their rappelling gear as it zipped back up into the shuttle.

Switching comm frequencies, Mash looked up to the hovering shuttle around 100 meters about them. 

“We’re clear, pilot.” 

“Roger that sir, have fun down there,” The ramp of the shuttle began to close before it headed off. 

The jungle had fallen quiet once the ship was out of range, and soon enough, the chirping and rustling of native fauna began to grow in the shuttle’s absence. Looking around the terrain, Mash was quick to notice how the ground under the vine canopy was rather barren aside from sparse foliage in the form of smaller vine systems and shrub-like plants. They were going in under the impression that there would be greater amounts of foliage; it would complicate matters for reconnaissance and stealth-based action going forward. 

It was the first bump in the road, but it certainly wouldn’t be the last. Improvisation; its what they trained for in situations like this.

In a series of blinks, Mash pulled up specs on the surrounding landscape, including humidity levels. They were high enough. Readings indicated it had rained recently.

“Start dirtying up the armor. Foliage won’t provide enough cover so we’ll need to-”

An aggravated grunt caused Mash to turn, finding Nines with his hands braced on his lower back as he craned into a stretch, his Deece in the hands of Hawk.

“They changed this di'kutla (useless/stupid) armor again, didn’t they.” He grunted. 

“The Manual outlined the upgrades,” Hawk reminded his brother with a slight tilt of his helmet, only to receive a mild clock on the shoulder plate from Nines as he got his footing back.

“Who the hell has time for that, do I look like I got time for that?”

“Cut the chatter,” The statement came out firm, although the mild distraction of the hostile territory around them softened his words. “This is hostile territory, so let’s shift it,” Mash gestured forward with his Deece. 

“Dirty up.” Razor shrugged, emphasizing on the Sergeant’s first order before popping off in one direction to start camouflaging his armor. 

Mash watched as Nines lingered on their Corporal walking away before he audibly grumbled, going off in a somewhat similar direction with Hawk.

“I long for the day when I can put this armor to actual use.”

“And how would you go about doing that, Nines?” Hawk asked.

“By using it how it was meant to be used- urban warfare, close quarters… actual fire fights. Not writhing around on a dust ball like Geonosis or making mud angels on this heap.”

The comment caused Hawk to openly laugh, something that if Mash was being honest, wasn’t customary of his younger comprade; however he had to admit it pleased him. He’d always been less of a talker than Nines; more hesitant to accept the new squad; whether it was because of the fate of their old one, or maybe who he had ended up with, Mash wasn’t certain. 

“Keep your trash talk on internal comms, Nines.” Razor reiterated the words as if he had done so multiple times already, which he most likely had.

“Trash talk… Kebbur haar haat (try the truth).” Nines grumbled, before throwing a glob of mud onto his thigh plating, coating one leg in the darkly colored mud.

The kid was all talk. As soon as a superior was around he would 180 and they’d be none the wiser.

Another minute passed before the squad’s signature white armor with red and orange accents were covered helmet to boots in Devaronian mud. The humidity would prove troublesome as they’d need to reapply the camouflage again within the hour.

Exchanging a couple of nods with the men, Mash made a final glance exchange with Razor.

“We’re ready,” The Corporal gave him a nod.

“Then let’s move out.”

A couple hours had passed, and the position of Devaron’s two moons had since shifted across the night sky; they could be seen in the distance adjacent to RV point Bullseye’s structure. The thick layer of fog had been ever present since their arrival, and while it didn’t completely inhibit their line of sight, it was keeping them on their toes.

Spotting subtle obstruction on the ground ahead, Mash held up a fist before gesturing for the men to move forward to a position of cover cautiously.

The Sergeant came to a stop at a large vine almost a meter thick. He kept his back to it as Hawk stopped behind him. 

“I’ve got eyes on the South road.” Nines came to a stop a few meters to their 3 o’clock, kneeling down on one leg before resting his rifle over a low vine breaching the ground, leaning in to look through the scope. 

The Temple had four roads that branched out in each direction, the primary Northern and Southern Roads drew an imaginary line through RV point Bullseye while the secondary Western and Eastern roads connected the courtyards and other smaller facilities to the overall structure. 

“It’s called a promenade, not a road.” Razor muttered as he came to a stop beside the sniper, blaster raised and alert as he observed the surrounding area.

“Yeah I know, the HUD said that, but what the hell is the difference- its a road.” Nines grunted. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m happy to hear they’ve updated the HUD’s terminology index on architecture. I can’t think of more vital information to the mission.” The cock of Nines’ helmet only enhanced the sarcasm leaking from his filtered voice as he glanced up at their Corporal. “Looks clear up ahead.”

“No droids?” Mash questioned.

“Doesn’t look like it, Sarg. Zero movement.” Nines responded, gaze back through the scope.

From his crouched position on the ground, Hawk looked up at the Sergeant for a brief moment before glancing towards Razor. 

Going in they’d be simultaneously at an advantage and disadvantage. The enemy had the high ground and not to mention the location in question that needed to be retaken, but the squad had the element of surprise. 

“Alright. Let’s start moving in. Stay sharp and switch to internal comms,” Mash instructed and with a couple of hand gestures, fleshed out their movements going forward.

Like the vigorously tested training exercises on Kamino, the squad began to move in on the target location quickly and quietly. Using the native flora to their cover advantage, the small group made their way up to the Temple road before branching off to the structure’s right side. They’d stay between the Eastern and Southern roads in order to get as close to RV point Bullseye as possible without leaving the cover that the Devaronian vines provided. Once close enough, they could make their way across the courtyard and to the Temple. From there execution of the mission would change. How, was something Mash didn’t know yet.

Loosely following the road’s edge closer and closer to the Temple which was growing up into the sky the further they traveled, Echo Squad finally came to the wall of the courtyard, an area that surrounded the Temple. The wall was just under two meters; a quick scale. 

Stepping up to the wall, Nines lowered his rifle, resting its barrel on the wall before perusing the open and exposed ground ahead. 

“No visuals. All quiet.”

“I’m not liking this,” Razor muttered, tilting his body only slightly towards the Sergeant. “Its sloppy. Even for the droids.”

“Maybe we just came at a bad time,” Nines offered, continuing to scope out the area. “Caf break or… battery recharge- quiet time. What’d droids have these days?” 

“Let’s give it another minute.” Mash decided, craning to look up towards the main Temple structure which was significantly larger than its sibling tower. “We’ll move in if we don’t get-”

“Wait, I’ve got a visual.” 

Mash jerked his head to the right to see where Nines’ scope was aligned, towards the smaller of the two towers. The shutter and chung of metal clanking together in a uniform manner was a sound that had since become familiar to them. 

On Kamino they trained against other clone squads, training staff, and simulation targets. The droids which were now being used by the Separatists weren’t entirely unfamiliar, but it was a somewhat impersonal enemy nonetheless. The droids were designed to overwhelm, something that proved effective against the Republic at Geonosis, especially their branch of the Grand Army of the Republic. 

Part of the reason missions concerning their branch of the GAR were no longer to overlap with Infantry (unless under special circumstances) was because the Jedi thankfully came to their senses on that account. Their branch lost half of their entire force at Geonosis. Their first battle and their kind were cut in half… It unsettled Mash to the point where he preferred to not think about it, but his head constantly reminded him that those nerves wouldn’t help whether he ignored them or not. The Jedi, while they may not have been what they’d expected, were warriors and leaders nonetheless and they’d been taught all their lives that they’d been created to help the Jedi. Things were seemingly off to a rocky start but they’d level out. It seemed they already were, which Mash was thankfully for. He hadn’t worked directly with a Jedi yet, but when the day came he hoped they’d be up to the task of using him and his men to the best of their ability.

The enemy force finally emerged from around the farthest tower, revealing a squad of eight B1 battle droids. The standard, not a problem. However whatever forces may wait within the Temple or around the perimeter was the standing issue. If they had more time, Mash would have ordered a sweep of the perimeter to be safe. But they didn’t have that luxury. Looks like they’d be doing a hard contact entry, sweeping room to room and floor to floor until the entire structure was clear. 

“Well you wanted close quarter combat, ner vod.” Mash finally stated, watching alongside his squad as the droid squad went about their patrol of the Temple grounds. “We’ll eliminate this squad first.”

“Soft entry?” Hawk questioned.

“We’ll have to improvise on that front. Debrief mentioned a security system in the Temple. Nothing the droids can figure out, apparently its more of a force user problem, but with the cams they’ll most likely see us coming. We’ll have to hit quick enough to have the advantage inside.”

“What’d you call that, a medium entry, sir?” Nines chuckled, still zoning in on the droids.

“Call it what you want, Nines.” Mash nodded with minor amusement before giving his rifle one last check just to be safe. 

“I’ve got a second droid squad coming in, 2 o’clock off the Eastern road… Looks like it might be a rotation change.” 

“Watch em, Nines.”

“Roger that Sarg,”

“Razor?” Mash turned his attention to the Corporal. 

They always threw ideas off of each other. While Mash was officially in charge, he preferred to keep the title as loose as possible. Razor used to be Sergeant of his old squad, and was demoted to Corporal when transferred to Echo Squad. While they had differing ways of handling situations, Mash understood the wisdom in getting a second opinion. 

An audible sigh came through the Corporal's helmet as Razor looked up at the structure. 

“No easy way we’re getting in there without almost immediate detection. Without the use of explosives or detonators-” The nod he gave was decisive, his voice level and collected. “Looks like we gotta do this t-”

The fading of clanking metal from the droids was quickly and suddenly overpowered by the rumble of a familiar sound.

