#also this chapter is a reminder that Monkey is a bit of an asshole

[pompomqt]

Journey to the West Chapter 44

Pigsy flushing the three pure ones down the toilet:

I can see why Laozi wants nothing to do with their group lol.

We're back with yet another chapter of Journey to the West with @journeythroughjourneytothewest where our favorite monks get to encounter monks who are somehow even less fortunate then them. So let's get into it shall we?

So the gang has been traveling for a while without incident when they suddenly hear an ear piercing cry. Tripitaka is startled by the noise but not enough to fall off his horse thankfully. The gang makes their guesses on what the noise could be, with Sandy placing his bet on landslide, while Pigsy bets on thunder, and Tripitaka decides to stick with his guess of men shouting or horses neighing. They then send out Monkey to find out what the noise was to settle their bets.

So Monkey investigates and finds that Tripitaka is the winner of that little bet, it is indeed a bunch of men making the noise. More specifically a bunch of monks who are hauling building supplies up a cliff. At first Monkey just assumes they are working to repair a monastery or something and wasn't able to hire anyone however that theory goes out the window as soon as he see's two Daoist's approach. For as soon as the Daoist's approach the group of monks they start freaking out and pulling the cart even harder. When he see's this Monkey realizes that he's heard about this city before, a place where Daoism is revered and Bhuddism is harshly penalized.

Monkey decides to get a better picture of the situation before making his report to his manager, less Tripitaka call him incompetent. So monkey disguises himself as a Daoist in order to integrate himself with them. So Monkey introduces himself as a humble Daoist here to beg for some vegetarian food. The Daoist's cheerfully inform him that there is no need to beg for food here, since Daoism is revered by even the King in this nation, which is called the Cart Slow Kingdom. And with a little prompting from Monkey the Daoist's give us the whole kingdom's backstory.

The backstory in question is that twenty years ago there was a huge drout and although the kingdom came together to pray to the heavens for relief it was hopeless. However just as all hope was lost three immortal Daoist's stopped by who go by the names Tiger Strength Immortal, Deer Strength Immortal and Goat Strength Immortal. These three immortal's were able to summon rain for the kingdom. They also posses some other abilities like changing water into oil and changing stone into gold. The king was so impressed by them that he made all Daoists his royal kin.

Monkey asks if he would be able to meet these immortal master's of theirs and the Daoists say it would be no trouble at all, and they will gladly introduce him after they finish their business out here. This official business being a roll call of all the bhuddist monk slaves. So Monkey takes the opportunity to ask what that is all about and receives the second half of the Kingdom's backstory. Which basically just amounts to the Monk's failing to summon any rain, so when the Daoist immortals came and fixed everything instead, all the Monks in the city were enslaved, with the Monastery's being wrecked.

So Monkey turns on the waterworks and says how terrible it is, after all he came to this city hoping to find his long lost uncle who became a monk. The Daoist's are willing to let Monkey do the roll call for them to see if his uncle is one of the monk's they have, and if he is, they will let Monkey take him with him. Of course as soon as Monkey shows up in his Daoist disguise the Monk's freak out and say that they are all here and working hard. Which Monkey of course finds hilarious because he's a jerk, and in order to have some more fun with them he tells them he is actually here looking for his relative. Which of course has all the monks crowding around him hoping they are it.

Once Monkey is done laughing at all the poor monks expense he gets down to business and asks them for their side of the story. Which pretty much just aligns with what he already heard from the Daoist's. We also learn some new information though, such as they are currently building an abbey for the Three Pure Ones with the plan to make the king youthful for ten thousand years. We also learn that the monks can't just run away because the king has their pictures displayed everywhere and a large reward offered if they ever try.

When Monkey casually say's they could all just die as a solution, the monks say that a lot of them have died, there used to be two thousand of them, and they are the last five hundred left. However every time they try and kill themselves the heaven's interfere, which Monkey finds unreasonable of the heavens. Turns out the gods aren't all cruel though, since they have been giving these monks a ray of hope in the forms of dreams telling them they just have to wait for the arrival of the Tang Monk and his Disciple the Great Sage Equal to Heaven, who will relieve them all of their torment.

Luckily Monkey is easily flattered and doesn't mind that heaven is just throwing the responsibility of all these monks onto him. I swear heaven is just trying to turn Sun Wukong into their errand boy by having all these issues pile up and just waiting for Sun Wukong to stop by and fix it for them, but I digress. So Monkey goes back to the Daoist's and is all like 'well what do you know- they all happen to be my relatives, I come from a big family. Soooooo we'll just all be on our way now.' The Daoist's unsurprisingly kick up a fuss about this, they can't just free all their slaves! Just think of the paper work! So Monkey decides to spare them any trouble and just takes out his rod and kills the both of them.

The monks upon witnessing this start freaking out because they are totally going to be the ones blamed for this. Monkey tries to tell them it's fine since he's the Great Sage they've heard so much about. However the monks aren't going to fall for that one! After all they've heard from the Star of Venus that the Great Sage is a hideous and scary looking monster! Monkey is both annoyed and pleased by this description so he decides to have a bit of fun with them. He's all like 'You're right, I'm not him, I just work for the guy- and hey look behind you isn't that him?' And once they all turn to look he jump scares them by reverting to his original form.

Now that the Monks know he is the real Sun Wukong, they take to following him around like little ducklings. Which gets old pretty quickly for Monkey. So he gives them all some magical protection in the form of his hairs that will transform into a clone of him upon the monks calling for 'Great Sage, Equal to Heaven' so they'll all scram. And indeed most of them do take off with their new protection, to wait to hear from Monkey who'll tell them when he resolves the situation so he can get his hairs back. A few of them stick around to help out though, which is nice of them.

Meanwhile Tripitaka has gotten bored waiting for Monkey to come back and has apparently scrounged up enough courage to come looking for him. Well done Tripitaka, I'm so proud of you. Anyways Monkey finally takes the opportunity to brief Tripitaka on the situation. The monks who stuck around also lead them to the last remaining Monastery in the city, which hasn't been torn down because it was built by the command of the previous king and still has his image inside.

So while Monkey tries to decide how to handle this situation, they all have a meal together before heading off to bed. Monkey however is feeling rather restless, so when he hears the sound of a gong in the distance he decides to investigate. He finds that the noise was coming from the new Three Pure One's abbey that the monks told him about earlier, and finds that they are all currently in the middle of a big ceremony. And Monkey who has never seen a heavenly themed banquet he didn't want to crash, decides that how he went wrong last time, was that he party crashed alone.

So Monkey returns to the Monastery to wake up Pigsy and Sandy to have them party crash with him. Obviously they don't wake Tripitaka though, because Tripitaka is a bit of a narc. Anyways Sandy isn't to happy about being woken up at who knows what AM, but Pigsy is on board as soon as he hears there will be food. Anyways the three disciples sneak out like any self respecting teenagers would do and make their way to the abby. In order to enjoy themselves properly however the other party guests have got to go. So Monkey whips up a violent windstorm inside, which the Three Immortals decide to take as a sign that they should probably call it quits there for the night.

Now that everyone is gone, they can properly indulge themselves, at least that's what Pigsy thinks before Monkey tries to whack him for it. Monkey thinks that they should still be a bit cautious of getting caught, so he asks about the statues of the Three Pure Ones. Pigsy explains that the statues are of: The Celestial Worthy of Commencement, The Daoist Lord of Numinous Treasures, and our good old Laozi. Monkey suggests that they disguise themselves as these three pure ones in order to blend in. Pigsy has no problems with this and immediately shoves Laozi off his seat in order to take his spot for himself. Right as Pigsy begins to dig in once again, Monkey stops him and tells him to properly dispose of the statues. And luckily Monkey happens to know the perfect place, and tells Pigsy to send them into the door down the hall on the right.Once Pigsy finds carries all the statues to the door, only to find that said room is the bathroom. Pigsy has a good laugh about this, before throwing the three idols into the toilet and rejoins the others.

After that the three indulge themselves into eating the abby out of house and home. Apparently Monkey doesn't really care for cooked food though, so he just has some fruit and hangs out. Meanwhile a young Daoist returns to the banquet hall in order to pick up his hand bell that he had left behind, only to hear the sound of breathing. This frightens the kid, so he tries to scramble out of the hall, only to slip and fall which of course causes Pigsy to burst out laughing. This frightens the young Daoist even more, so he immediately goes to fetch the Three Immortal Masters. And with that we end this chapter.

Current Sun Wukong Stats: Names/Titles: Monkey, The Stone Monkey, The Handsome Monkey King, Sun Wukong (Monkey awakened to the void), Bimawen (Banhorseplague), The Great Sage Equal To Heaven and Pilgrim Sun. Immortality: 5 + 94,000 years Weapon: The Compliant Golden Hooped Rod Abilities: 72 Transformations, Cloud-Somersault, Ability to transform his individual hairs, super strength, Ability to Summon Wind, Water restriction charm, and the ability to change into a huge war form, ability to duplicate his staff, ability to immobilize others, the ability to put others to sleep, and the Fiery eyes and Diamond Pupils, intimidating horses, churning large bodies of water, sleeplessness, seizing the wind, enhanced smell, discerning good and evil within a thousand miles, Spirit Summoning, lock picking, object transformation, distance reduction and vanishing in a flash of light. Demon Kill Count: 9+ Unknown Number of Minions Human Kill Count: 1008 God's Defeated: 22 + Unknown number Defeats: 5 Crime List: Robbery, Murder, Mass Murder, Arson, Theft, Coercion, Threatening a Government Official, Resisting Arrest, Assault, Forgery, Employee Theft, False Imprisonment, Impersonating a Government Official, Treason, attempted murder, failure to control or report a dangerous fire, desecrating a corpse, breaking and entering, trespassing, violating Tree Law, looting corpses, trading counterfeit goods, criminal threat, animal abuse, Assisting or Instigating Escape and Damage to Religious Property Cry Count: 7 + 3 fake cries Mountains Trapped Under: 4

Current Tang Sanzang stats: Names/Titles: River Float, Xuanzang, Tang Sanzang, Tripitaka and the Tang Monk Abilities: Curing Blindness, making branches point a certain direction (allegedly), reciting sutras, pretty privilege, memorization and Heart Sutra. Cry Count: 21 Tight Fillet Spell Uses: 31 Paralyzed by fear: 5 Bandit Problems: 2 Kidnapped by demons: 6 Falling Off Horses: 8

Current Bai Long Ma Stats: Names/Titles: Bai Long Ma (White Dragon Horse), Prince of the Western Ocean, and third prince jade dragon of the dragon king Aorun Abilities: Transforming into a human, a water snake, and a horse, eating a horse in one bite, flight, Magic of Water Restriction, Singing, and Sword Dancing. Cry Count: 1 Crime List: Arson, and Grave Disobedience. Contributions to the plot: 2

Current Zhu Wuneng Stats: Names/Titles: The Marshal of the Heavenly Reeds, Zhu Wuneng (Pig who is aware of ability), Zhu Ganglie, Pigsy, Idiot and Eight Rules. Weapon: Rake Abilities: 36 Transformations, parting water, fighting underwater, cloud soaring, size enhancement and CPR Demon Kill Count/Kill steals: 2 Kidnapped by Demons: 3 Human Kill Count: 1 Failed Flirtation/romances Attempts: 3 Cry Count: 1 Crime List: Sexual Harassment, Murder, Kidnapping, arson, defamation and Damage to Religious Property

Current Sha Wujing Stats: Names/Titles: The Curtain-Raising General, Sha Wujing (Sand Aware of Purity), Sandy and Sha Monk Weapon: Monster Taming Staff Abilities: Fighting underwater and Cloud soaring. Demon Kill Count: Unknown number of minions. Kidnapped by Demons: 2 Human Kill Count: 1 Crime List: Breaking a Crystal Cup, murder, desecration of a human corpse, and Damage to Religious Property

[heynikkiyousofine]

I managed to get two chapters edited tonight, so here is Chapter 4. Things are heating for Kagome and she begins to discover who she really is. Meanwhile, the Northern Kingdom is making plans.