Looking up through the vine canopy, the members of Echo Squad are met with the image of a Republic Nu-class Shuttle swooping in over RV point Bullseye.

“No,” Mash muttered. “No no no- what the hell are they doing!?” 

“You get anything over comms? Change of plans?”

“No,” Mash growled through grit teeth before quickly swinging a leg up, getting over the wall before gesturing for the squad to follow.

The uninvited guest had already caught the attention of the two squads of B1s as they all began to open fire on the vessel. The fire would do little against the shuttle’s shields. 

As Echo Squad members quickly finish entering the courtyard, the Attack Shuttle’s ramp lowers and four similarly dressed troopers begin rappelling down to the adjacent courtyard.

“I don’t believe this-” Mash snapped before gesturing for the squad to move out and join the fire fight on the other side of the Temple grounds around fifty meters away. 

“There go our medium entry plans!” Nines laughed over the growing sound of blaster fire as they ran to join the conflict.

“Not the time, kid!” Mash barked. 

As they entered the Eastern courtyard that wrapped around the structure, a couple more droid squads came into view. The other Squad of clones that had arrived were keeping a relatively loose formation as they took out the enemy force, for their kind it looked pretty sloppy; or at least not Echo Squad’s style.

Mash knew his squad was on him, and he didn’t have to remind them to keep it tight. They’d cover the enemy force closer to Bullseye and leave the straggling droids to the newcomers. 

B1 Battle Droids had a rather standard targeting system; as they clunked along on a relatively straight path, they’d fire their blasters off in even intervals. They were a fairly easy nuisance to deal with on assignment. When high grades of Separatist droids joined in, and their numbers increased tenfold, that’s when their years of training met their match.

As they made their way across the courtyard and towards danger, Mash got that liquid feeling in his lower body, like his legs would give out and he felt ten times heavier running towards the firefight, he knew that feeling would always disappear as quickly as it appeared. As his training Sergeant would say: It’s your forebrain shutting down; a fear reflex. He wondered if his brothers ever felt the same; that trickle of fear. He didn’t doubt it. You’d have to be a fool not to to some extent.

As soon as their presence was made known, and the droids turned their attention to the second squad of troopers approaching, the weight was lifted from Mash’s body and the noise in his head quieted. Time to get to work.

The sound of blaster bolts firing off rang loudly into the silence of the surrounding jungle. Picking off the droids one by one, Echo Squad drew further out into the courtyard, near where the newly arrived squad was. 

The last couple shots came from Hawk as he took down a few straggling droids before the men exchanged a couple of quick glances. The spike of adrenaline that one got during the fight was almost euphoric; relaxing when a brief moment of silence came during the action. 

That feeling was cut short when Mash and Razor turned in time to see the Sergeant of the other clone squad about to throw a detonator at another squad of droids approaching from the Eastern road, most likely coming back from another patrol.

“Hey!” Mash barked before running over. 

By the time the Echo Squad leader was within fifty yards of the other squad, the small explosive had detonated; dirt, droid parts, and some rubble from the road shot up into the air. 

“Haar'chak (Damn it).” Hawk muttered, exchanging a brief look with Nines before going after their Sergeant. 

“Are you insane?!” 

The shouting caused the members of the other squad to draw their attention back, and eventually the Sergeant turned as well. 

“Who the hell are these guys-” The Sergeant muttered, patting the shoulder plate of one of his men before continuing towards Mash. “Can I help point you back in the direction of whatever mud pit you all crawled out of?” The sarcasm was strong in his voice as he looked over Echo Squad. To be fair they were all completely caked in the Devaronian mud.

“Sarg-” Razor tried to subtly stop his brother from getting physical but Mash was already close enough to shove the other Sergeant backwards a couple of steps. “Udesii, vod! (take it easy/calm down, brother!)” 

“Under what authority do you think you can just waltz in here an-”

“Authority? Listen here vod,” The armored clone points towards Mash. “I’ve got orders to secure that building back there, so unless you’re here to sit back and run recon while covered in that osik (feces/dung) I suggest you back off and let us take it from here.” The other Sergeant seemed all too eager to start smack talking and it took what was left of Mash’s self control to not get any more physical. Ten years of systematic, precise, orderly training, and as soon as the Republic is given control of the military, everyone seemingly falls off the rails. 

“I don’t know what kind of information you’re running on, but our orders came directly from the Jedi Temple that we were to scout this location for enemy activity and retake the building with minimal sustained damage.” Mash made clear. “It is obvious that you did not receive the debrief.” 

Taking a step forward, the other Sergeant came within inches of the Echo leader’s helmet with his own.

“What are you implying?”

 “Read between the lines.”

“I’m warning you now, vod. Ne shab'rud'niÖ (Don’t mess with me).”

“Bax, come on, vod.”

Razor inched his way between the two Sergeants as the other squad member that had spoken up tried to coax his Sergeant into taking a step backwards. 

“Regardless of who should or shouldn't be here- the objective appears to be the same.” Razor made clear, his hand residing on the breastplate of his Sergeant, his other held out towards the other Sergeant who was being held back by who now appeared to be their squad’s Corporal. The tension could've been cut with a vibroblade in that moment.

Razor knew Mash preferred to work alone; at least he preferred their squad working alone. If it was one thing the man hated, it was the liability of variables he couldn’t control - other people potentially ruining his way of doing things. Whether it be Infantry clones, Jedi, or other squads like them, Mash preferred the assignments where it was just their squad, and their squad alone. 

“Taking Bullseye is priority.”

“Taking what?” The other Sergeant muttered. His posture had since relaxed but it was clear he was ticked off and eager to get a move on. 

“RV point Bullseye.” Mash said. It sounded like he spit the statement out through his teeth. 

“...You mean the Tower?” The other Sergeant deadpanned. 

Silence followed and Razor exchanged a small glance with the other presumed Corporal. 

“I’m Corporal fifty-one-thirty-four… 34.” The Corporal stated, lowering his hand from his Sergeant’s breastplate. It was common to just use the last two numbers. Your name was almost always kept within your squad group, and maybe with your training sergeant unless you were comfortable sharing it. It wasn’t the time to exchange such personal details even if the atmosphere wasn’t so tense. “This is fifty-seven-eighty-seven and five-two-sixty.” The Corporal, 34, pointed to the other two men part of their squad. 

The one identified as 87 appeared to be their tech man, while 60 appeared to be carrying the demolitions ordnance. 

34 gave his Sergeant the smallest nudge with his shoulder and the man seemed to begrudgingly think over his options before his shoulders lowered a fraction.

“Sergeant five-one-eighteen.” He muttered.

“I’m Corporal four-eight-oh-three,” Razor gestured to himself. “This is forty-nine-ninety-eight and forty-nine-ninety-nine.” Pointing the two out, Razor watched as Nines gave the other squad a jut of his helmet, a sort of nod, and Hawk dipped his helmet down in acknowledgement.

Razor only had to turn a fraction towards Mash for his brother to know he would have to speak up.

“Sergeant four-eight-eleven.” His voice was tight, the remnants of his frustration still hung heavy.

“Now that that’s out of the way, would you all mind moving so we can get to work?” Sergeant 18 gestures somewhat dramatically with his blaster in one hand and a cock of his helmet, swinging the barrel of the blaster with smooth precision to the side.

The silence of the courtyard was growing increasingly harder to ignore, no doubt more droids were on their way from within the Temple walls.

“Sarg-” Corporal 34 started to speak

“We got here first, I suggest you step aside and let us take it from here.” 

“I’ve been dragging my men through the mud of that jungle for five hours- We were on the ground working this mission before you dropped in on the front karking door-”

“I don't give a mott's backside if you’ve been stuck here for weeks I-!”

“Sir, I’ve got movement, south entrance,” The statement came from Nines, currently training his rifle on two squads of droids, including some SBDs (super battle droids), exiting the main doors of the Temple. 

Both Sergeants having turned to see the incoming hostiles seemed to quickly come to the realization that neither of them were getting what they wanted.

Sergeant 18 shot his Corporal a look before cursing under his breath and 34 nodded before he turned more so to face Echo Squad.

“Your call. You were here first.”

Mash clenched his jaw from under his helmet. He didn’t need this but… He couldn’t have it completely his way. 

“Can you manage taking the East Tower without blowing it up?” Mash questioned.

The reluctance was evident in Sergeant 18’s movement as he turned towards Mash and finally nodded.

“...We’ll clear it.”

Exchanging a glance with Razor, Mash returned the nod to the other Sergeant.

“We’ll take the main structure; meet up in the communications center after the Temple has been cleared. If you need to, use comm frequency 0374.”

“Roger that,” Sergeant 18 quickly signals to his men and they take off hastily towards the oncoming droids.

With a shake of his head, Mash turned and watched for a brief moment as the squad of newcomers ran off and began blasting away at the droid force.

Nines watched their Sergeant for a moment before exchanging a glance with Hawk before clearing his throat.

“We uh- clear to move in, sir? I’d rather not let them have all the fun.”

Breathing out through his nose, the Echo Squad Sergeant gave his brother a nod before gesturing for them to get moving. 

“Keep it tight.”

“You say that like we’re gonna run off, Sarg.” Hawk chuckled, falling into a loose formation at Nines’ side with Mash and Razor behind them. 

“Just don’t follow in that crack squad’s shoes, please.”

“Looks like their Sergeant is just a little…” Razor trails off, swallowing the breathy laugh he almost let loose.

“Dini'la? (insane?)” Nines tried.

He managed to earn a few chuckles with the comment. 

“Let’s just focus on the task at hand, vod.” Mash responded, voice a little more at ease. Razor had a tendency to keep the atmosphere as light as he was able, especially in instances like this when tension was high. Nines had his own way of trying to do the same, which usually consisted of poking fun at someone or something. “Same rules apply; no explosives. This building needs to be standing by the time we clear it.”

“Copy that, Sarg.” The humor was laced through Hawk’s voice. 

He was the most mellow one of the squad. Mash didn’t really consider himself to have a great sense of humor, but somewhere along the line, Mash subconsciously decided to always play with Hawk and pretend like he was the trigger “explosive” happy one of the bunch. Hawk played along with it. 

“I call entry,” Nines called out, causing Razor to chuckle before moving up closer to the younger clone to cover his six. 

Despite their mismatched squad, formulated as a result of the losses they’d each received, they were quickly becoming a working unit. If it was one thing Mash knew they all took away from their training, it was the constant snippets of advice and encouragement they’d received from their training sergeant. Traat'aliit gar besbe'trayc (The squad is your weapon). Remember that; you are nothing on your own, and everything together. 

“I’ve got movement in the dining hall,” Nines muttered over comms. They were using their internal comm frequency so the droids wouldn’t overhear anything. The other squad hadn’t initiated contact with them on the channel yet, but perhaps that was a blessing in disguise. 

“Tion'solet? (how many?)” Hawk spoke up.

“I said I’ve got movement not a five course meal worth of information ready for you,” Nines shot back.

Hawk just shook his head at his brother’s humor. 

Leaning around the corner, Nines’ HUD marked the number of droids in the room within a beat and he quickly retreated around the corner where the squad was.

“Twelve including a B1 Sergeant and five SBDs. We can use the EMPs right?” Nines questioned quietly to Mash, despite knowing they were on internal comms. 

Electromagnetic Pulse Grenades… Debrief didn’t specifically outline that they couldn’t use them. 

Mash audibly sighed before lowering his rifle a fraction. 

“This is the dining hall. If we end up stuck here a couple days I’d rather raid the pantry than eat ration bars.”

“That’s your argument for not going in with blasters?” Razor questioned, cocking his helmet to the side. 

“.... Yes.” 

“Just this one room.” Mash grunted while shaking his head. “We need to hold onto that ordnance.”

Giving a jut of his helmet, Nines lifted a hand towards Hawk who had the EMP grenades on hand. 

Tossing one to his brother, Nines made his way around the corner and activated the grenade before rolling it into the large room.

A few beats passed before the shuffling and clunking of the metal droids moving about became prominent. 

“What’s that?” The high pitched, animatronic voice was becoming reluctantly familiar before the grenade went off, cutting off any chatter from the hostiles. 

Echo Squad swarmed into the space with deadly precision, shooting down the few remaining droids that were outside the EMPs blast radius before covering the bases of the room.

“Clear!”

“Clear,”

The room was relatively small for a dining facility. Then again, the debrief did reveal this Temple was rarely occupied by more than a few Jedi at a time. 

“What’s left?” Hawk looked towards the Corporal.

“Just Communications; top floor.” Razor turned towards Mash who nodded in agreement.

“While I’m not complaining, the fact that the crack squad hasn’t made contact is a little unsettling,” Nines spoke up once more, taking a seat on one of the tables, slinging his rifle over his lap. 

“Nines-” Mash muttered, waving a hand towards the younger clone. “You're covered in filth, try not to get it all over everything.”

“This building is still under Separatist control last time I checked. I think they’ve got bigger problems then my dirty shebs (backside/rear/“ass”) sitting on their dining tables. Just saying.” Nines shrugged, catching the way Razor quickly looked down and breathed out sharply.

“Don’t encourage him.” Mash didn’t skip a beat in lightly scolding Razor’s reaction to Nines’ humor. 

Wearing full armor and helmets did inhibit one’s ability to read some body language, but they all grew up learning how to read it. He wasn’t completely there yet, but Mash was beginning to pick up on the little details that clued him into each new brother of his. He could almost identify each of them by their breathing in combat. Nines was the easiest to pick out because he always breathed in such an even and controlled manner; a sign of a sniper; the slightest inhale or exhale could mean the hit or miss of a shot. Hawk and Razor were a little harder to tell apart but Mash was getting there. 

“Let’s head up to the top floor.” Mash gestured out of the room with his Deece. “Keep it tight.”

B1 Battle Droids littered the hallway farther down where they had come from. Every floor and room below them had been cleared. All that remained of the main structure was the top floor, the communications center. Whether the other squad had cleared the East Tower was a question Mash hated leaving up in the air. More droids could pour into the lower levels that they had already cleared if the squad didn’t hold up their end. 

Making their way to the end of the hall, they came to an open spiral staircase heading up. Sure there was also a lift, but they didn’t know what they were walking into. The stairs would allow them to survey the situation better. 

It didn’t take long for the squad to make their way up to the top level and to a small hall that led to the opening of the communications center. No doors. They’d just have to move in relatively quickly to get the jump.

Mash followed behind Nines on the left side of the hallway as Hawk and Razor did the same on the right side of the hall. 

“Tactical Droid 12 o’clock.” Hawk said.

“I got it,” Nines had already raised his Deece.

“Pare (wait),” Mash held a hand out, Deece still trained forward, held by another hand despite the pressure it put on his wrist. “Keep it intact, if we get the jump we might be able to salvage information out of it.”

“...Fine.” Nines uttered but kept his rifle in position.

Evaluating the room for a moment, Mash’s HUD marked the hostiles in a moment. Fourteen, a mix of B1s and SBDs not including the Tactical Droid. 

“Razor?” Mash questioned.

“Hawk and I got the right side, you guys take left?”

“Copy.” Gesturing forward with his pointed middle and forefinger Mash quickly grasped his Deece as they moved in. 

Nines headed into the room quicker than the others, shooting down several of the droids before making a run for the Tactical droid before it could register the situation playing out.

Mash shot down what droids remained around Nines, dodging a couple of blaster bolts that came close to his body. 

Razor and Hawk went about taking down droids on the other side of the room, conscious of the blaster charge they were using as they took the droids down as quickly and efficiently as possible; a head shot or correctly positioned body shot; nothing else would do. 

Mash had barely caught Nines finishing off the Tactical droid as he finished ripping the droid’s head from its body before standing up with a laugh, tossing it in his hands twice before looking the intact head over. 

“Vod, gaanaylir (brother, catch).” Nines tossed the droid head towards Hawk who fumbled for a moment, only one hand free as the other grasped his Deece. The droid part clattered against his armor before he secured it properly in his grasp. Hawk then handed the droid head to Razor without much thought and Echo Squad’s slicer made his way towards the command console a couple meters away. 

“Nines, door.” Mash said. 

“Copy that.”

Heading to the front of the room where computer stations lined the walls, Mash lightly ran his fingers over the controls of one of the stations before stepping once to the side to where the security cam screens were. Cycling through them briefly, it took Mash a while to finally find a cam that showed the other squad. By the looks they were making their way towards the communications center and they looked calm enough so they must’ve held up their end. 

“Anything, Sarg?” Hawk asked.

“No droid activity. That squad’s on there way it looks like. Hawk-” Mash got the attention of his comrade and gestured to the console in front of him with a nod.

Hawk nodded and approached him.

“Refresh security systems and realign motion sensors in the building.”

“Sir,” Hawk gave a nod before getting to work. 

“So what’s the plan now?” Nines looked over his shoulder back into the room towards his brothers.

Mash exchanged a glance with Razor who was standing over the command console; the hub for long range communication. 

“I’ll start securing a line to Kamino,” Razor decided. “Enlighten Skipper on our progress.” He turned away and got to work on the console. 

Mash’s eyes dotted over the console where Razor began working before his eyeline fell to the floor and followed the path of destruction towards the door where Nines was. From there his eyes found several moving figures coming down the hall, the other squad. Great.

“Well well,” Sergeant 18 began, the eyeline of his helmet shifting around the room for a moment before settling on Mash. “Su cuy’gar (you’re still alive).” 

“Don’t act so surprised.” Mash muttered before gesturing them over. 

“The East Tower is clear.” The Sergeant continued to look around the room for a brief time before his gaze landed on Mash once more, giving the littlest dip of his head. Mash was quick to reciprocate the gesture in gratitude. 

“Looks like the droids were tampering with the transmitter,” Razor called over. “It’s gonna take some time to get to working.”

“Alright.” Mash’s eyes had quickly found the squad of men who had since entered the room once more. They were so familiar to him and his brothers yet so incredibly different it almost made his blood boil with just how different they were - how different they approached the mission. “In the meantime we need to secure the greater perimeter.”

“You know how long that’ll take?” The Sergeant reprimanded. 

“It needs to be done,” Mash countered before turning towards Nines. Hesitating in his words for a moment, Mash evaluated the men he had present in the room. 

“Let’s send three men, including a Corporal.” Mash wasted little time in subtly waving Nines over.

“If you’ve all got a slicer who can take over this, I’ll take a few men out.” Razor called over, now lying on his back with his head inside a compartment under the command console, helmet on the ground next to his legs. One of the other squad’s men, 87, had since traveled over to where Razor was. After a moment he looked up from where he was knelt down near Razor. 

“I can handle this, sir, if you wanna send someone out with them.” His voice was just a hair higher in pitch and the detail, as small as it was, already told Mash that the clone was younger to some degree; maybe closer in age to Hawk and Nines. 