I want to thank y’all again for your love and support! 

@keichanz @neutronstarchild

Inuyasha sighed as he set his feet to the carpeted floor. The dreams were becoming more and more intense, as if the blue eyed woman was in danger, wherever she was at. It made for an uneasy night, filled with tossing and turning. His inner demon clawing at him to protect her. The problem was he didn’t know where she was at and he couldn’t just go run off and look, especially now that Naraku was increasing his violence at their borders.

Rubbing his face in frustration, he strolled into his bathing chambers and grabbed the wash rag, as he felt a large aura approach from the west. Sesshomaru must be arriving soon, the asshole always liked to make an entrance. Knowing his father would want all of them together for breakfast, he hurried to get changed into something more appropriate. Grabbing a red button down tunic, he was just leaving his bedroom, when he bumped into Miroku in the hall.

“Monk.” Inuyasha nodded his direction.

“Good morning, friend. You’re up earlier than usual.” Miroku greeted him cheerfully.

“Couldn’t sleep well, besides the asshole is arriving soon. You know how Father is about family time.” 

Laughing, Miroku only nodded as they strolled down the hall towards the dining area. Sango, Izayoi and Ayame were already seated at the table, talking amongst each other, as Toga and Koga stood near the opposite doorway. Giving everyone a short hello, Inuyasha sat in his usual spot, to the left of his mother and rubbed his eyes tiredly.

“Dear, did you not sleep well?” Izayoi asked, a concerned look crossing her features.

“Nah, weird dreams, tossed and turned a lot.”

“If you don’t feel up to it today, maybe you should stay home and relax today. I’m sure with your brother arriving soon, we will discussing upcoming events in the meeting room anyways.”

Nodding again, he turned towards his plate. Peaches were always his favorite, the sweetness of the spring along with the beginning season. Grabbing one from the clay bowl in front of him, he heard foot steps approaching from the hallway.

“Sesshomaru! You made it!” Toga boomed, causing Inuyasha to wince, his ears flattening just a little bit, his head still pounding. 

“Yes, Father. Your letter was urgent, Kagura and Rin, come say hello.” Sesshomaru gestured to the group behind him, Rin squealing in her bright orange dress, as she ran to give her grandfather a hug. Laughing at the sweet sight, a very pregnant Kagura waddled into the dining area as gracefully as a seven month pregnant woman could. “Are those peaches?” She mused, giving Inuyasha a mischievous wink.

Chucking at her antics, he tossed his favorite sister-in-law a ripe peach before taking a bite of his own. Nodding a hello at his brother, Inuyasha watched as Sesshomaru carefully helped his wife into the seat before taking his own. A smiling Rin, being carried by Toga on his shoulders, came to sit at the front of the table.

“Father, she must be able to sit at a table normally, she is too big for your shoulders now.” Sesshomaru said, disapprovingly.

Grabbing the child, Toga sighed and rolled his eyes at his oldest. He always has had a stick up his ass. Setting the giggling girl next to Inuaysha, who gave her his half eaten peach and winked at her, just as her own mother did to him. Watching the scene unfold before her, Izayoi smiled at her family, before announcing everyone to dig in. 

Breakfast was the normal affair, only one slap this time from Sango to an embarrassed Miroku. Kagura and Ayame chatted about babies, while Inuaysha, Koga and Sesshomaru glared at each other most the time. Sighing to himself, Toga beckoned the house nanny to take Rin to the gardens to play. As the child said her goodbyes to everyone, Toga decided it was time to get to business. In the meeting room, a long wooden table sat, surrounded by chairs. It was when everyone took their seats, they began.

“Naraku is spanning an attack soon.” Toga stated, concern in voice. “He was seen in our borders just two days ago. It is time to force our hand.”

“Are you sure?” A too quiet Kagura asked, absentmindedly rubbing her belly. Sesshomaru covered her hand with his own, before turning towards the King, “If you are certain, we need to protect the borders. There are innocent people, many refugees from the fall of the Eastern Kingdom.”

Surprised by his care towards his subjects, Inuyasha stood to walk over to map hanging along the wall. Hung between bookshelves that wrapped the room, he took a red pin and marked the wildflower meadow, his heart giving a painful thump as he knew it was the same area as he saw the unknown woman. “It was here, that I smelt his men, graveyard and death. The forest burned around the area Miroku, Sango and I were camped at.”

“It was maybe half a mile from the eastern border.” Sango agreed, coming next to stand to Inuyasha, pointing at the border line on the map. “That is a long way from the castle that Naraku resides in at the moment, so they must either be looking for something or taking hostages. We know of the horse hanyou in that area, with the village, but didn’t have time to look closer or check on him.”

Nodding his head, “We know that when he killed the king and queen, he was absorbing their powers. I sent a scout out along with the page boy to scout the area of the fire. He came back with news of a fox family burned to death.”

Gasps filled the silent room, Koga standing angrily, fists clenching, “So, now he’s after demons too? What is it he is looking for exactly?” 

“I don’t think it’s a something, it’s a someone.” Izayoi added quietly.

Eyes turned abruptly toward, waiting for an explanation. Toga sighed, before gesturing everyone to sit again. If his wife’s suspicions were correct, and she was hardly ever wrong, it was her, he was going come after. “Everyone remembers what happened that night, over twenty years ago, correct?” Seeing their nods, meeting Inuaysha’s gaze, “We have reason to believe he is after the lost princess. It was rumored that she would grow the be extremely powerful, she also was to be the one to bring peace again across the kingdoms, uniting us in more ways than one. No one ever found any clue that she survived or died that night and I believe Naraku is searching for her. He is trying to claim as much power as he can until he does find her, so he can destroy her as well.”

Murmuring to themselves, Miroku stood, “If she is still alive, she wouldn’t be much younger than Prince Inuaysha and I now. How has she been able to keep herself hidden all this time? Fairy powers are set to grow as the person gets older, their wings growing in time with powers. She must have some type of concealment charm, making it that much harder to find her.”

“I agree Miroku,” Toga stated, “That is why I haven’t been able to locate her. To be honest, the last time we saw her, she was a babe, I don’t know what she would look like with or without a concealment. The only way to find her would be other mythical creatures to identify her. Most have been hiding in the forest for safety. They don’t really talk to anyone, or venture out to the villages.”

“She would still have blue eyes.” A quiet rumble came from across the room, where Inuaysha had remained seated. Raising his eyes quickly, he caught his father’s smirk and blushed a little. 

“Either way, whether Naraku is after her or not, we still need some kind of plan for when he does cross our borders again.” Koga spoke, still angry about the fox family. His wolves could be next.

“I agree. What did you have in mind Father?” Sesshomaru asked, looking to his father.

“Here’s the plan….” Toga smirked widely, everyone coming closer to see what he had in mind.

Izayoi sighed, knowing her husband’s wild antics were only the just beginning.

Kagome and Shippo were just beginning their walk through the forest that day, having felt better this morning about traveling so much in such a short time. As they walked, she kept a watchful eye on their surroundings, occasionally seeing other creatures flitter about. A while ago, she saw two unicorn, white and pure, with long, beautiful manes, grazing about near a stream. She watched as small butterflies flittered through the air near a few patches of wildflowers, reminding her of home.

At one point, she could’ve swore she saw a pointed green hat, hiding in a bush along the worn pathway. Smiling to herself, she tuned in to listen to whatever story Shippo was wilding telling her, walking a few spaces ahead. Unknown to her, a man with a chilling smile, followed closely behind.

“And theeeennnn, this old man, who looked like a ghost, but also a monkey, rose outta a pickle barrel, thanking the group for saving him! He was the monkey god! His followers, the three monkey sprites, were so embarrassed about leaving the sacred rock in the forest, while they scoured for nuts and….” Shippo waved his hands about, when a snap of branches caused them to stop abruptly.

Grabbing Shippo and putting him on her right shoulder, Kagome turned around just in time to see a small tan pouch fly through the air, heading straight at them. As soon as it landed, a foot or so in front of her, smoke began to bellow out about, making Kagome’s eye water instantly. “Shippo, run!” She screamed loudly. 

Scurrying up a tree as fast as his little paws could, Shippo watched as Kagome fell to her knees, eyes shut tight, as her head hit the grassy path below. Unsure of what to do, Shippo backed into the tree branches, hiding from sight. Looking to his right, he saw the two unicorn they had seen previously, watching from afar. A small flittering creature stood on the female’s head. Looking back down to Kagome, he watched as a short, fat man with a covering across his face, lift her lifeless body over his shoulders and began to take back here they direction they came from. Jumping from the branch, Shippo took off towards the direction of the stream, tears beginning to fall down his face.

Kagome wasn’t sure what was going on. She couldn’t move her body. She was aware of everything around her, but couldn’t speak or try to run away from this man. I refuse to be taken she thought angrily, her temper rising. 

“You cannot escape Mukotsu’s potion.” The man spoke gleefully. “I will make you my bride this very evening.” A small abandoned hut came into her sight and he carried her inside, bolting the door behind him.

So his name is Mukotsu, similar to Bankotsu. I wonder if he is with Naraku’s men. Wait, did he say bride?! No way, that’s disgusting! Kagome began to seethe, slowly moving her fingers trying to get some type of motion. The man, Mukotsu, set her on her stomach and laid a white, almost yellowed, veil upon her head. He turned and dug through his bag, not catching Kagome struggle to move her hands.

“You are very beautiful, your eyes are a color I have never seen before. Bankotsu didn’t tell me you were this pretty, and a virgin, no doubt. I think I will keep you to myself for a few days before taking you to Naraku.” Mukotsu began to laugh, grabbing a candle to light. “But first, we shall perform the wedding ceremony, then I will take you. Do not worry,” He said, grabbing her chin, noticing the fear in her eyes, “I will be gentle. I am not my brother. You will be happy with me.”

What is up with these men and their long monologues and trying to own me? Kagome thought dryly, squeezing her fists, getting the feeling back in her hands. As Mukotsu busied himself with whatever it was he was doing, Kagome shut her eyes and took a deep breath. Kaede’s words came across her mind, “Close your eyes. Breath in and out. I want you to look into your heart and feel the tug on your soul, one that reaches down within you. That is your power.” As she began to tug on the pull, she could feel her skin growing hotter, like an internal flame expanding around her.

Opening her eyes, she saw the man move back with wide eyes and a glowing, pink vibrant barrier surrounding her. Smiling to herself, she laid there, making her barrier as strong as she could, watching the now silent man, as hoof steps came barreling toward the hut.  The man, now terrified, cowered in the corner as Shippo burst though the door, riding atop a female unicorn, with what looked like a tiny woman with wings flying next to him. 

No one said a word as another unicorn, slightly bigger than the female, trotted up behind the three and lowered his horn towards Mukotsu. “How can this be? You aren’t supposed to be able to break through my poison barrier?” Before he could finish answering his own question, the large golden horn stuck through Mukotsu’s gut, drawing the life from his body. Kagome watched with wide eyes, but wasn’t frightened. These animals were good souls and had just saved her. The male withdrew his horn, picked up the now dead man by his collar and drug the lifeless body outside. Where, she couldn’t say, but she never saw the man again.

“‘Gome! Are you okay?” Shippo asked, jumping off his unicorn’s back, walking slowly toward Kagome’s barrier.

“Child, you can let your it down, it is okay. We will not harm you.” A soft, gentle voice came from above her. The little winged woman was flying right near her head, outside the barrier. Closing her eyes again, Kagome wasn’t sure exactly how to let the barrier down, hell, she wasn’t sure exactly how she did it in the first place. Taking a deep breath, she pulled the barrier inside of her, exhaling loudly, as Shippo rushed to hug her.  As more feeling in her neck returned, she turned her head into Shippo’s body and smiled.

“Young one, she’s been poisoned,” the tiny woman told Shippo, “We need to get some water. Althea here has healing powers in her tears. Argus will take you the stream, hurry back.” The flying woman instructed and he crawled atop the male unicorn and hung on tight, one hand carrying a bottle.

Althea, she guessed, lowered her body near Kagome, and began to sniffle around her ears, making Kagome giggle to herself. The woman set herself down on the floor in sight of Kagome’s vision and began to speak, “You are her, the lost one. We watched you as you began your journey this morning, following you along the way to make sure you were safe. Do not worry my child, whenever your friend returns, we will help you drink the healing tears to rid your body the rest of the poison. You can already begin to move, can’t you?”

Nodding, the little woman laughed, clapping her hands together, “You have marvelous healing powers inside of you, so his poison wouldn’t have lasted long anyways, but you were still strong enough for a barrier. You are more powerful than you realize.”

“Shippo….doesn’t…..know.” Kagome managed to ground out, her voice hoarse.

“Shhh child, we figured. We only allowed him to see us, once we realized you were in danger. You were very brave to send him away when you did. He only knows of us, but we will see to it he promises to keep our secret. You can see that he has a good soul.”

Kagome nodded, swallowing as best she could, as Shippo and Argus? she thought, came back into the hut. Shippo rushed over with the bottle and the little woman instructed him to hold the bottle near Althea’s eye. Three tears fell into the bottle, and Shippo helped lift it to Kagome’s lips to help her drink. Within seconds, Kagome smiled, She felt so much better already and could stretch! Slowly sitting up, she looked at Althea and nodded her thanks. In return, Althea, laid her head in Kagome’s lap. “What’s your name?” Kagome asked the little woman.

“Calliope. You must be Kagome Aureila.” Her voice becoming more excited.

Laughing softly, “I think you’re the first person to say my middle name so excitedly.”

“It is a beautiful name, your Mother Kaede knew of your beauty. It means golden one, which I feel is befitting for you.”

Blushing a little bit, Kagome played with Althea’s mane, as Shippo sat quietly beside her. Argus stood at the doorway, facing out, as if watching the area around him. “Are you a fairy?” Shippo asked, almost silently, his eyes betraying his awe.

“Yes, young one.” Calliope laughed, almost like bells. “We allowed you to see us to help your friend here. She is special.”

“She is! She’s my friend. My name is Shippo!” He told her excitedly.

Laughing together, Kagome turned towards Calliope. “We must be going soon, we need to get to the castle, but I am so incredibly thankful you saved me. That man, he was one of Naraku’s men. I didn’t know he was following me.” She admitted sheepishly.

“Kagome, just like the gnomes told us, we are here to protect you and help you. If you should ever need, call on us. You need some rest, today has been an eventful day for all of us. It is near sundown already. We will stay with you until you set out again tomorrow.”

Smiling at her, Kagome grabbed her knapsack, knowing Shippo probably grabbed it earlier, and began to get ready for the nightfall. Sometime later, as they lay on the worn out futon, Kagome held Shippo tight against her, gazing into the eyes of Althea, before shutting them completely, falling into a deep sleep.

“It is her.” Calliope whispered, stroking Argus’ ear at the doorway. “I just hope she knows what awaits her. We must help her in every way we can dear Argus. Tomorrow, I will tell my mother of her, how she hides and where she will go. Let us hope King Toga can protect her too, though I think after today, Kagome is beginning to recognize her own. She will be a great leader.”

Leaning his head toward her tiny hands, Argus snuffled in agreement. He remembered the fallen king and queen, how they were always so gentle with his kind. He would protect this new one at all costs.

[horrible-monstrosity]

mothermom 3 is a baaad animine

part 1: fuck these characters I thought the bit about not being able to go through a certain way because there's ants (that the player can't see) you wouldn't want to trample was going to introduce a theme of kindness and gentleness, but the game sure... tramples that early on by having your oh-so-kindhearted-and-mournable mother trample the fuck out of a sentient talking mole cricket to death right the fuck afterwards. Like, you were just talking to and playfighting with that mole mere seconds ago, and now it's thoughtlessly and meaninglessly dead, and it's supposed to be funny. And then you're supposed to forget all about it when mom dead because care and have emotions for this characters you've barely known for like one minute worth of interactions dragged out over like an hour. ok Then after bumbling along being a hollow little bag of nothing for like ten hours Lucas suddenly proves himself a detestable little cunt by just straight up stealing something he's told was a precious item, a yo-yo belonging to Porky's friend. Because, like... fuck Porky, I guess, in this geame franchise about love and heart and healing there's just this one fat kid we're all supposed to just disregard and piss and shit on and detest by default for no fucking reason just because the game narrative said so. Porky's existence was pretty weird already in Earthbound- he's apparently being abused by his fat parents, and aside from being a bit snotty and show-offy, he does at least make sure his little brother gets home safely at the beginning. He just seems like someone who needs a friend, which... actually makes Ness look like an asshole in retrospect for not just giving him some kind of help. It was kind of fine in that game because he was just a minor character, but making him some supervillain in the next game just because he was some dumpy abused kid is just... what the fuck. But anyway, whenever the plot expects us to care about Loocus and his dumb dead mom I just think about things like the yo-yo and the mole cricket and I lose all empathy. These people are assholes. You're trying to make sympathetic victims out of assholes and an asshole out of a sympathetic victim. Get your meaningless fucking sunflowers the fuck off my screen you bitch fuck

And then on the other hand there's Duster. The character who's absolutely the most deserving of empathy out of all these cunts and we're supposed to see him reembracing his shitty old life as something he should be really happy about. Like for one thing, the entire plot where he reenters the cast is stupid and makes no sense. When we hear he's at the club playing with the band, I could think of a lot of reasons for it- he could be laying low to protect the egg (seeing as how Tamzilly got pozzed and going back there would accomplish nothing), he could have just decided to fuck off and do something he actually enjoyed rather than go back to his shitty asshole dad, he could have somehow ended up far far away from the town and joined the band to make his way back home travelling with them/earn a living so he could get back. But no, before we even get to see him and see how he's acting Strong Female McDerpa Character tells us that he most definitely has amnesia. Because, like, why would he ever give up on his jackass dad and that braindead town otherwise? And then we meet him and it's exactly what we were unceremonously told it was, how rivetting. Then for some reason he decides that if he's really who you say he is he needs to... give up his life as a band member entirely to get the egg back. Can't just come with you to get the egg or until the adventure's over, nooo he needs to abandon his new life forever and ever and just go get fucked and fuck himself. fuck. let my man play guitar and also that "thiefs but good somehow because derp" shit is retarded and I hate it

Finally there's Girl Character who I refuse to even remember the name of because she's... nothing. Even her being kinda cunty about how she's sTrOnG and nOt lIkE ThoSe OthEr gIrlS is just bland. The other girls from the past two games were cute and girly and still credit to team with their strong psychic powers, why the fuck is she like this?

part 2: i've stopped giving a fuck about making this into parts fuck you What the fuck is the story of this game? You spend hours dicking around with a fucking timeskip and a ghost mansion or some shit and the game randomly namedrops the needles at some point, and then... the six or seventh chapter is just titled GUYS THE NEEDLES ARE ACTUALLY REALLY IMPORTANT YOU GUYS. Six or seven fucking chapters in, and we've barely gotten to anything resembling a coherent plot. What the fuck have we been doing up until this point again? Why the fuck do we even need the dragon needles plot anyway? Just have the main cast move from one pigmeng plot to another with things like the thunder tower, slowly working their way up the chain of command until they reach the final boss and his ultimate plan. You don't need to introduce an entire plot worth of fucking shit a third of the way into the game you fucking fuckers

The themes are a fucking dumpsterfire. Just plop some fucktarded work bad money bad bullshit in there and call it a day... Evil monkey man could have given that fucktard anything and got him to hide it in the well and it would have caused a ruckus when he came back and stole it. He could have convinced him to hide his grandma's ashes in the well- would the takeaway from that have been that honoring the dead bad? That's how fucking flat it is. If anything it just comes off as if the people of Tamzilly are just a bunch of mindkilled retards with no defence against humanity's own nature aside from shutting themselves off from the outside world entirely- the slightest contact with normal human interactions like money or having to contribute to society for a living, they all self-destruct. It's not le capitalism that made the old people home bad, it's whoever the fuck actually built it... which, if the outside world weren't basically strawmanned with the le evil pigmans and monkey abuser guy, would have been Tamzilly themselves. Which, because the strawmanning is so unbelievably absurd, makes it seem like Tazmilly is just a retarded place that somehow managed to make the old people's home this bad on their own or some shit I don't know I just can't buy it

Speaking of empathy, the game somehow manages to make the Pig Heil guys endearing even while they're actively working on the thunder tower that's cooking the dumbass town residents. Are they supposed to be abusing the electric catfish when they're cutely telling the things to hang in there and do their best? When Lucas got a jerb hustling the golems around and they managed to make it like a positive thing (the pigmangs encourage you, seemingly pay a decent wage, and even the doggo enjoys running on the treadmill once he gets into it), I thought there was going to be a tweest or at least some nuance, but the absurdity of the nice ol' piglins in the evil tower just makes it seem like it's just entirely unintentional, by writers who just have no idea what the fuck they're doing. The generic braindead modern-bad messaging and the generic brainless funny-characters-ha-ha sides of the writing clash horribly and somehow manage to mangle each other even worse than they already were.

The whimsicality is fucking dead. It's just all so forced and one-note... or, very consistently two-note in every single thing, because absolutely every single monster you meet is just two things funny stuck together. The first two games could glide smoothly between fighting enraged possessed zoo animals and weirdo people, weirdo fucking blended monsters that don't look like anything in particular, and then just sometimes the taxis that're used for decoration on roads will veer off course and engage you in battle. It's simultaneously wildly unpredictable and smoothly cohesive. And it's wonderful. But M3 is just... it leans over, shoves a megaphone down your throat and loudly informs you that "the PIGMEN have FUSED the THINGS toGETHER" and proceeds to beat you over the head with "this thing is THAT thing and THAT thing" over and over again. It's forced, mechanical, hamfisted and just not whimsical at all. And it's not just because the pigmengs aren't Giiigigigigiyasass (which could have been fixed by having them harness traces of Gig's power if that was the problem anyway), because it extends to absolutely everything- the ghosts at the mansion for example are just all absolutely fucking nothing. Like the main big bad boss is just "he's GHOST who THROWS FURNITURE and is BEETHOVEN and plays BEETHOVEN MUSIC". Because Beethoven is old thing therefore old mansion and ghosts, geddit? How fucking pathetic. Oh there's another thing, the weird aliens/conspiracy bent the first two games had is gone entirely. That's something that really helped it feel so wild yet at the same time cohesive... Actually, the game also seems to have done away with the surprise overworld sprite encounters like the aforementioned taxis. ... No wait that's right, they blew their load in the first levels with the rock lizards, which were fucking boring.

The dialogue fucking sucks. just fucking drags the fuck on endlessly for fucking ever to say barely anything, and barely anything you need to actually hear. Did Earthbound ever stop you to inform you that the TAXIS are AFFECTED by GIGUDUGDSAS like you couldn't figure that out yourself? No, they say Gigi's affected shit in a couple sentences near the beginning and let the rest of it speak for itself, pretty much. It's hard to give exact examples because I can't fucking remember any of this shit because it just slides right off my brain like ducks off of water, it's so bland and pointless. The sparrows drone on endlessly with worthless tutorial shit and then take an entire extra sentence to chirp at you and remind you that it's talking animals oh wow wacky!!!!!!! And when Duster decides he really is what you say he is he stands there going "ME IS DUSTER" over and over again like he's fucking Bimpson. You don't have anything interesting to say about finally figuring out who you really are? Okay... There's multiple fucking scenes of slow-scrolling walls of fucking text telling you absolutely nothng you don't already know except that the writers are wanking the fuck off over their own dumbass writing where in Earthbound there was like one scene of this towards the end that really just set up the emotions of the final sequences and underlined how far you'd come and shit and was a good moment of reflection and shit.