Sergeant 18 turned towards Mash for a brief time before turning towards the two of his men still at his side. He nodded to one of them and he stepped forward.

“Alright 11… We’ll play it your way. 60 will go with’em on the scouting,” He nods to the comprade that had since stepped up.

Clenching his jaw for a brief time, Mash reluctantly thought over his next move before carefully removing his helmet. Positioning it under his arm, he relaxed his jaw before holding out a hand to the Sergeant.

The soldier was still but the slight movement of his helmet indicated he saw the outstretched hand.

“Echo Squad. They call me Mash.” It was a longshot. But it might make things easier going forward if they stepped past the formalities of numbers for names. 

The Sergeant was unusually still for his seemingly gung ho attitude prior; but the man finally looked down at the hand after an uncomfortable beat of silence before raising his hands to his helmet. Removing the piece of armor, he went to tuck the helmet under his arm before returning the gesture. 

Mash met the same set of eyes. “Trauma Squad... Baxter.” His hair was relatively unkempt, but part of that might have been due to helmet hair. It was not the standard military cut all clones were required to maintain on Kamino; it appeared as if he’d let it grow out a bit, his bangs were just teasing his brow. 

Mash shook his hand once before they each pulled away from the gesture.

Looking to his left, Mash met Razor’s eyes as his brother walked over.

“This is our Corporal’n slicer.” Mash nodded towards him.

“Razor.” He responds.

“That’s ours.” Baxter nods to his right to the clone next to him.

“Ram, Corporal and sniper” The Corporal previously known as 34 chimed in with a dip of his helmet. 

Mash gave a small nod in response to the clone.

“Nines, sniper.” Nines took the opportunity of silence to speak up.

“Hawk, demo.” Hawk waved a loose hand while continuing to fool around with the security system console on the other side of the room. 

The man behind Baxter adjusted his stance before clearing his throat. “Char, demo.”

Mash gave the man a small nod of acknowledgement before he met the eyes of the Trauma Squad sergeant.

Baxter turned and gestured towards the last man who hadn’t been named, currently with his head inside the command console where Razor had previously been.

“The kid over there’s Jack; our slicer.”

“Razor, you alright taking Nines and Char on a perimeter sweep?” 

“Just the courtyard or do we wanna start covering this in sectors?” Razor inquired, looking between the two Sergeants. 

Mash glanced at Baxter momentarily and the Trauma Squad Sergeant did the same. 

“I don’t think we need to start heading off into the jungle just yet,” Baxter’s voice was controlled and somewhat reluctant. 

“Maybe just walk the perimeter outside of the courtyard for now. Take an hour and sweep it; check each road for damage or foot traffic and call in if you see any signs of more droid patrols.” Mash continued to eye Baxter as he spoke. 

“Alright,” Razor nodded before briefly meeting the eyes of Nines and then the one identified as Char, giving them a small nod to move out. 

Mash firmly gripped Razor’s shoulder plating as his brother went to walk by before leaving with the two soldiers in tow. 

“How’s it coming, Jack?”

“Corporal Razor mentioned the power cell might’ve been tampered with.” Jack strained to look out from the small space he had his head in, hands up under the console inside the cylinder structure. 

“Well if that’s the case then we can’t get any messages out at the moment. Not even to a nearby fleet.” Baxter muttered, kneeling down next to his comrade. “May not be the time,” Baxter raised his voice enough to catch Mash’s attention. “But what exactly did your mission debrief necessitate… In detail?”

Mash watched the Sergeant for a moment and remained silent until he got to his feet to face him fully. 

“I’m not sure if we’re there yet.” Mash was calm in his statement but still firm. This could get ugly again and Razor wasn’t there to mediate. Not that he needed it… But when it came to this Sergeant, he found his fuse seemingly much shorter than normal.

“Not sure if we’re there yet.” Baxter repeats with a nod, a hand coming to the back of his head before he ran his fingers through his hair quickly. “Y’know if I didn’t know better I’d say-”

“Go on,” Mash cut him off slightly.

Baxter almost smiled before glancing around the room for a brief time. While his expression said amusement, his eyes held a certain reluctance similar to Mash’s. 

“... Let’s just contact Kamino and get this mess sorted.” 

“Good answer.” Mash gave a nod and crossed his arms; as well as he could in the armor at least while watching the Sergeant walk over to his man at the command console. 

Shaking his head, Mash headed over to Hawk.

“Any luck?” Mash braced a hand on the station Hawk was sitting at and let his eyes graze over some of the cam screens. 

“Systems should be finished with the reboot soon.” Hawk nods. “I’ve got no trips on the sensors aside from us so… I think we’re clear for now.”

Mash lifted his gaze and looked out one of the transparisteel viewports of the Tower, eyes picking up on the large vines that coated the planet surface.

“For now.”

The jungle just surrounding the Temple held an eerie silence. One that hadn’t been present when Echo Squad was on their approach from RV point Axe. The firefight had since quieted any fauna in the vicinity of the Towers. 

Making their way across the courtyard and towards the East road, Nines kicked a few crippled B1s out of his path as they walked. While the sniper was content to keep his eyes forward and on the task at hand, his eyes eventually traveled over to the Trauma Squad member with them; Char. 

Nines let himself look the clone up and down for a beat. He walked different; fought different; no doubt probably did everything a little different too. While your average civvy probably couldn’t comprehend that fact, for a clone, it was just part of the job - part of the job that the Kaminoans never taught them. It was something they just learned early in their lives, despite being manufactured to be the same, there was always that little bit of human that the longnecks could never fully scrub out. Nines figured every training sergeant probably instilled some sort of mindset that reinforced their tendency to individualize themselves; he’d heard rumors about other trainers. 

The Trauma Squad member, like the rest of his squad, had green-like color accents on his white armor. While there was no way in hell that the other squad could tell due to the mud they were still covered in, Echo Squad’s color was red; their armor was accented in the red to orange colors. 

Nines’ eyes caught the couple of stairs ahead that went down a foot before smoothing out into the road heading into the Jungle; the place where one of Trauma Squad had thrown a grenade was prominent in the blasted off pieces of stair that littered the vicinity.

“You’re demo right?” Nines gestured down to the rubble with the barrel of his Deece. “This you?” He laughed. 

The Trauma Squad member came to a stop and slowly looked towards Nines, taking a beat to process the question.

“Was the Sarg,” Char finally responded. He had a somewhat deeper voice, more so than Mash or Baxter too. 

“Guy’s not one for the rulebook is he?” Nines raised an eyebrow from under his helmet before maneuvering down what intact stairs were left. 

“Least he didn’t have us rolling in osik,” The man chuckled and Nines felt annoyance prickle his skin.

“First off its mud. We were running recon and needed to take precautions. Second, we were following a strict outline from the Jedi… They wanted the location taken quickly and quietly to avoid making a scene; I imagine they didn’t want their meditation-force-Temple lookin like a battleground when we were done.” He gestures back to the blown up set of stairs that were getting further away as they continued down the road, checking for any droid activity. 

“...Smells like osik.” Char stated. 

Nines clenched his jaw and caught the way Razor gave him the littlest shake of his helmet. 

Don’t. 

Nines let silence fall, although it took every ounce of self control he had left not to start picking this guy apart. It was in his nature to just… Wind people up. This guy was winding him up and was looking like he wasn’t even giving it his full attention. 

Glancing down at himself for the briefest second he caught the sight of the thick layer of mud still caked to his armor… It did smell terrible.... But it was mud…. Hopefully.

The soldiers continued down the quiet path that led deeper into the jungle until they reached the end of the architectural road that ended at some stairs and a small dirt path, not even a road, that continued into the wilderness.

“Well that was eventful.” Nines muttered before turning to head back in the other direction.

They still had the north and south roads to walk. They’d already swept the west road now opposite their position. “Remind me again why they needed us for this job. This is infantry level work.”

“Says the talking osik pile.” Char surmised, following the sniper with his gaze as he went to leave. 

“Wayii- copaani mirshmure'cye, vod? (Good grief- are you looking for a smack in the face, mate?)” Nines had whipped around, coming relatively face to face or- helmet to helmet with the Trauma Squad member.

“Alright, easy you two!” Razor interrupted the two, putting a hand on each of their shoulders before pushing them apart. “Same team.”

Char glanced towards Razor for a brief time before bowing his head in a small nod. Turning towards Nines he eyed the sniper for a brief time before stepping past him to continue their patrol back to the Temple. 

Nines muttered once more under his breath before meeting the gaze of the Corporal.

“You may know how to wind people up, but you make it relatively easy for others to do the same to you, vod.” Razor chuckled before patting his brother’s shoulder plating. 

Nines rolled his eyes before walking alongside his older brother back down the road to continue their sweep.

“How about- now?” Jack grunted, half of his armored body cramped into the small compartment under the command console. 

“Nothing,” Baxter responded, staring at the dark holotable. 

Mash watched the two quietly while his arms crossed, trying to keep his expression as blank as possible before he exchanged the smallest glance with Hawk and Ram who was standing a meter or two from them. 

A string of curses in Mando’a left the clone before the clattering of metal parts followed. The holotable flickered to life moments later.

“Wait that did it,” Baxter held a hand down to the opening where Jack was.

“You serious? The power cell isn’t even in place I’m holding it-”

“Just don’t move.” Baxter cut him off before going about the controls.

Mash took a couple of steps forward and began putting in a secure channel code. 

“I’ll contact our advisor,” Mash explained, fingers working quickly along the bottoms of the console.