I also find it exceptionally intersting that all the people in Tazmilly before the timeskip have names and unique appearances, but anyone who only shows up after is just some generic design called "Man" or "Woman" or what have you. It feels weirdly dehumanizing towards outsiders.

This game fucking feels like the writers just fucking dumped a bunch of absolute shit down like they expected everyone to just eat it up, either because of the success of the previous games or because of the emotional manipulation the plot is laced with. The characters are all either detestable cunts or desperately need to be airlifted out into a better game pronto. And it's unsettlingly... modern in what's wrong with it. The capitalism-bad-tradition-good-mindkill-yourself messaging, the spunky female character(tm) who rubs it in your face how strongk she is (and who keeps talking even when you're controlling her while the other characters all become silent protagonists)... even the weirdly random spite towards characters the narrative has decided aren't "deserving" enough, or characters only being allowed to handle said spite and retain sympathy by cucking to it completely (Duster)... I suppose that's just a sign that these sorts of writing problems and hangups are older than that and have just become more popular/visible in recent times, but it's still really fucking weird to see.

I feel like I should be concerned that the team behind the Earthbound series also started Gamefreak and created Pokemon, though since the split obviously happened before Mo 3 I don't know how much overlap there is between staff members there specifically... seeing as how these exact same sort of writing problems have started to rear their heads in the Pokemon franchise, starting weakly in gen 6 (cough zinnia cough abandoned ship plotline cough) and absolutely fucking exploding in 7 (cough LILLIE COUHG FUCKING TAPUS COUGH AGAG V HIC CUFGH VOMIT AAGHK); I haven't yet fully witnessed gen 8 but everything I've seen of it so far looks no better, except there's no shill character (Marnie is just kinda... there), just suffering. But that's all for another post.

welp time to go watch the remainder of the game until my brain rots off

[spectraspecs-writes]

Korriban - Chapter 92 (Carth, Jolee)

Link to the masterpost. Chapter 91. Chapter 93.

@averruncusho @ceruleanrainblues @chubbsmomma @strangepostmiracle thank you for reading, you get a tag. @skelelexiunderlord thank you for support, you get a tag.

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Archaeologists and scouts are a similar breed. While I would follow a set of tracks to my own doom, archaeologists are certainly prone to going too deep into a tomb or a ruin and not being able to get out. We’re both drawn to nesting sites in our own way - mine to animal, them to humanoid. We get along with others of our same profession, despite our client, but we keep our secrets just the same. And we both think of the other as far too obsessive over our chosen passion. There are archaeologists in the Valley, but the tombs are closed. Not sealed - you can still get in - but they aren’t open for archaeologists to go in and dust to their hearts’ content. Which strikes me as odd. Like I said to Thalia, I can’t resist a cave. Or a forest. Or a valley. Or a prairie. Really, any place I might conceivably find life, I can’t resist. And I’ve never met an archaeologist who could resist a tomb.

I want to know more. But first I need to meet with Lashowe before she gets herself killed.

She’s standing near the edge of the Valley, in front of one of the tombs. When she sees me she rolls her eyes. “Finally!” she groans, “If you were any later in showing up, we would have had to abandon this.” Chill out, it’s been twenty minutes. Thirty, tops. “I've been calling to the tuk'ata mother in their language. She should respond fairly… ahhh, here she comes now.” The tuk’ata matriarch is flanked by two smaller tuk’ata. She’s scarred, and her horns have been damaged. “Get ready,” Lashowe says, “This will not be easy… she’s a tough beast.”

I stop her. “Let me give this a shot first,” I say, and she steps back. Carth holds his blaster ready, in case the matriarch jumps at me. Animals have a different body language than people, but most animals have learned to recognize ours. Humans tend to approach aggressively, full-on body, no weak spots presented, arms raised as a threat. It’s different for every animal, of course, but most of them don’t like eye contact and prefer it when your head is low. I approach her slowly, my feet sideways with each step, my head and eyes lowered, and my torso open to her. She’s still a predator, and still a danger to me, but the other three are ready if she attacks. I can handle this otherwise. She’s confused - her head tilts at me. But her posture is still defensive. My hands are low but open, and when I get close enough I kneel into the dust. I don’t reach out to touch her. That would be a threat. I reach out with the Force. An animal wouldn’t understand a holocron. Only that she has something we want. We do not want her pups. We do not want her food. We do not want her land. We simply seek a human trinket from her den, and then we will leave her in peace.

And then Lashowe cuts her head off. The matriarch was surprised. She didn’t suffer. Carth reacts quickly and shoots the other two. Okay. Calm over. Lashowe, what the hell?! “I said let me handle it!” I shout at her.

“And I told you that the holocron was in her gullet - she ate it!” Lashowe shouts back, “I thought you were going to get close enough to kill her, not reason with her! What sort of Sith are you?”

Well, I’m not one. “The kind who doesn’t want to add ‘animal cruelty’ to her conscience!”

“You saw her, she didn’t suffer!” Lashowe cuts the matriarch open at the stomach and pulls out a small crystal. “And here is the holocron,” she says, examining it, “Such a small thing to be so valuable and require so much effort to obtain. I'll just run along, now, and give this to Master Uthar. I'll be sure to tell him of your contribution, naturally.”

No. She won’t. “Wait,” I say, “We’ll go to Master Uthar together.”

“Forget it,” she says sharply, “I’m not waiting up for you. That wasn’t our plan, anyway.”

Carth’s hand rests on his blaster, Jolee’s on his lightsaber. “The plan was we both get credit,” I remind her.

“Back off, I’m warning you!” She reaches for her own lightsaber now. “I’m not giving this up!”

“No more arguing,” I say firmly, “We take it back together.”

“Over my dead body!” she shouts, and she comes at me with her lightsaber. Mine comes out just as quickly. She’s scrappy, but not much of a fighter. She relies on agility rather than strength, but I have both. I don’t even need Carth or Jolee to help me. I take her down, no problem, and take the holocron. I take a moment, to honor the tuk’ata matriarch, and then I stand and shake a little bit. Trying to get off the dust of this world. That sort of brutality is a little hard to believe, even from a Sith. I know I shouldn’t be surprised. Lashowe barely showed any consideration for people, much less animals. But once - you know? Just once I’d like to meet a Sith who isn’t an asshole. You can be evil without being an asshole. You can wreak havoc on a galactic scale without kicking puppies for fun. Hell, Sith scouts weren’t like that. Maybe they didn’t all view an ecosystem as a living breathing thing rather than a resource, but they weren’t assholes. They weren’t evil, either, so I guess they don’t count. I can’t fault them for having a conservation view over my preservation view, I guess, it’s a valid enough position even if I don’t agree with it.

I take a breath. “We should probably take this back to Uthar while I’m thinking about it,” I say, “Then, I could go for some lunch, you guys?” They both agree so we head back.

-----

Master Uthar hasn’t moved from earlier - he’s still meditating in the central chamber, but he acknowledges me when I approach. “Greetings, young one,” he says, “I sense you have something to show me, yes? Something to earn you prestige.”

“Yes,” I say, “I have found a Jedi holocron.” I hand him the crystal.

He chuckles. “I had heard that such an artifact existed,” he says, examining the crystal, “Tell me, young one, did you acquire this device by yourself?”

“No,” I say.

“So I see.” He doesn’t seem to hold it against me. Like he knew anyway. “And Lashowe… does she yet live?”

“No,” I say, “She’s dead.”

He laughs gladly. Which is weird - I thought he liked her. That was the impression I got yesterday. “Well done!” he says, “You gained an artifact through trickery and eliminated an opponent at the same time. That is deserving of great prestige!” Ah, that’s what he was glad of - I was displaying Sithy behavior. “I also heard you ventured into the shyrack caves - tell me, what did you find there?”

“I dealt with the renegade students,” I say.

“Ahh,” he says, “The ones I ordered executed for their mutiny? It’s done then?”

Well, ultimately, yes, they aren’t a problem anymore. “It’s done,” I repeat, “They are… gone.” Not a lie, really.

“Indeed?” he says, his infection raised with just a hint of doubt, “We checked the caves and found only a couple bodies.”

“There was a large beast in the caves - perhaps it ate them?” I offer, trying to blame the terentatek. Not like anyone else will find it. If the caves are that dangerous, I doubt a lot of people go that way.

He shrugs. “Ah, it is just as good, I suppose,” he says, “The lesson is learned, I believe. Go now - you have done well, but you have not impressed me enough to declare you the victor.” And he returns to his meditation

We go for lunch in the cantina - there is a cafeteria of sorts in the Sith Academy, but frankly, I don’t want to deal with the sort of childish antics I’m sure happen there. I just want to eat in relative peace. Or at least Carth and I eat there. Jolee goes back to the ship for some reason. I don’t get why - he was complaining about the synthesizer on the Hawk so why he would choose to get lunch there is beyond me. But, whatever, he’s an adult, I won’t stop him. I figure I’ll just buzz him on the comm when we’re ready to go back.

Carth finishes first - he just got some sort of sandwich - but I’m going slower with my bowl of soup. Idly scrolling through what I skimmed off Master Uthar’s datapad. And Carth is watching me. He’s trying to be subtle about it but failing miserably. And I’ll admit it’s sort of nice? But also kind of creepy, so rather than just sit and live with it, I bring it up. “You’re staring - you need something?”

“Hmm? Oh, no,” he says quickly. Awkward bunny man. “Sorry.”

“You know, come to think of it, you’ve been watching me a lot lately,” I say. He’s been ready for a surprise fight a lot. “Why is that?”

His cheeks go red. “Oh, I…” he says softly… “thought you hadn’t noticed.”

I scoff playfully. “If you were any more obvious about it, your eyes would fall out of your head.”

His redness gets even worse and he smiles sheepishly. “Err... I'm not that bad, am I?”

“Not bad for a monkey-lizard, no, not bad at all.”

He smiles and laughs. “Damn it, woman, if you keep hounding me I'm going to put you over my knee and teach you a lesson!” he jokes.

Whoa! That’s the most overt thing he’s ever said to me! “I’d like to see you try!” I laugh.

He shakes his head. “You just wait, you’ll get yours.”

“I’m sure I will!”

“At any rate,” he says more seriously - not like serious, serious, but he’s not joking anymore, we’re just two close friends chatting over lunch. I mean, hopefully more than friends, but as it stands, anyway - “I wasn’t ogling you. I've just been admiring you.” Don’t melt, Rena, you’ll spill your soup all over your lap and kill the mood. “I've been watching you in action. Your- your skills. You have a natural talent that is incredible. Not that, ah, all I do is watch you or anything. I don't mean anything by it.”

I raise my eyebrow. “Any other observations?”

“Well,” he says slowly, considering his words, “maybe a few. I hope you don’t mind if I keep those to myself.”

“You don’t have to be so embarrassed, Carth,” I say, “although it is adorable. I don’t mind if you watch me.”

He relaxes, relieved, and lets out a short laugh. “Why didn't you tell me that sooner? You would have saved me a lot of trouble!”

“Give up the chance to give you trouble? As if!”

He laughs again. When he calms down a bit, he continues. “I will say one thing, though,” he says, “We've come a long way with your help. Whether it's the Force or fate or just dumb luck… I'm glad you're here.” Don’t melt, no melting. “We probably would have never made it this far without you.” He scratches the back of his head. That’s his apology scratch, I know that well. “I, uh… I should have said this long before, instead of doubting you. I, uh, hope you can forgive me.”

I smile softly at him. “You already apologized once, Carth.”