Baxter seemed to stall in his movements as the Echo Squad Sergeant stepped up and he retracted his hands from the console. “You do that,” The Trauma Squad Sergeant moved back slowly before crossing his own arms. 

Mash slowed his actions as he processed the dramatic response from the soldier before resisting the urge to roll his eyes. Finishing the code, Mash activated the transmitter and stood up straight, watching as the holotable, now illuminated, hummed to life. 

It seemed much longer, but a few seconds later a hologramic figure emerged from the table and Mash was quick to recognize him.

“Sergeant, how is your assignment going?” Skipper questioned, hands loosely on his armor belt.

It was a relief to see their Clone Advisor, but Mash found the words leaving his mouth to be far from that thought that grazed his mind.

“Temple’s been retaken, but sir, would you mind explaining to me what the hell high command is playing at?” Mash leaned forward on the console, hands on either side of the controls.

“...Excuse me, Sergeant?” Mash rarely ever talked to a superior with such an aggressive tone. 

“Let me,” Baxter less than gently shoved Mash out of the way before taking his spot in front of the hologram. “What he means to ask is what high command’s been doing with their thumbs up their shebs while we trip over our own feet down here trying to recapture a Jedi timeshare.”

“Wayii.” Mash roughly rubbed a hand over his shaved head before cursing. “Show a little decorum,” Mash seethed.

“Me show decorum?” Baxter turned towards the Echo Squad leader, a hand to his armored chest. 

“Alright, settle down!” Skipper almost had to yell to get the attention of the two Sergeants before they both finally directed their attention to him. “Mash, what’s the state of the Temple? Enemy activity?”

“We’ve secured the position, sir.” Mash said. “We eliminated a small Separatist force holding the location; wasn’t nearly enough to hold it indefinitely; most likely just a temporary force to hold the grounds.”

“They may send reinforcements then. Be on guard.” Skipper warned.

Mash gave a nod before glancing around at the others temporarily. “When will the Jedi be arriving?” 

His question was followed by silence, and Baxter was the first to react as he adjusted his stance and took a step forward.

“Well?”

“...The Jedi don’t have a replacement lined up yet.” Not only did his reluctance to respond clue them in, but the hesitation in his voice as well. 

“Excuse me?” Baxter slowly blinked in response, posture twitching.

“Meaning?” Mash questioned.

“Meaning,” Skippered sighed lightly. “You all aren’t going anywhere until they send a Jedi.”

Baxter, being the first to react again, kicked the command console, causing the hologram to flicker.

“Hey!” Jack called from under the console. 

“You gotta be-” A string of curses in mando’a followed Baxter’s proclamation as he took a couple steps away from the console. 

“Take it easy,” Mash put a hand up.

Returning to the console, Baxter rests both hands on the rim.

“I need to talk to our advisor. He’ll get us out of here.” Baxter made clear.

“Sergeant, your advisor has been pulled for an assignment, so Trauma is officially under my jurisdiction until he returns.”

The man was fuming, but he remained quiet, much to Mash’s surprise. 

“You both are to hold the location and report back any Separatist activity or attempts to retake the Temple. It shouldn’t be more than a couple of days.” Skipper eased, holding out a hand as he spoke. “The Temple has a storage facility with foodstuffs and rations to keep you comfortable if you all are stuck longer than your dry ration packs will allow.”

“We better not be,” Baxter grumbled under his breath, glancing towards Ram.

“You don’t have to worry about a thing, sir.” Mash reassured the Advisor. “We’ll keep the Temple secure.”

“I’ll contact you when I have word on the Jedi.” Skipper gives them a final nod before the hologram disappears and it falls quiet.

“...Can I get up now?” Jack grunted, a foot kicking slightly as the man was still on his back halfway under the console. 

“Alright,” Mash mumbles quietly, meeting Hawk’s eyes before glancing towards Baxter as the man had since began pacing around slowly. “Well-”

“Jetiise (Jedi; plural),” Baxter uttered under his breath before shaking his head. 

“Hey,” Mash’s tone lowered in a warning manner. The man seemed quick to want to bash on any of the higher ups.

“It’ll only be for a few days.” Ram spoke up, meeting Mash’s gaze for a brief moment before looking towards his Sergeant. 

Walking over to the computer stations lining the far wall, Mash stepped past Baxter to grab his helmet and put it on.

A couple careful blinks later, he activated their secure comm channel.

“Razor? How’s the patrol going?” Mash spoke up, eyeline shifting to the left as Jack crawled out from under the commander console and put a hand through his hair with a mumble. 

The comms crackled briefly before he got a response.

“All qui… out here, Mash. No sign u-... oid traffic around the T… ple yet. We’re almost done ch... south road th… be heading back.”

“Transmission was fuzzy but I understand. Let me know if anything changes,” Mash responded.

“Yes sir. Any news?”

Mash clenched his jaw and thought it over for a moment before shaking his head.

“Long story short- we’re stuck here together until the Jedi can send someone. Could be a few days.”

“Did he j… ays!?”

That was Nines alright.

“I see,” Razor responded. “Brief us when w…. back.”

“Will do,” Mash finished the transmission before taking his helmet off with a sigh.

“Just great.” Nines growled under his breath, his grasp on his Deece tightening and loosening as he fidgeted. “Stuck with crack squad for-”

“Who’re you calling a crack squad, mate?” Char cut him off. “We’re not the squad looking like they just crawled out of a swamp.”

“Keep talking and I’ll make sure they find your body at the bottom a swamp, mate.” Nines barked back, having turned on his heel to stop Char in his tracks.

“Gev! Take it down!” Razor ordered, shouldering Nines to get his younger comrade to back off. “Both of you,” Razor turned a look on Char before gesturing them both forward. “Squabbling like Infantry cadets for galaxy’s sake-” He cursed before walking ahead of both of them. 

Nines begrudgingly followed, but not before exchanging a small glance with Char before they began heading back to the Temple. 

The walk back was quiet and by the time they’d gotten up to the communications center, the atmosphere had leveled out. 

“The perimeter is clear.” Razor announced, removing his helmet as he entered the communications room. 

Mash turned and met the eyes of his Corporal with a nod.

“Seppies won’t stay quiet for long,” Baxter chimed in, leaning against the command console with his armed crossed, expression almost belligerent as he looked back down at the ground with a scowl. “They’ll send reinforcements and soon.”

“We’ll be ready,” Mash agreed, hands resting on his armor belt. “First things first, we need to start organizing patrols; keep an eye on local air traffic an-”

“Who- put you in charge exactly?” Baxter questioned, his expression revealing genuine confusion but also fatigue. 

Mash clenched his jaw and breathed out quietly through his nose before shooting Razor the smallest look. 

“It’ll only be a couple days, I’m sure we can balance leadership.” Ram proposed, sitting at one of the chairs at the computer stations at the opposite side of the room.

Baxter’s body jolted as if he was trying to prevent a scoff before he nodded.

“Better only be a couple days.”

ONE WEEK LATER… 

Nines clenched his jaw, staring down towards his hands before his gaze lifted and he met Char’s eyes. The Trauma Squad member stared back at him, expression hardly set but relatively at ease despite the fact. 

Tapping his finger lightly, Nines swallowed before he finally nodded.

“I’ll raise you three Nuna jerky strips.” Nines finally stated before tossing the packaged meat into the center of the table.

“I’ll match that, vod.” Char nodded before grabbing some packaged jerky strips from the backpack next to his feet, tossing them into their pot where other small foods and rations resided. 

From the other side of the communications center, Ram watched the two playing cards with a tightly knit brow.

“I don’t get it,” Ram finally muttered, giving a shake of his head. 

“What?” Razor questioned while chewing on a ration stick, eyes on the SOP manual up on the datapad balanced on his propped up leg. 

“They’ll be at each other's throats night and day- but as soon as the Sabacc cards come out they turn more civil than jetiise.”

Razor let a hard breath out through his nose in amusement before shrugging lightly, using a knuckle to scroll down on the datapad. 

Those two were always going at each other, but over the past several days they’d each discovered their love of the card game, Sabacc. They’d started developing an awkward love/hate relationship with the game at the center. 

“As long as they’re quiet,”

The week had passed by slowly. Razor and Ram were getting along alright during the time, however Mash and Baxter were still at opposite ends of a spectrum. They butted heads but a brotherly atmosphere was starting to settle in. 

Turning in his chair, Ram faces the computer station and quickly goes about cycling through the comm channels, listening for any chatter that might clue them into a hostile force. Alongside that chore was looking for any Separatist activity on the air traffic scanners. So far they’d had nothing all week.

The beeping of one of the air traffic scanners causes both Ram and Razor to look up from their distractions. Ram is the first to swing around in his chair and lean over to the neighboring computer station. 

Razor got up from his chair and walked over.

“Got something?” He questioned.

Ram evaluated the reading before narrowing the scanner range.

“I’ve got a ship entering the atmosphere, around 50 klicks out.” Ram responded, brow knit as he watched the screen on the station plot a hypothetical course for the ship that was approaching. “Computer's plotting its course; it looks like they’re heading for us.” Ram muttered before getting to his feet. Cycling through the channels for a moment, Ram found the only other active one and pressed one of the buttons on the panel to unmute the transmission.

“Incoming ship, you are entering restricted Republic Military airspace,”

Razor eyed the image on the screen that estimated the ship’s trajectory as Ram continued to recite one of the standard messages from the SOPs manual.

“Do you copy?” Ram waited but only static came through on the comms. 

“I repeat, incoming ship, you have entered restricted Republic Military airspace-”

“They’re coming in way too fast.” Razor muttered, eyeing the readings on the computer screen built into the station. “Reads are coming through… Ships heavily damaged.”