“And you accepted it, but that doesn't mean I'm forgiven,” he says just as softly, and I love his soft voice, “I'd like to be.”

“Why do you need my forgiveness, anyway?” I ask, casually going back to my soup.

“Because you're an impressive and beautiful woman,” he says, “In some ways… good ways… you remind me of my wife and I'd like to make things right between us.”

Beautiful? I mean… he’s called me that before, but always more like a flirty nickname, never as… never like that, I mean… whoo, really hard not to melt right now… Is my face red? “You… you think I’m beautiful?”

He smiles. “I'll, uh, take that as a yes,” he says. He’s also trying to play it cool. “I’m glad that’s settled.” He’s probably wishing he hadn’t finished his sandwich so quickly so he’d have some way to avoid meeting my gaze.

He starts to say something but before he can get a word out I reach over the table and kiss him. He’s startled at first but then he leans into it. I could get used to this.

Suddenly Jolee clears his throat. Where the hell did he come from? He’s smiling, but God, this is kind of embarrassing, which is weird because I’ve been talking to him about this, it’s not like this is a surprise for him. But Carth and I break away from each other and try to casually regain our composure. Even though clearly neither of us was done with the other. “Don’t stop on my account,” Jolee says, which makes it even worse. “I’d ask if you were ready to get back to the Valley, but it looks like you’re still eating.”

“Yeah,” I say awkwardly, “Soup.”

He sits down next to Carth, who thankfully takes over the conversation. “What were you doing at the Hawk?”

“Nothing important,” he says with a shrug, “I wanted to put on a different pair of boots. You’d be surprised how much the wrong pair of boots can hinder your connection to the Force.”

“Seriously?” Carth says in disbelief, “Boots can limit your abilities.”

“Not like that,” I say, “It’s not like you can’t fight if you’re wearing the wrong shoes. But some boots are better for dirt and some boots are better for rocks. If you’re uncomfortable, then it’s just harder to hear the Force. Right?” Jolee nods. Carth still looks skeptical. “I swear to God.”

“You spent a month in the Enclave on Dantooine learning about boots?”

“Not just boots - it’s… a Jedi’s strength flows from the Force, and if your feet hurt, then there goes some of your focus. Not just feet, either - any sort of pain or discomfort. But there’s a reason we wear robes instead of armor. It’s not just a fashion choice.”

Carth blinks a bit. “Okay,” he says finally, throwing his hands up in defeat, “Any other strange Jedi things I should know about? Special socks?”

“Ah, I can’t tell you about the special socks,” I say teasingly, “Jedi secret.”

“Jolee, she’s not serious, is she?”

Jolee starts to open his mouth, but I interrupt. “He’s not a Jedi, he can’t tell you about the socks.” Jolee smiles at me. Carth looks between me and Jolee, eventually figures out I’m bluffing, and just gives up. I go back to my soup. But now I’m curious. “Why did you leave the Order, Jolee?”

Jolee gives a small chuckle. “Who said I left the Jedi?”

“You did,” I say, “You said you weren’t a Jedi anymore.”

“Well, technically, I was never a Jedi, I was only a Padawan,” he corrects, “Not that that makes a difference to most. But as for the order, itself… no, I never left it. It left me.”

“Hang on,” Carth says, “You’re not a Jedi?”

If I had asked that question, he would bluster at me a bit, but not Carth. “I follow the Jedi Way and use the Force. That makes me a Jedi last time I checked. But the Order, itself, the Jedi Council and so forth… no, I'm not a part of that and haven't been for a long time. And good riddance, I say!”

“You say the Order left you,” I say.

Jolee groans a bit. “You know what I hate?” he says. Then he tosses his head a bit. “Well… you know, lots of things, really. But I'm old and easily annoyed. But that's beside the point. What I really hate are how most people view the Jedi. Everyone thinks the Jedi are perfect, that they can do no wrong. They think the Jedi Council is completely incapable of injustice.”

“I don’t think that,” Carth says with a shrug.

“Hmm,” Jolee hums, “No doubt you've been on the receiving end of Jedi justice at least once, eh?” Has he? I guess the Mandalorian Wars. “And I'm not even talking about how some of us fall to the Dark Side,” he says to both of us, “No, that's plenty indication of our fallibility, but it's something else entirely. No, I'm talking about how, more often than not, your average robe-wearing Jedi can try to do the right thing and still be completely wrong.”

I shrug. “Nobody can be right about everything.”

“That's true,” he says, “but it's not what I meant. I guess I'm not being clear, am I?” He scoffs. “Come to think of it, I don't have to be clear. Someone my age is entitled to ramble, dammit!” (Carth chuckles a little - he isn’t as used to Jolee’s manner of speaking as I am.) “But for your sake I'll try to explain. I'll tell you a little tale about a Jedi Master I once knew. Hortath, I think. Or was it Hartoth? I could never get it straight.” He shakes his head. “Master Hortath was a kindly old Jedi who meant well, but the most near-sighted thing in the Core, I swear. He would walk into walls, knock over tables, mistake apprentices for rancor beasts, that sort of thing. And he was too proud to submit to proper treatment. Some used to counsel him and urged ‘Use the Force, Master Hortath. Allow the Force to see for you.’” Now there’s a solution. “But he refused to believe that his eyes were failing. He simply squinted more and more as the years went on, the other Jedi resignedly passing it off as the amusing quirk of a compassionate old man.”

“Ah, like blustering on with stories from the past,” I tease.

“I’m not finished yet! Now shush!” Jolee mock-scolds, “So one day a young Padawan meets Master Hortath in the courtyard and, not knowing of his blindness, asks him for directions to the Council. Quite sure of himself, Hortath gave the lad directions… which happened to lead outside and away from the Enclave. The Padawan is confused, naturally. He asks if Master Hortath is sure, and of course Master Hortath says that he is. The Padawan suggests that perhaps he should ask someone else… but the proud Hortath now feels insulted. He tells the Padawan to take the route he prescribed and no other. Rather dejectedly, the Padawan did as he was told... and so ended up leaving the Jedi Order forever.” Carth grimaces a bit. “It was decided that the boy's fate was to leave the Order anyway… though whether that was out of respect for Hortath or because the boy went on to something else, well, we'll never know.”

Carth and I are both silent for a moment, then Carth asks, “So… you knew this Master Hortath? Or the Padawan?”

Jolee shakes his head. “No, no. Both of them were before my time. Well before the Sith wars, even.”

“I don’t think I understand…” I say, and Carth indicates the same.

Jolee sighs. “The tale is about blindness and I thought the point was clear,” he says, “At any rate, you think about it. You're the one who asked why the Jedi left me, remember? Finish your soup - my feet are itching for a traipse through a tomb.”

“But you didn’t really answer the question,” Carth objects.

“He never answers the question,” I say, and Jolee harrumphs, “Amusing quirk of an old man.” I have some soup to finish.

[mazojo]

Favorite Sohma’s

Hi yes, uh, I needed a space to rant about fruits basket because I am still very broken so yea

Disclaimer that this is just my opinion and I still love them all very much, just needed to get this out of my system ayee. Also I will include a song that reminds me of them because I am that invested in this so yeaaaa

14- Kagura Sohma

Boy by Little Mix - “I know what you’re worth girl, you know what you got”

I rank Kagura as my least favorite just for the fact that I cant really relate to her I guess? I mean, she is okay, I think she is cute and all but I don't think violence is the way to go about her struggles and she is so much more worth than she gives herself credits for. In the end, I dont think I full understood her big struggle as much as the other characters and thats why she is at number 14, although I want her to be happy and full of love and support like the others ;w;

13- Akito Sohma

My Eyes by Neil Patrick Harris and Felicia Day - “But it’s plain to see, Evil inside of me is on the rise”

Akito is a complicated one for me man. Of course, in the beginning and throughout the manga you learn to really dislike her because she did some terrible things, specially to my baby boi Yuki and eye-.... But then when we learn more about her and everything she has gone through we start sympathizing with her but i..... cant just forget everything she did. I get she was traumatized since she was little, she became dependent on the zodiacs because of her father’s words and mother’s behaviour thus becoming a broken person with this big responsibility she didn't ask for. It really ticks me however, how much pain the others underwent through her, and even though its a healing process, the traumas and everything they suffered is still there which is why I cant place her higher. I do not hate her by any means, but she isnt my favorite person on this list either. I do ship her with Shigure and I think they help each other out, and they grow from the other.

12- Shigure Sohma

Used to the Darkness by Des Rocs - “Now would you pray before you twist the knife? Yeah, would you take my hand and take a life?”

*big sigh* Shigure is also a complicated one for me. It may be my big dumb energies showing but I didnt fully get a grasp on his character? I know he was doing everything for Akito’s sake to liberate from the curse and be with her so she is finally a “woman” but he always acted a bit shady xD?? I would have love to know more about his backstory, we dont get much from his motivations and character other than the perverted aspect and that he loves Akito lmaoo. I do think he is hilarious and I love the dynamic he has with Hatori and Ayame lol

11- Ayame Sohma

Starships by Nicky Minaj - “Starships were menat to fly, Hands up and touch the sky “

To be honest I am pretty neutral about Ayame’s character. He is hilarious and I love how Yuki insults him every tike he gets the chance lolll. I like how throughout the story he tries to change to become a better brother to Yuki and person even though he is pretty extra most of the time about it. He has a good heart and even though he made some mistakes he owns up to them which in my opinion, makes him a good character <33 I love his friendship with Hatori lmaooo they balance each other out sooo well

10- Kureno Sohma

Taking Chances by Celine Dion - “Never knowing if there's solid ground below, Or a hand to hold, or hell to pay”

I really like Kureno! He has gone through quite a bit and he needs a hug. I am sad thinking how most of his life he lead it pretty similarly to Yuki’s, apart from everyone and super enclosed to his relationship with Akito due to him breaking the curse and feeling bad about it. I do wish we would have gotten to know more about his personality and story, if we did I would have definitely ranked him higher! He really reminds me of Tohru’s father and I think Uotani is perfect for him <33 would have love to see more about the two of them and hopefully they expand upon it in the anime

9- Ritsu Sohma

Waving Through a Window by Ben Platt - “On the outside, always looking in, Will I ever be more than I've always been?”

Okay okay so I have a lot of thoughts on Ritsu. Manga Ritsu is okay, I really dont have much of an opinion on him due to him appearing only in a few chapters, I feel like from the Sohma’s, he is the one we get the least information about. But then the anime episode came out where they presented Ritsu and I thought they gave him so much more life and rounded personality where, I get to relate a lot to him? I am someone who is constantly apologizing for absolutely no reason and seeing him be all anxious and stressed about others interactions is big relate to me and I stan. I also think the whole dressing as a woman plot line is better dealt with in the anime and I hope we get to see more about his insecurities and troubles in the future because he is truly a very interesting character! I stan my one (1) anxious monkey.

8- Kisa Sohma

Mean by Taylor Swift - “But you can take me down with just one single blow, But you don't know what you don't know”

Cinnammon rooooooolll. Kisa is such a cutie. I dont have much to say other than my mood every time I think about Kisa is hugging her like Tohru does because she is babyyyy. Also her bullying story is one I think many viewers and readers can relate a lot to and such an important topic I think they covered pretty well and I loveee. Also her and Hiro are one of my favorite ships because they work so well and asdfgh in this household Kisa is a queennn.

7- Isuzu Sohma

Take me Home by Jess Glynne - “Came to you with a broken faith, Gave me more than a hand to hold”

I really like Isuzu!! I am pretty bummed we wont get to meet her in season 1 of the Anime reboot but hopefully in the nest season! She is quite a complex character that I didnt really understand at the beginning but once we see how much she loves Haru and all that she does in order to protect and keep him save she really went up my list. She has gone through so much, from her shattered reality from her parents, Akito threatening Haru, her being locked up withour given any food.... Isuzu is so strong and one of the best build characters in the series and I am super excited to see her in the anime!