“Specs?” Ram inquired. 

“Hull integrity is at critical levels, heat spikes all over the ship, scanner’s reading engine failure. That ship’s not being piloted, it’s going down.”

“What’s the estimated crash path?” Ram asked, finger hovering over the comm button, allowing the static to come through. 

Going about the controls on the station, Razor expanded the aerial map of the surrounding area and the computer AI marked an estimated crash zone. 

At seeing the area, Razor leaned in further, brow knitting tightly. 

“Something wrong?” Ram questions.

“That’s just near RV point Axe… Aren’t they patrolling that area?” Razor questioned, turning to the fellow Corporal.

At processing his comrade’s words, Ram quickly abandoned the comm frequency he was using to contact the unknown ship and set the frequency to their squad comm channel.

“Sergeants we’ve got a ship coming in with a projected crash zone in your area… Baxter? Sergeant Mash?” 

Razor watched the fellow soldier quietly before glancing to the side seeing Nines and Char had since approached, similarly reflected expressions of concern. 

“Haar'chak, I can’t get anything through,” Ram swore before shaking his head; meeting Razor’s eyes. “Wanna head out?”

In the past few days, they’d discovered how communications were difficult on the planet. If a party was out in the jungle, comms were always very sensitive. They knew it would complicate matters if the Separatists organized an attempt to retake the Temple. 

“... Yeah, let’s go.” Razor agreed before quickly going to grab his helmet. “You two hold down here,” Razor looked to both Nines and Char. 

“Let us know if you need any help.” Nines nodded before shrugging. “... Well I guess you won’t be able to so-... If it looks bad from here we’ll- consider coming to help.”

“Good to know,” Ram smirked before throwing his helmet on. 

Nodding to the other Corporal, they both began running for the hall. 

There had been a short rain shower earlier in the morning. The ground was soft and their armored boots sunk into the soil as they treaded through the jungle. 

Baxter was walking a few yards ahead with Jack at his side, and Mash followed closely behind with Hawk. 

The Trauma squad members were chatting lightly amongst themselves and Mash and Hawk chatted on and off.

They had fallen into a relatively simple routine over the past few days. They’d hit bumps now and again, but everyone usually did their best to stay out of each other’s way. 

The ease of the atmosphere around them came to a screeching halt however, when the crackling of sticks sounds off to their 9 o’clock. 

Baxter is the first to ready his rifle before anyone else had time to process the sound disruption. They may not have been a squad, but they knew how to make it work, and everyone worked off of each other in accordance with the developments around them.

All of them trained on an assortment of foliage several meters away, more rustling follows before small chirp-like noises emit from the bushes.

It was a familiar sound. One of the native fauna from the planet, a small reptilian species. However the familiarity didn’t stop Baxter from watching the position from which the sound radiated with a raised weapon. 

Jack had his weapon raised hesitantly as well, although Sergeant Mash’s lack of reaction caused him to second guess his own. They hadn’t seen any action in weeks. It was obvious Sergeant Baxter was getting an itchy trigger finger to shoot something. 

“S’nothing, brother.” Mash mumbled, rifle loosely held in front of him.

Baxter rolled his eyes from under his helmet and muttered under his breath before continuing on their patrol.

“Jedi are wasting Special Forces; as if Geonosis wasn’t enough of a wake up call for em,” Baxter said, his pace picking up. 

Mash tries not to roll his shoulders in an effort to ease the prickle of uneasiness he got from Baxter’s comment. How had this clone survived this long without getting himself terminated. 

“C’mon, vod,” Mash mumbled, knowing Baxter would understand his comment. 

In training, they were taught that Jedi leadership was invaluable. However at the Battle of Geonosis, the clone army was in for a somewhat rude awakening at just how unprepared the Jedi seemed to be in leading the army. Special Forces lost half of their numbers, and strategically, the Battle was a mess. Many clones came out of their first battle confused, even angered, but still unwaveringly loyal to the Jedi… well most of them did. Baxter made Mash rethink that part.  

“Maybe the next assignment will have us mopping floors in the Jedi Temple, who knows you gotta remain optimistic.” Baxter called over his shoulder. 

Mash just shook his head and exchanged a small glance with Hawk. 

Crackling over the comms caused Mash to slow his pace, a hand raising subconsciously towards his helmet. 

“Razor? That you?” Mash spoke up.

“We-.... ip comi… cra… yo-...”

“Damn it,” Mash muttered before using his knuckles to knock the side of his helmet a couple of times. “Are you getting anything clear Baxter?” 

“No,” The Trauma Sergeant grumbled, eyeline on the ground as he tried to listen to the gargled transmission. “Come on boys, spit it out.”

“Repe… shi… proj… crash…” 

Mash shook his head lightly as he tried to listen only to start hearing a roar of a ship in the background of the transmission.

“...You hear that?” Mash turned towards Hawk who nodded.

“Hey Max,” Baxter suddenly spoke up.

The Sergeant’s expression fell from under his helmet. “It’s Mash,” He grumbled before turning around to look at the Sergeant.

He was looking up through the vine canopy. 

Mash’s brow knit in response to seeing the Sergeant before he followed the man’s eyeline to the sky, eyes widening at the sight.

“Uh… That doesn’t look good.” Jack stated, also finding the ship that was hurtling down towards them in a ball of fire. 

“GO GO GO!” Mash yelled, waving the men off. They began running towards the ship and managed to avoid most of the debris coming off of the craft as it crashed through the vine canopy and barreled into the mud around forty yards away. 

Half of the men had dived for cover from broken pieces of the ship that had rained down.

“Everyone alright?” Mash called out, the question leaving his mouth before he could register his own state.

“Fine here sir,”

“All good.”

Mash quickly got to his feet, seeing Baxter had already done the same.

“Not what I was expecting when I hoped for some action but I won’t complain,” The Trauma Sergeant didn’t waste any time, and Mash wasn’t going to slow him down as they quickly began making their way towards the wreckage. “Wanna bet they were trying to warn us?” Baxter laughed, referring to the rest of their group at the Temple.

Mash nodded to the side in agreement, feeling Hawk come up on his right as they followed the canyoned trail the ship had left in its wake.

It was a fairly large craft, a freighter by the look of what was left. 

A small explosion off of one of the dislodged engines causes the team to jump back a step. 

Baxter suddenly patted Mash had on the back before going closer to the wreck.

“We’ll cover the cockpit area,” He practically threw the comment over his shoulder before jogging off with Jack close behind him.

“But- I- Erm,” Mash shook his head and quieted his objection before it could pass through his lips. 

“Let’s cover the back of the ship,” Mash responded, looking towards his comrade. “Looks like the ship’s main structure is still relatively intact. We might be able to enter through the cargo bay.”

Hawk acknowledged his Sergeant with a nod before going to follow the clone. Both keep a close eye on the wreckage as they approach. Parts of the hull were missing, revealing little hints of darkness within the craft. There could still be lifeforms on board. 

Hawk let his eyes run along the side of the crashed ship as they made their way closer. Most of the ship wasn’t ablaze, the engines had been, but they’d broken off the main craft when it struck the ground. 

Giving the side of the ship another once over, Hawk cleared his throat. “My HUD isn’t recognizing this freighter, sir.”

“It isn’t Republic, keep your eyes open.” Mash responded, rifle raised. 

They get to the back of the ship and the ramp is dislodged from the freighter. Giving the dark opening a quick once over, Mash nodded to Hawk and they began making their way inside. 

Cargo boxes and cages of supplies littered the space. Despite the wreckage everywhere, Mash was quick to spot an outlying object.

“10 o’clock,” Mash nodded to the corpse off to the left as they headed further into the ship. 

Hawk noted the body, as well as another farther away against the wall and followed the Sergeant. Their HUDs could pick up life signs and so far, there weren’t any.

“Hey Mack!” Baxter called out suddenly. “We’ve got some dead lizards up here!” Baxter appears from an elevated platform up the wall at the back of the cargo bay that they had been heading towards. There was most likely a door to the cockpit and a ladder somewhere. 

Mash shook his head and looked up, noting the ship was relatively small now, from what was remaining intact; the ship was now clear. 

“It’s Mash.” The Echo squad Sergeant responded under his breath, lowering his rifle in front of him 

“Trandoshans?” Hawk inquired, craning his neck to look up to where Baxter and Jack were.

“Lizards. Did I stutter, kid?” Baxter responded.

“Yeah Hawk, Trandoshans,” The remnants of a chuckle sounded through Jack’s helmet as he softened Baxter’s sarcastic response. 

Both jumped down into the cargo area and Baxter playfully knocked Hawk’s shoulder plating with his knuckles. 

A sudden shudder of cargo crates in the back right corner of the ship’s cargo bay causes the soldiers to jump into action. Mash and Hawk have their weapons trained on the origin of where the sound originated and Baxter and Jack did the same. The first sign of a potential hostile in a week. It was safe to say they were anticipating a threat.

Taking a couple steps closer, Baxter kept his rifle trained at the corner of the damaged ship’s bay before hand signaling to the others.

Mash, Hawk and Jack all gave nods in response before Baxter spoke up.

“Come out!” Voice alone, Baxter’s ranged on the lower end of what was common for clones; coupled with the helmet filtering his voice, he sounded even more menacing.

When nothing followed the demand, Baxter knocked the crates with a calculated kick of his armored leg, jostling them a good bit but not moving them enough to reveal the hostile.

“NOW!”

Changing the settings on his HUD, Mash changed his helmet display to thermal and after a couple seconds, his brow knit together at the readings coming from behind the crates.

“Bax-”

“Am I speaking Huttese? Get out here you di-”

“Take it easy, Baxter!” Mash finally snapped, jabbing the other Sergeant with his armored elbow before lowering his weapon.

“Er you crazy?” Baxter growled, helmeted gaze whipping around to the other Sergeant. 

“Alright you,” Mash took a couple of steps closer, “C’mon out,” Voice still significantly firm, but lower in volume to Baxter’s, Mash waited for some kind of response to the changed approach. 

The silence that followed doesn’t ease Baxter’s caution as he kept his rifle trained on the crates before eyes peek over one of the boxes.

“Yeah you- out.” Mash muttered pointing to the ground in front of his feet with his forefinger, rifle still held up in one hand trained ahead.

A small being made their way out from behind the crates and Hawk slowly lowered his rifle; Jack followed the action not far behind. 

Taking a moment to process the lifeform, Baxter felt his shoulders fall. “Too bad,” Baxter finally muttered. “Was looking for an excuse to unload on somethin,” Baxter’s eyes trail over the young girl now standing in front of him with slight disappointment. 

“Sir,” Jack breathed out a laugh.

“Told you Jay,” Baxter glanced back towards his slicer, “I got more of that sociopathic blood in my system than the others.” 

Mash looked over the being quietly. She was young, probably an early adolescent; dirty and emaciated. His HUD was picking up on an accelerated heart rate.

“Sir,”

Mash turned and looked over his shoulder to see his Corporal, Razor, along with Trauma Squad Corporal, Ram. 

“We went ahead and did an extra sweep of the crash site perimeter. Any life in he- Oh,” Razor caught sight of the small being that barely met the soldiers chest plates in height.

“Affirmative,” Hawk shrugged lightly, rifle at ease in front of him before he looked back down to the girl who had taken a few steps back towards the crates she’d been hiding behind.

“So we’ve got no other survivors,” Baxter stated, processing the fact before nodding. 

“The ship didn’t come up on my HU-”

“Didn’t on ours either,” Baxter cut Razor off as he looked over the torn up ship around them. 

“I’ll begin scanning the haul,” Ram offered before leaving the damaged cargo bay.

Mash looked around further before turning his eyes to Baxter as he moved out of his peripheral.

“A miracle she survived this,” The Sergeant of Trauma Squad grunted while evaluating the ship’s seemingly nonexistent roof before turning his eyes to the child. “You’re lucky, kid.”

Masterlist | Next Chapter | Chapter Art & Map | Echo & Trauma Squad

CHAPTER NOTE: If you’re reading this, well first off congratulations. I’m frankly quite surprised you haven’t fallen asleep yet or given up. Second of all, I hope you enjoyed!!! One note: Mando’a is littered throughout, I apologize if I made mistakes, I’m still learning! 

Support is appreciated if you had fun reading :) I hope to post the next chapter soon!

[stateofsport211]

📸 🎥 ATP official website

However, in contrast to the dominant first set, E. Habiyambere started to find his range from the baseline while Cukierman still struggled. This time, after three consecutive holds, E. Habiyambere found his way through a forehand pass to Cukierman's failed volley, which opened up his chances before Cukierman's forehand errors resulted in the break to 3-1. E. Habiyambere proceeded by holding his serves to 4-1, and Cukierman survived a possible demolition before a massive hold to 4-2.

However, the next game became its own tussles with both players having their distinct chances. In this case, E. Habiyambere tried to construct his points tidily through a volley finish from earlier, but even if he foiled Cukierman's break points with an ace or a serve + drop shot, he still faced some troubles. Cukierman then created a break point through a cross-court forehand, but it was foiled through a cross-court backhand error gone too wide. Eventually, surviving 12 deuces and 6 break points, E. Habiyambere held his serves to 5-2. Cukierman then had to survive a set point made out of his forehand error and scored a massive hold to 5-3.

The next game became crucial as E. Habiyambere should have served for the set. However, an erroneous, tight showing did not help as Cukierman managed to score a forehand pass before the former had a failed slice to create his break point. It was converted thanks to a timely backhand down-the-line winner (5-4), followed by equalizing the score to 5-5. It took two games later before the tie-break became inevitable, where Cukierman initially took full command of the flow due to E. Habiyambere's previous forehand errors. The latter then managed to catch up due to Cukierman's forehand errors, went on saving a match point due to a let cord moment, but another forehand error on his serve moments after his set point was saved due to a successful serve+1 from Cukierman converted the match point for the latter, taking the second set 7-6(7) to secure a spot in the second round.

[hypno-egos]

Anti’s Toy Box: The Doll

TW: The following chapter contains themes of: Gore, Brainwashing, Suicide, Cosmic/Psychological/Body horror, Abuse, Alcoholism, possible Chase x Anti, and many other triggering topic. Reader’s discretion is advised. Chapter 1: Chase groaned as he finally came back to consciousness. The hard concrete outside of his shithole apartment scratched deep into his skin as he moved. He pulled himself up, eyes still closed due to a massive headache. Must have been drinking the night before. Once the pain subsided enough, his eyes opened to look up at a pitch black sky. How long had he been out for exactly? He looked back down to the rest of his surroundings. As soon as his eyes glanced at the rest of the city, he felt something heavy drop in the pit of his stomach.

 He stared motionless at the massive green tinted highrises, glitching in and out other buildings like a poorly rendered video game. Birds that were mid flight were frozen in place, their eyes black and physical forms breaking down into pieces, rapidly disassembling and reassembling into horrific amalgamations. He stumbled to his feet in a panic. Trails of small pixels seemed to float off of his body as he moved and then disappear into the ether. He felt a lump catch in his throat. He was struggling to breath as he stared at the strange world that seemed to mock his very own. He clutched his forehead yet again. A persistent hangover it was. He stumbled back into the wall behind him, clutching an empty bottle of whiskey.

“H-hello?”Chase’s voice was timid. He wasn’t sure if he should’ve yelled or remained silent. He wasn’t sure where he was or if he even should be attracting attention but he was desperate for answers. He mustered enough air and decided to let loose.“HELLO!?” He screamed out only to be replied to by his own voice. It seemed to slowly distort and warp over time, getting louder and louder until it suddenly stopped. He gulped and clutched the bottle close. What happened to the world? To him? Was there something wrong with him? He slowly moved to the front door, his footsteps echoing around him. The inside of the building was sort of the same besides the green hue to everything now. Something felt...off about it. The inside was completely untouched. It was as if the building was completely untouched by any sort of dirt or dust or….life for that matter. Beside the standard furniture, there was nothing.

Chase raced to the stairs to his apartment on the fifth floor. The halls were dark and narrow, more so than his dingy halls he knew. His flat was at the very end of the long hall. The far end of it was shrouded in darkness. Chase stood at the other end, frozen as a statue.

‘Come on. It’s just a hall. Once you start walking, just keep going until you reach the door. Okay...three...two...one!’

He didn’t move. Despite him trying to push himself, he found himself frozen in place out of pure fear. What if there was something lurking behind the dark? Something sinister. He couldn’t help but tense up. As he stared deep into the seemingly unending darkness, he heard a crackling noise along with a light high pitch ringing. The pain returned to his head. A light chuckle rang through the halls. A sound that made his blood run cold. The pain began growing more and more as footsteps began approaching him. He fell to one knee as a dizzying sensation took over. He looked up to see a familiar silhouette in the darkness.

“Finally awake...took you long enough.” The sickening voice hissed at Chase. Just hearing that voice made Chase want to puke. As the figure approached, the sound of static became louder and louder as well as the ringing. It caused a head splitting pain that nearly made Chase cry. The figure just gave him a cold smile as it watched him suffer.

Chase after a few moments of silence managed to compose himself enough to formulate his thoughts into words.

“Anti? W-where are we? What...what the hell is going on!?” Chase shouted, sounding desperate. That was the demons favorite sound.

“Oh Chase...you poor thing. Can’t even remember how you got here. Damn dirty alcoholics like you deserve to be here. Unlike your friends, you’re nothing but a waste of life.”Anti growled, kicked an empty beer bottle towards Chase.

Chase’s eyes shot open and he forced himself to his feet, trying to fight off the dizziness.“Look! I-I’m tired of these games, man! You’ve done nothing but torture us...all of us for years! For fucking once, just...just tell me the truth!” Chase cried pathetically.

Anti cocked his head to the side, almost impressed however this wouldn’t last for too long. Before Chase knew it, Anti had teleported himself so that he was sitting in a nearby window sill.

“Oh ho! Pace yourself there, trickshot. Don’t ask questions you really don’t want to know the answer to.”

The green demon dangled his leg out the window. The deep black sky seemed to blend in with Anti’s shirt seamlessly, as though it were physically part of him. Chase backed away slowly from the other. He sure as hell didn’t want to be within swinging distance of this thing.

Hesitantly, he responded.“I-I demand you tell me what’s-.”Before Chase could finish, Anti was cackling loud and hard.“You demand me!? A pathetic worm like you trying to demand ME!? That’s probably the funniest shit I’ve heard in a long time!”He sighed and collected his composure before getting off the windowsill and gestured towards the long and dark hallway. “If you really wanna know, just go and find out.” His voice was almost mocking in a way.

Chase was tired of being patronized by this parasite.“Maybe I will!”