6- Hiro Sohma

Time to be a Man by The Airborne Toxic Event - “And it’s time to be a man, Tell me how does that go?”

My bastard childdd <33 He is such an asshole and such a sweetie at the same time. His whole inner struggle of not feeling like a good enough man for Kisa is so heartwhelming and I think it really makes sense to the type of person he is. The flashbacks of him telling Akito how he loves Kisa and the feeling of uncertainty and impotency when seeing the girl he loves being hurt by his actions and wanting to be good enough for her even though he is more than enough sdfghjasd. I am also a softie for older brothers who love their families *cough cough* spoiler alert: Momiji *cough cough* that I love me one angry boi

5- Hatsuharu Sohma

4 Seasons by Rex Orange County - “I saw myself as less and you so high above me”

Cow boil! apart from the fact that I love love loveeee Haru’s design, I think he is also such a well build character! He is not only supportive of everyone (aka the loves of his life, Rin and Yuki xDD) but he is so interesting! His split personalities give him a cool trait (even though dark Haru doesnt appear much in the end of the manga) and I love how he helps everyone and makes sure those he loves are protected at all cost and happy. He is Rin and Yuki’s fan club stan leader and I am co-leader so we been stanning aye

4- Hatori Sohma

Fireflies by Owl City - “I'm weird 'cause I hate goodbyes, I got misty eyes as they said farewell”

Boooooy the next four to come are my absolute favorties and I would die for their happiness and love so *takes big breathe* I LoVE hAtORi sOhMAAa. To be honest when we first meet him I didnt like him much. I thought he was your usual dark deep character who doesnt talk much because he is too cool for everyone (which, he is) and that was that. But boi was I in for a riDE. His story about having to erase the memories from the woman he loves is one of the ones I cried through the most. I put myself in his shoes and wonder if I had to erase the memory of the person I loved the most, make them forget they ever met me, all our happy times, sad times, angry times.... No matter what its one of the most saddening moments and the whole scene is heartbreaking, which makes me love Hatori even more for the fact of how strong he is and selfless. He puts himself before others and he need to know he also deserves happiness and I am glad in the end he got it because homeboy needed a break ;w;. I also adore Ayame’s relationship with him xDD, he is like his idol and big same.

3- Kyo Sohma 

This song saved my Life by Simple Plan - “Sometimes it feels like nobody gets me, Trapped in a world where everyone hates me”

Top three babyyyy. We have now my angry cat boi™. I mentioned it before but going into the reboot firsthand without reading the manga nor watching the first anime, I thought Kyo was going to be my absolute favorite character. I knew he would be the angry boi who was soft inside and probably had a tragic backstory™ that made him act the way he did and I am a sucker for those types of characters. And I love Kyo, I really do, specially when we find out more about his struggles and past. The exclusion he felt throughout his life for being the cat, the abandonment, feeling like he had no one and was ready to die because he didn't have any source of genuine happiness (well, apart from Kazuma ya know but stillll). Then he finds Tohru, the girl he promised to protect, the one that reminded him of the woman that helped him out all those years ago and I just.... poetic cinema at its finest. Kyo and Tohru make one of my favorite couples and I love how flustered and In absolute l o v e he is with her and Kyo is great man....

2- Yuki Sohma

Nandemonaiya by RADWIMPS - “Crying even when you're happy, Smiling even when you're feeling lonely”

THIS WAS ONE OF THE HARDEST DECISIONS OF MA ENTIRE WEEB CAREER SO EXCUSE WHILE I SCREAM. Yuki Sohma won my heart and entire soul throughout the series. I liked him from the start but he wasn't my favorite favorite at the beginning you know? I thought he was isolated and thats why he didn't have much friends and he was perfect and what not but boi was I wrong and happy about it. I think one of the reasons Yuki is one of my favorite characters in fruits basket is how much I can see myself in him. Having the constant need of perfection while also wanting to connect with others but finding it hard is something I personally struggle with and every time we learned a little bit about his backstory my heart broke. Everything Yuki had to go through, the rejection, the isolation, understanding that you are loved and not a burden, falling in love with someone, finding that figure of a mother/friend he always yearned for.... The complexity of Yuki’s character is astounding and I love my rat boi so so much.... When he joins the student council, finding his little group of friends and opening up to a more carefree and true Yuki, forgiving those around him and going and eye- YuKI IS MY BABY RAT BOI AND STAN HIM OR PERISH FROM HERE ;w;

1- Momiji Sohma 

Eine Kleine by Rachie - “If I were to go through life living just to take somebody else's place, Then I would rather have been born as a pebble, living out my peaceful days “

*Clears throat* *trumpets sounds intensify* *stands on podium* I LOVE MOMIJI SOHMA WITH ALL MY HEART AND HE MUST BE PROTECTED AT ALL COSTS. Thats it. Thats what I want you to get out of this post. I don't know if this is maybe an unpopular opinion-ish but Momiji’s backstory of his mother rejecting him, saying awful things, him having to accept being forgotten by his mother and sister whom he loved, not even being able to live with his family, is one of the most heartbreaking ones of fruits basket. Maybe its like what I said with Hiro and I am a sucker for big brothers that love their families, the sad smile of Momiji, my baby, angel, perfection when he sees his family and not being able to be with them, him loving Tohru but letting her go and be with Kyo because its her happiness that matters to him and I am-..... The selflessness of Momiji and how much of a sweetheart he is, his heart of gold and always being there for those around him, that moment where Akito was looking for Tohru and he got hurt trying to defend her.... Momiji is one of my all time favorite characters. He is a precious bean and I will never not shut up about my love for ma boi <333

Anyways that was long and ramble but I just needed to shout this somewhere because I've been missing they //rip

[natsspammityspamspamham]

Dino Watches Anime (Nov 28)

Obviously, I’m not going to list the ongoing anime that I’ve still watching as that hasn’t changed much. I will put the ones that I recently completed though!

Recently Completed!

Youkoso Jitsuryoku Shijou Shugi no Kyoushitsu e

I was going to put this in chronological order until I realized that I just wanted to get this piece of crap out of the way. Seriously, I regret watching this show. I HATE how it’s the highest rated out of all of them! It’s almost an 8/10! I gave it a 4! Here’s why:

This anime started out okay. I liked the sound of its premise. I liked the idea of teenage psychology being pushed but not as life-or-death but more of status. Because believe it or not, sometimes a person values their image and status more than their life. That plot was... kind of there? I don’t know. It was mostly boobs and ass. Those jiggle physics don’t stop here. They make sure to remind you that every character in this anime has large assets and asses every two seconds. 

The characters are probably the most deplorable part of this show. They were so bad. Seriously, we just took the worst parts of every trope and threw them together! The “I don’t talk to anyone. I don’t have any friends. I’m EDGY and don’t belong here. I’m this close to selling myself to Orochimaru for power”, the “cardboard houseplant that’s so monotone that it hurts”, the “double-sided dipstick that will take out a person’s intestines and use them as a jump rope”, and the “arrogant older brother who is way more accomplished than his sister”. We also have more assorted bastards, but those are the main ones. The characters ruined everything. Their interactions were so coarse, forced, hard to watch, and everything is executed so poorly that it made me wonder whether people rated this for ulterior motives or not. Everyone here is an asshole. 

Let’s look at the first three characters:

“cardboard houseplant that’s so monotone that it hurts” - Shoya Chiba isn’t even a bad voice actor. He does give me Hiroshi Kamiya vibes though (not a bad thing), but his voice acting in this show was hard to listen to because his expression didn’t change and neither did his voice. Seriously, over 12 episodes, he has that same expression. Someone threatened to harm him, and he’s still looking like a dead fish. I can’t describe how much worse it is to have a main character whose facial muscles don’t move. He has no personality.

“I don’t talk to anyone. I don’t have any friends. I’m EDGY and don’t belong here. I’m this close to selling myself to Orochimaru for power” - I like her design, but what else is going for her? How many times does she need to say, “I don’t need friends. I just want to move up in school.” Bitch, I get it. You can calm down. You keep doing things for other people but you say you don’t care? She arguably gets the most growth. Akari Kito voiced her and it was just like how any other person on earth would voice this character. 

“double-sided dipstick that will take out a person’s intestines and use them as a jump rope” - She’s exactly what she sounds like. She’s in that gif. She’s sweet and nice until you catch her being not that. Yurika Kubo did a pretty alright job voicing her. Nothing really to say here besides I hated her with a burning passion.

Music was alright. Animation was... Lerche standard. Nothing special. It looks nice until you are flashed so many times that you can’t tell what this show is even about anymore.

This is one of the worst shows I’ve watched in a while. It wastes a perfectly good premise and voice cast.

Kekkaishi

2006 was a good year for anime, and this probably got swept over because Code Geass took the fall season by storm. But this anime was genuinely good. I wanted a good shonen/comedy with action and this filled that void and more. I even read some of the manga before realizing that I just don’t like reading manga that much.

I genuinely like the cast of characters and find them amusing. I also like how they incorporate a stay-at-home dad who wears an apron and no one judges him because it’s what they see as normal. We have a female character whose not being sexualized every few seconds. Sunrise did cheat a little with other female characters though because the manga made their proportions okay while the anime decided to make them look more like a Barbie rather than a human. The animation was pretty okay too. For 52 episodes, it did some pretty okay stuff but with today’s technology, it’s probably not as “wow” as it was back in the day.

I’m just mad that they developed a character only to kill him a couple of episodes later. That’s sad. 

The soundtrack was pretty standard, but I was impressed by the fact that I liked the voice acting. I originally wasn’t as much of a fan of Hiroyuki Yoshino’s works because I found his voice annoying, but when he finds the right character (like Yoshimori or Eraser Mic), he works really well. It’s unfortunate that a lot of the main cast aren’t as prolific as they once were, but I guess that’s life.

No one was hurt in the making of that gif. 

I rated this a 9/10 because it was for pure enjoyment. I didn’t have this much fun watching an anime in a while. This is the anime that got me binge-watching again.

Nobunaga Concerto

This anime has a blaring problem. It’s not the story, it’s not the writing, it’s not the characters, and it’s not the music. It’s the art. Watch any clip and it will give some Berserk flashbacks.

The writing was pretty good too. The story was genuinely interesting, but in the end, it didn’t feel like it did enough. It didn’t cover enough. The dialogue and the incorporation of modern culture with the historic parts were smart. Saburou was really likeable and oddly adaptive. The characters around him (the historic ones) are pretty cut and dry. The music was pretty good too! The art and lack of adaptation are the only things truly holding this show back.

Mamoru Miyano plays the main character and obviously makes him charming and funny, Yuki Kaji plays Nobunaga Oda, and Nana Mizuki plays Oda’s betrothed. I actually didn’t know anything about Oda’s tale prior to this anime so don’t think that’s required. 

I rated it a 7/10

*Another important note is that they get suddenly racist in the last episode. A black guy appears, and people scream that it’s a monkey like they’ve never seen a darker-skinned human before. It was honestly disappointing.

Ookami-san to Shichinin no Nakama-tachi

Okay, this anime surprised me because of how much I liked it. It wasn’t even anything special. They took the same JC Staff rom-com tropes and put them into another anime combined with some fairy tale lore. But this anime was so entertaining and charming with its cast that I genuinely didn’t hate any of the characters. There were a few moments that made me go, “okay, that’s a bit too much”, but a girl going around punching people with neko boxing gloves? That’s pretty cool. Ookami was a really funny character who I actually found a bit interesting which is weird for a story that’s supposed to be superficial and comedic. Ryoushi is practically a spitting image of my anxiety and personality but in a charming way? He has some cool moments. He’s almost a little like Zenitsu. Courageous when push comes to shove but he’s actually awake. Ringo was the innocent loli until she wasn’t because if you mess with her friend, she will poison you. Again, they made these references to regular rom-com anime and fairy tales that completely roll together nicely. JC Staff didn’t mess this one up, and as always, there’s a tsundere Rie Kugimiya role in there somewhere. 