Chase said, trying to sound confident. He took a step forward into the dark before his whole body froze up. He stared down the black maw in front of him. For some reason, his whole being was rejecting, protesting that he went any further than where he was. At first, he thought it was Anti fucking with him again. That is, until he saw another empty bottle roll out from the darkness. Something about that activated the fight or flight reflexes in him. Sweat poured down the back of his neck as he fought his instincts to try and move a step closer. He was so intensely focused on trying to move that he didn’t even notice the other slither up behind him.“Well...what’s holding you back? Didn’t you want to know?”

He whispered. Chase jumped a bit as he heard the voice, unintentionally moving more into the hall. Again, he started moving away, trying to avoid Anti. He didn’t realize he was backing up to his apartment door until he bumped into it. The numbers 89 read coldly on the door. It took Chase a while to process that his door was slightly ajar. A light spilled out. A sort of burning warm light. Somehow, it sent chills down Chase’s spine.

He opened the door, revealing his trashed apartment. Tables were turned upside down, stains of alcohol were stained on the walls and carpet, empty bottles and broken glass were scattered across the floor. The whole scene was illuminated by a deep red light. He opened his mouth to say something, however he stopped himself when he saw the open window. His heart skipped a beat as a breeze fluttered into the somewhat warped room. Anti stepped in from behind Chase, admiring the demolition.

“Hehe...well, what are you waiting for? The truth is right out that window, Chaser.” He cooed in his mocking voice.The pain in Chase's head returned. It felt as though his brain itself was imploding. The room itself spun around him. Anti began to become blurry as tears began to cloud his eyes. “L-leave….me alone…”

He cried, clutching the booze stained rug underneath him.“You were the one who wanted to know the truth. I warned you, but you didn’t listen.”Anti growled.

“And now...you’ll see it through.”Anti lifted Chase up by the collar of his shirt. He practically threw him towards the window. He slumped over, managing to catch himself on the windowsill. This was it. Chase could feel the sense of some sort of impending doom lurking in the back of his pounding skull. He shouldn’t look, but he has to.

Slowly, he picked himself up and began slowly peeking over the wall between him and his fate. Down below the floors of the apartment was his world. Not just that. What he saw was a splattered and mangled corpse in the darkened street. Only some of its features were illuminated just enough by a street lamp. The horror set in as Chase saw the gray snap back he’d grown so accustomed to wearing. A flood of emotion ran through his entire being as he looked down at what used to be him.

He remembered. Finally, the pain in his head subsided for a new sort of pain. The memories of what had really happened last night. Losing the custody battle with Stacy. Getting that eviction notice when returning home. The fight he got into with Marvin and Jackie. Taking out his anger on the Doctor who was only trying to help him. The copious amounts of alcohol he’d consume at the bar, only to get kicked out and stumble to the liquor store. Oh god. Oh god oh god.

The pain had spread all through him. A sort of crushing weight. He fell back to the floor, a trembling and weak mess. He looked up at Anti.“Why? Why did you do this to me!?” Chase shouted, wrapping his arms around himself. He felt every bit of loneliness he felt the night before. It was like a black hole that seemed to consume him eternally. Anti simply scoffed.

“Don’t blame me for your actions. This was all your own doing.”He circled the poor bastard.

“Then why the hell are you here!? I thought you wanted us all dead? Did you come here to rub it in my face?”

Anti paused for a moment before leaning down to his eye level.

“When you jumped...did you really think the pain was going to end? That pain that swallowed you whole?”

“...y-yes….but...it’s worse now more than ever. I...I just...want it to stop.” He whimpered. Anti thought the whole display was pathetic. Maybe he deserved his misery. Maybe he deserved to feel the weight of his guilt in this world forever. After all, unlike Chase’s friends, he was useless. Contributed nothing to the world that chewed him up and spat him out. A waste of life. Anti smirked. Perfect.

“You know...I can make this pain disappear.” Anti managed to speak up after a while.“I can make it so this never happened. Bring you back to life...with a catch.”

Chase just gritted his teeth.“Fuck you…”Anti shrugged and stood up.“Okay. Well if you want to wallow in your own sadness forever, I’ll gladly oblige.” Anti started towards the door of the apartment.

Chase knew that this unbearable pain would just get worse. He didn’t want to be alone. Anti was the only thing keeping it from crushing him.

“W-Wait!”He couldn’t believe what he was saying.“Please...d-don’t leave….” He reached out and grabbed Anti’s pant leg.“Tell me...what’ll happen if I say yes?”Anti smiled and knelt back down.

“Before you died, your life was meaningless. You were nothing. Life has given you very little. But me? I can give you a purpose. A second chance. And I can promise you every once of pain you feel right now will disappear.” Chase stared down at the floor for a moment, considering his options.“What’s the catch?”

“Well...I wouldn’t want to ruin the surprise. But I can promise that you’ll finally feel some semblance of happiness.”

“...I...I haven’t felt that in so long.” Chase let out a sad chuckle. Before him was Anti’s outstretched hand. Chase managed to delude himself into thinking that it wasn’t attached to a horrible monster for a moment, and rather an old friend. His shaky hand slowly reached towards Anti’s. The two men grasped each other’s hands tightly.As soon as Chase shook it, his whole body felt a tingling sensation. It started from his arm and slowly worked its way up to his head. Static. Static was filling each and every part of his being. It was like he was drowning in it. He slowly began forgetting things. Little things at first. His pet dog. His YouTube channel. But then when the faces of his ex wife and friends began fading, he felt the pain suddenly vanish. He realized how good letting go to this nothingness was. His body fell into Anti’s arms. He wanted more. More blissful nothingness. More of this static. Anti wrapped his arms around the other, slowly rubbing up and down his pet’s back. Chase didn’t realize how touch starved he was until then. But that didn’t matter now. Everything was fading. Even the world around them didn’t matter anymore. He just wanted to give into the nothingness. He closed his eyes, and let the noise carry him into a blissful sleep.

Chase soon awoke. His gaze was hazy and dull as he stared up at the ceiling. He tried remembering how he got there, but ultimately decided he didn’t really care. He felt comfy. He tried picking himself up, but found that he couldn’t move anything below his neckline. Typically, he’d be alarmed by this, however he just couldn’t be bothered to question it. Maybe he was supposed to be still? The last thing he remembered was Anti holding him. Anti...why was that nice so nice to hear in his head. Made him feel all warm and fuzzy. Anti had always been there for him, hasn’t he? Yeah, of course he has!

Chase was having such a hard time thinking with all the static in his head. Warm, fuzzy static. Making him just melt and drift away. In and out of consciousness. Like waves crashing over him. In and out and in and out. He began to drool a bit, as though he were a baby. He was having such a good time, he couldn’t even tell that he was in some sort of decaying bedroom in a decrepit asylum. The bed he was laying on though felt oh so soft. He snapped to attention once the door opened. It was Anti! His brother...no...friend...not right…lover? He couldn’t remember but that didn’t matter to him. Chase felt a mindless smile sliding up his cold face.

“Anti! So happy to see you!” He said in a very soft and timid tone. He was still trying to get a grip on his reality.

Anti smiled in return and sat on the edge of his bed.

“Ah...hello doll. Glad to see you’re awake.”He cooed in a sickeningly sweet voice.

Doll? Was that his name? Yeah! Yeah that was his name! He giggled a bit.“What’s so funny, my puppet?” Anti asked as he cocked his head to the side.

“Nothing. Just sort of funny I forgot my name.” Chase looked back up at the ceiling.“Actually...I’m forgetting a lot of things.”

“That’s because you’ve hit you head, Doll. Don’t you remember who I am?” Anti grabbed Chase’s hand. It was cold, smooth, and hard. Although, Chase couldn’t even tell that his whole body had become this same porcelain material. Something as fragile as his old mental state.

“Do you remember who I am?”

“Uhh...well….sort of. I...know your name is Anti and you’re my-“

Before Chase could finish his thought, Anti finished it for him.“Master. I’m your Master, my dear doll.” Anti caressed Chase’s face. Seemingly by instinct, Chase leaned into his touch. It all made sense now.

“You’re...my Master. Yes…” he purred.

Anti grabbed his new doll and positioned him into a seating position. He sat behind him and began posing his arms.

“Yes...I’m your Master and you’re my doll. Without me, you have no purpose. You’re my plaything.” He whispered in Chase’s ear.

Each word seemed to bounce around in his head, sinking in deeply. All the pieces of the puzzle were falling into place.

“Yes...I am your...plaything. Th-thank you for giving me purpose, Master!” Chase beamed.

Anti wrapped his arms around his new porcelain doll’s waist possessively.

“Do you love me, doll?” Anti asked as he placed Chase’s old hat on top of his head.

“Of course I do, Master! I l-love you s-so much!” He said almost without thinking. However, he believed every word he was saying.

Anti posed him so he was sitting cross legged. “Good puppet.” He patted the top of his head which filled Chase with even more happiness.

“Tell me...does this mean anything to you?” He walked in front of Chase, showing him an old photo of him and his kids, ripping it right in front of him.

Chase just stared at the pieces of the photo’s a bit confused.“Um...no Master. I don’t r-recognize anyone in th-the picture. Is it...supposed to mean something to me?”

Anti grinned ear to ear.

“Oh no...it was just a picture of some family. But I’m your only family, doll.”

He held the Doll’s hands.“...only f-family.” Chase repeated and nodded along.

“Very good. Now, I’m going to be gone for a bit. Be a good doll and sit here. Don’t move and don’t think.” As soon as Anti said ‘don’t think’ Chase’s expression went blank and he stared at the wall, the static creeping back into his mind.

With one last chuckle, Anti made his way to the door before looking back and cooing.“Good puppet.”