Because I enjoyed it so much, I gave it a 9/10.

Inari, Konkon, Koi Iroha

I literally finished this one an hour ago, read the last chapter of the manga, and went “what the heck?” Because... I enjoyed this, but I also didn’t? Bitter-sweetness at its best. Houko Kuwashima is a really underrated voice actress because she hasn’t taken that many big roles as of recent, but she has incredible range. The characters of this are incredibly plain, but I don’t mind that because they aren’t painful to watch unlike the first anime I mentioned (seriously, I watched the last three shows on this list to wash that bad anime out of my brain). Everyone in this anime seems to be perfect in one way or another because they don’t really wish ill on anyone. Not gonna lie, characters like that aren’t for everyone because “everyone is a scum at some point in their lives”. I definitely respect for the need of balance. The story is pretty simple and plain and so is the art. The music was nice and pleasant. Basically, it’s a palette-cleanser of an anime after watching some bad anime. It’s about developing middle school romance and this... “teenage” couple on the side. It’s about friendship! And discovering yourself, and yes, one character found out she was gay, and I was rooting for that character so hard only to find out that she didn’t get her conclusive ending. Everyone else gets some bullshit ending one way or another! This is published in the same publication as Bungou Stray Dogs, and I wouldn’t have been able to tell if I didn’t look it up. 

I rated this one an 8/10 because I enjoyed it still despite the ending being a little idealistic, sad, and far-fetched (seriously, someone becomes a god and gets their existence erased). 

[makeste]

BnHA Chapter 142: HHAH!! *GRUNT* *PUNCHING NOISES*

Previously on BnHA: Tamaki faced off against three villains on his own. At first he managed to keep them at bay by generating a bunch of giant kraken arms, which was badass. But then it turned out one of the villains had an eating quirk and just kept eating the damn arms like fucking Gluttony or Monkey D. Luffy or something. The other two villains worked together to beat Tamaki up, but then Tamaki neutralized one of their quirks and fucking absorbed the other one’s quirk and used it against him. Needless to say, he beat them, and it was pretty cool, although I’m not quite sure it was cool enough to warrant an entire chapter being devoted to it, but what are you gonna do. We’re moving on now anyway, so that’s that.

Today on BnHA: Tamaki passes out after winning his fight. We cut back to the rest of the heroes as they make their way down the neverending corridor. Mimic starts messing with the walls again and tries to crush Aizawa, but Fat Gum knocks him out of the way and takes the hit for him. At this point things become very jumbled, but basically FG and Kirishima end up separated from the rest of the group, and find themselves in a pit somewhere with two new villains. One of the villains is a big guy who likes punching shit, and the other is a Buddhist monk who likes to stand around and do absolutely nothing at all. The punching guy punches FG and Kiri a bunch, and Kiri has trouble withstanding it even with his quirk. FG yells at him to not give up and to maintain his will to fight no matter what. He and Kiri face the bad guys in determination and are all “we’re gonna punch ‘em some more, goddammit.”

(As always, all comments not marked with an ETA are my unspoiled reactions from my first readthrough of this chapter. I’ve read up through chapter 175 now, so any ETAs will reflect that.)

all right kids. it’s been two weeks since I last read a chapter. I just did a quick refresher of the past dozen chapters or so, partly to remind myself of everything that was going on, and partly to remind myself of all the cool things that have happened in this arc. it kinda helped. somewhat

Tamaki’s fight didn’t really drag on that much. it was just two chapters. it felt like an eternity -- despite the fact that I actually like Tamaki a lot -- but it really wasn’t that long

and yeah, it’s been like four chapters since they started this raid, and all they’ve basically done so far is run down a few hallways. but I feel like things have to pick up soon, so we’re going to press on

BnHA got the Jump cover again! hopefully that means things are about to get exciting

ooh and there’s a color page too

basically, now that he’s finished beating these three assholes, he’s dosed them with a bit of poison to keep them in check, and now he is passing out. shit

also, “that was far more trouble than it should have been” is one of the more accurate summaries I’ve read in some time

so now we’re finally getting back to our badass 1-A boys! yesssss. I missed you lunkheads

I kinda just want the rest of the arc to be them busting through wall after wall of the labyrinth until they finally catch up to where Mirio is. then Aizawa neutralizes Overhaul’s quirk and they knock him out and rescue Eri and everything is happy and good again. and Nighteye announces that All Might is not going to die after all, and it turns out this whole time he was just misremembering an old cliffhanger episode of the canon All Might anime. and they all live happily ever after etc. etc.

(ETA: you know that anon ask about what I’d change about this arc? scratch everything I wrote in response to that. pencil this in. done and done)

but SOMETHING TELLS ME this is not going to happen

all right, so we’re back in the ol’ villain labyrinth

I’m having so much trouble spelling the word ‘labyrinth.’ I keep mixing up where the y and the i are supposed to go. stupid English language

what the fuck is this title

lol wtf

(ETA: now that I know the meaning of this title, I simultaneously have new respect for the title itself, and new exasperation towards Horikoshi for somehow still failing to see the problem with this extremely dull matchup. listen dude. no one fucking cares if “defense wins championships.” I’m just a poor soul trying to stay awake during panel after panel of blurry punching action. please never do this to us again)

Kirishima’s all “is senpai gonna be okay”, and no one fucking knows, Kiri

but no. he’s not. why on earth did you all leave him. whatever

FG is annoyed that they’re doubting Tamaki

um, no, this is the kind of stupid policy that this series has so far done its best to avoid. in fact, FG, I’ll see your point and raise you one “a true hero offers help even when it’s not asked for”, which is almost the exact opposite of what you’re saying. so WHAT IS THE TRUTH

oh my god Kirishima is immediately doing a 180 from being worried about Tamaki to being all “HE’LL BE FINE”

so am I to understand that you can get Kirishima to say or do anything just by implying that it is or isn’t manly

...actually, yeah, that checks out

so Kiri is fiercely saying that he’s still worried, but he has no choice but to believe in him

meanwhile Rock Lock, whose name was actually mentioned back in like chapter 138 but I missed it but I picked up on it when I went back to refresh my memory, is being annoyed by their enthusiasm. yet again

I feel like Rock Lock actually loves these kids now. right? they’re so fucking lovable. how can you not

(ETA: everyone gives in to class A’s charms eventually)

so now they’ve found some stairs and they’re all “let’s take these stairs”

but then they’re like “maybe we shouldn’t take these stairs”

this kind of indecisive bullshit is exactly why this arc has taken 500 chapters so far you guys. come the fuck on already

Aizawa is suspicious because wth happened to that guy who was manipulating the corridors before

well wasn’t he high af though? so maybe the quirk enhancing drug just wore off and he passed out?

Aizawa is speculating that his range might be limited and he can’t sense them all the way over here. or maybe he’s distracted by the other guys who were still fighting him earlier

I’m tired of trying to sum this all up so I’m just gonna post it

this is the room where Tamaki just finished kicking these guys’ asses. oh shit

now Irinaka’s eye is peeking out, and he’s all mad that the three of them lost to just one guy

and now for some reason we’re cutting back to where Bubble Girl and Captain Cockroach (I forget his name. but it was basically something like that) are restraining the villains who they previously stayed behind to battle

they’re questioning why the villains who were in hiding came out of the woodworks to attack them when they could have potentially gotten away if they’d just stayed put

but one of the villains says that if they’d done that, “Overhaul would have our heads”

this is why I don’t really understand villains like that last bunch who are so fucking loyal to a guy who clearly could not give less of a shit about them

and it seems like most of the current Eights are more loyal to the previous boss than to Overhaul

clearly the previous boss should have picked a 13-year-old peace-loving suburban Japanese kid to be his next heir rather than Chisaki. this is what happens when you don’t have Reborn around

anyway, even though these guys are all complaining about Overhaul, they’re all certain that the heroes aren’t going to succeed in capturing him

-- WHAT IN THE

DID A GIANT BATTERING RAM THING JUST EXPLODE OUT OF THE WALL AND SLAM INTO AIZAWA BECAUSE HOLY SHIT?!

AND NOW IT’S MAKING A HOLE IN THE WALL AND SHOVING AIZAWA INTO IT SHIIIIIT

LEAVE AIZAWA ALONE FOR ONCE, HE NEVER GETS TO DO ANYTHING IN THESE ARCS. LET HIM KICK SOME ASS

Fat Gum is tackling the giant wall hand and knocking Aizawa away from it!

so now Fat Gum has been punted through the hole in the wall instead

I’m relieved Aizawa is still with the kids, but we’re staying with FG, and I s2g if we have to spend another two chapters away from the protagonist watching characters who -- as lovable as they are -- we’d never even met before the start of this arc, I’m not gonna be super happy

-- OH MY GOD

KIRI YOU BLOCKHEAD WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE

motherfucker, he jumped in to take the hit for Aizawa too and then Fat Gum obliviously jumped in behind him and Kiri got sucked in and FG didn’t even realize

well this is just fucking great

so now some guy is emerging from the shadows ready to have fisticuffs!

and Kiri is going into Unbreakable mode again!

should you really be using your trump card right away like that. the trump card which you can only hold for a very short amount of time

um what in the

I’m not really enjoying how blurry and indistinct and difficult-to-follow these action panels have been getting as of late. it’s starting to feel like this series is finally entering a sophomore slump. get it together BnHA, c’mon

anyway, this guy looks to be punching Fat Gum really hard and possibly repeatedly. kind of like when All Might fought the Noumu at USJ

hmm

honestly it sounds like this guy was born to fight Kirishima in an epic showdown

“people oughta kill each other using just the power they got in their bodies” oh, you wacky Honorable Villains. you guys are always all over the place

FG’s turning to Kirishima, but OH SHIT

relax, I’m sure he’s fine though

ah, yes, good

this is probably gonna look really cool in the anime which will make up for this panel being something of a blurry mess right now

(ETA: just to clarify, when I originally read this chapter, I wound up with FA’s original scanlation which was significantly lower in quality. I’ve since found their version 2.0 which used cleaned-up scans which are very much improved.

here’s the original for comparison:

so yeah, the improved scans alone help to make this fight a significantly better read this time around. it’s still dull, but at least it’s readable now lol)

now FG is... trying to punch the other guy, but like. well, take a look

FG is very confused

and now another villain is there! were you there this whole time omg

okay so it must be his barrier then, right?

must... resist... urge to call him Chance the Rappa. no one else thinks it is funny. just you

but you know what. it’s my recap though. so

(ETA: honestly, this association is the only reason why he’s one of the few Eight Expendables whose names I actually recall)

so now Chance is punching FG again and it looks like it hurt him. damn

you know what I didn’t sign up for here. another fight with a tier 3 character where there is no plot advancement and where the villain’s quirk appears to just be “I punch stuff real hard.” wtf. goddammit BnHA, I’m rooting for you so get your shit in order already

so now the barrier villain is referring back to the title and clearing all of that up

actually, Kiri is spear and shield all in one. just saying. boy knows how to throw a damn good punch. who do you think was smashing through all your labyrinth walls earlier

so now Kiri is climbing back to his feet and thinking that the dude’s punches hurt him even in his Unbreakable mode

now there’s a single flashback panel of Bakugou, and my god. I’ll take it. where are you, son. how’ve you been. how’s my other son. I’ve been stuck in a villain labyrinth with side characters for the past half dozen chapters. I hope you’re off having a nice time somewhere

Kirishima is looking like he’s about to get all When The Going Gets Tough THE TOUGH GET GOING

oh! what’s this??

is this... flashback Kiri???

are you telling me he’s not a natural bright flaming redhead. what the hell. next you’re gonna tell me Mina’s not a natural pink and that Deku’s been dying his hair green since childhood

although in Kirishima’s case, he did look up to that Crimson Riot guy seemingly in the same way Deku, Shouto, and Kacchan admired All Might, didn’t he? so maybe it’s got something to do with that

FG is shouting at him not to let up his Unbreakable mode, and that if his spirit breaks that’s when he’ll really lose

and the last page is just Kiri and FG looking gritty and determined. but Kiri’s in his Ben Grimm mode so it looks weird lol

look, I’m hella down for some Kiri flashbacks. I just don’t want this fight to take longer than one and a half chapters. that’s it. that’s my limit. starting a timer... now

BONUS:

I think maybe this bonus page is supposed to go with chapter 143, but eh. it works here too

so Rappa’s quirk is explained in another omake, and basically it’s something that allows him to rotate his shoulders really fast so he can punch a lot. to think, he could have been the next Michael Phelps, but instead he wound up being a third-rate villain in the most boring arc. such a waste

Tengai’s whole character just makes no sense to me whatsoever. why are you a villain. you’re so boring. nothing in your personality or backstory offers up any type of explanation for why you would be working for a murderous crime syndicate. it’s a complete mystery, but not in a cool way, more of a “none of this adds up in the slightest” type of way. just because you never open your eyes when you talk doesn’t make you cool you asshole

[eddycurrents]

BPRD: The Warning - Chapter Three

Story: Mike Mignola & John Arcudi | Art: Guy Davis | Colours: Dave Stewart | Letters: Clem Robins

Originally published by Dark Horse in BPRD: The Warning #3 | September 2008

Collected in BPRD - Volume 10: The Warning | BPRD: Plague of Frogs - Volume 4

Part One of the Scorched Earth trilogy.

Plot Summary:

The team tracks the missing chopper to Munich, Germany, where they stumble upon the house of the woman who’d been approached by those creepy people in raincoats in the first chapter. Abe and Johann investigate for the presence of frog people and get more than they bargained for.

Reading Notes:

(Note: Pagination is in reference to the chapter itself and is not indicative of anything found in the issue or collections.)

pg. 1 - Love this opening scene of Abe just inspecting the plane in silence. Gorgeous artwork from Guy Davis and Dave Stewart.

pg. 2 - It’s nice to see at least a hint of romance in the comics. Other than Johann’s poorly timed and judged orgy and Abe’s dead wife, I mean. Healthy romance.

pg. 3 - “Strange” is normal for the Bureau. They’ve seen ancient worm creatures and frog monsters, it’s kind of funny that Abe is insistent on normal fuel consumption.

pg. 5 - So we circle back to the woman in the opening chapter and these weird guys in raincoats. Stealing electronics and wiring is an interesting wrinkle. Also it reminds me a bit of Stephen King��s “Low Men in Yellow Coats”.

pg. 7 - Johann being an asshole all the time seems almost like his defining characteristic now. Mignola and Arcudi seem to be doing all they can to make us dislike him right now.

Also, I love this reveal and then cutaway.

pg. 9 - Everybody should get a pelican monkey.

pg. 10 - The Black Flame drawing is interesting. It definitely makes you wonder more about who this old woman was and why she seems to have visions of more than just those yellow raincoat guys.

pg. 11 - Love how ominous this abandoned construction looks.

pg. 13 - Johann seems to be doing all that he can to undermine Abe, put him at odds with Kate, and more. He’s really not taking the destruction of his beefcake body well and is becoming more and more problematic. That said, this is a neat way to work through some of the possible objections and questions raised by the plot.

pg. 14/15 - That was unexpected. Also, Davis just kills on all of these double page spreads.

pg. 16 - Nothing’s ever simple. Although it’s great that this arc starts to circle back around to the first BPRD story in Hollow Earth.

pg. 17 - Kate and Bruno flirting is cute. Sadly it’s interrupted by that giant robot claw. This is how you tell that the evolutionary offshoot of the original Hyperboreans are evil.

pg. 18-20 - Wonderful action sequence here of Abe and Johann trying to get back to the surface amidst the destruction caused by the ancient machine.

And Devon having no luck with a phone again.

pg. 21 - “They followed me home, mom, but I don’t want to keep them.”

pg. 23 - Hilarious callback to The Universal Machine. Poor Devon.

pg. 24 - They’re not tripods, but the design for these machines reminds me a lot of the Martian war machines from HG Wells’ War of the Worlds. Particularly those tentacles.

Final Thoughts:

Just when you thought it was safe to chase frogs into the bowels of the Earth...

I’m loving how everything just became relevant again as even the earliest non-Hellboy Bureau storyline comes back to tie-in to current events. It makes sense given Memnan Saa’s own ties to the Hyperboreans (through the legends of the Black Goddess) and Liz’s original kidnapping. All the pieces sliding together.

d. emerson eddy wants his own Martian tripod.

[goforwardgreenwriter-blog]

The Worm Reads: The Assassin’s Blade, Ch 19-20

SJM either cuts one measly scene into three chapters or crams 100+ long scenes into on chapter so this one is gonna be super fucking long

Celaena dressed in the nicest tunic she’d brought—which wasn’t really anything to admire, but the midnight blue and gold did bring out the turquoise hues in her eyes.

SJM gotta stop bringing attention to Celery’s Mary Sue eyes because I laugh every time I think about them.

Ansel takes Celery to dinner.

Staying alert as they entered the hall was an effort of will. Yet even with her exhaustion, she instinctively scanned the room. There were three exits—the giant doors through which they entered, and two servants’ doors on either end. The hall was packed wall-to-wall with long wooden tables and benches full of people. At least seventy of them in total. None of them looked at Celaena as Ansel ambled toward a table near the front of the room. If they knew who she was, they certainly didn’t care. She tried not to scowl.

This paragraph right here. This sums up everything wrong with this book.

At first while I was reading this, I was like “Yes finally!! Celery is acting like an assassin! It took us two short stories to get here, but we finally did!” And then SJM immediately ruins it by having Celery cry and wail about nobody giving her special attention.

Boo fucking hoo! You’re an assassin, you’re not supposed to stand out, you fucking spoiled asshole!! This character is utter garbage and I hate her so much, this is actually making me enjoy the ending of E0S where she gets the shit kicked out of her and shoved into an iron coffin. Fuck her. Fuck this book.

Ansel mentions some Lord Berick guy, who Celery has never heard of before.

“He’s the villain,” said a curly-haired, dark-eyed man across from Ansel. He was handsome in a way, but had a smile far too much like Captain Rolfe’s for Celaena’s liking. He couldn’t have been older than twenty-five.

Nuance who?

Ansel blathers on about Lord Berick and how he’s the most Evil Guy Ever who wants this part of the desert or some shit. No doubt Celery will beat him in one paragraph if they meet, so who really cares.

Outside of the markets in Rifthold (...) she’d never seen such a mix of different kingdoms and continents. And though most of the people here were trained killers, there was an air of peace and contentment—of joy, even.

This place is way tf better than Arobynn’s shitty assassin joint. Please let us stay here?

Vows of silence, Ansel had explained earlier, were taken for as long as each person saw fit. Some spent weeks in silence; others, years. Ansel claimed she’d once sworn to be silent for a month, and had only lasted two days before she gave up. She liked talking too much. Celaena didn’t have any trouble believing that.

That is quite fucking rich coming from you, Celery.

Celaena felt someone’s attention on her, and tried not to blink when she noticed a dark-haired, handsome young man watching her from a few seats down. Stealing glances at her was more like it, since his sea-green eyes kept darting to her face, then back to his companions.

oh no

Their eyes met, and his tan face spread into a smile, revealing dazzlingly white teeth. Well, he was certainly desirable—as desirable as Sam, maybe.

oh god no why this

SJM has basically skipped out on love triangles (Dorito never had a chance in T0G and Tamlin never had a chance in AC0TAR, and you all know it) but nope, she just had to hit all of the shitty YA tropes. Fucking great. Poor Ilias is probably gonna be put down so Celery can realize Sammy is her one true love.

“I’m surprised you caught Ilias’s eye,” Ansel teased, keeping her voice low enough for only Celaena and Mikhail to hear. “He’s usually too focused on his training and meditating to notice anyone—even pretty girls.” (...) “I’ve known him for years, and he’s never been anything but aloof with me,” Ansel continued. “But maybe he has a thing for blondes.” Mikhail snorted.

Holy shit, is this... self awareness? I mean, both the protagonists of SJM’s big ticket series are skinny blonde white girls who have men drooling left and right for them. I bet that new Creamcheese City novel will also feature a blonde “””strong female character””” as the lead.

Celaena pushed around the food on her plate. It wasn’t that she wasn’t romantic. She’d been infatuated with a few men before—from Archer, the young male courtesan who’d trained with them for a few months when she was thirteen, to Ben, Arobynn’s now-deceased Second, back when she was too young to really understand the impossibility of such a thing.

Dude he’s like a fucking adult and she’s barely 16. Get this nasty shit outta my face. So Celery rescued Ben’s body not because he was a good guy, but because she used to have the hots for him?? This is actually gross.

Mikhail asks why Celery’s master beat the shit out of her, and she kisses her own ass for a moment or two while telling the story of freeing the slaves.

“But if the two hundred slaves that I freed are telling the story, then no, I suppose I didn’t deserve it.” None of them were smiling anymore. “Holy gods,” Ansel whispered. True silence fell over their table for a few heartbeats.

HFAKHDKAHDKAHDS I AM GOING TO LOSE MY SHIT

STOP!! MAKING!! EVERYONE!! SPLOOGE!! OVER!! CELERY!! IM SICK OF READING IT GET IT OUT OF MY FACE

The next day (I think?), Ansel takes Celery out to do some running and Celery is pissy that she isn’t immediately getting special attention from the Mute Master. Good to see Celery will never change in her selfish, whiny ways.

Celery fucking sucks at the run to the oasis and everyone continues to lap her.

A small oasis, mostly a ring of trees and a giant pool fed by a shimmering stream, was barely an eighth of a mile away. She was Adarlan’s Assassin—at least she’d made it here.

Stop reminding me she’s Adaran’s Assassin, I fucking know. Remember how I said at the beginning that Celery doesn’t splooge over herself as much as Alien does? Yeah I take it back, Celery is even more obnoxious.

Later on Ansel tries to stroke Celery’s fragile precious little ego by saying she did worse on her first run.

“My first run, I collapsed. Mile two. Completely unconscious. Ilias found me on his way back and carried me here. In his arms and everything.” Ilias’s eyes met with Celaena’s, and he smiled at her. “If I hadn’t been about to die, I would have been swooning,”

No Ilias/Ansel/Celery love triangle, please.

Celaena blushed, suddenly too aware of Ilias’s attention, and took a sip from her cup of lemon water. As the meal wore on, her blush remained as Ilias continued flicking his eyes toward her. She tried not to preen too much. But then she remembered how miserably she’d performed today— how she hadn’t even gotten a chance to train—and the swagger died a bit.

Celaena made her best attempt to look casual as she, too, stood and bid everyone good night. As she turned away, she noticed that Mikhail took Ansel’s hand and held it in the shadows beneath the table.

Apparently Ansel and Mikhail are a thing? I literally don’t care. Mikhail has said like what, five words this entire story? They’re literally just together because SJM can’t stand the idea of having any single characters (unless they’re evil).

Celery chases down The Master to demand her special snowflake treatment.

The Master paused, his white clothes rustling around him. He offered her a little smile. Up close, she could certainly see his resemblance to his son. There was a pale line around one of his fingers— perhaps where a wedding ring had once been. Who was Ilias’s mother? Of course, it wasn’t at all the time for questions like that.

Yeah, no shit Celery. Why are you such an idiot?

The Mute Master is like “wait your turn” and leaves. Ilias shows up for shipping fuel I guess?

“I have no plans to hurt him,” she said softly. But Ilias gave her a half smile, his brows rising as if to ask if she could blame him for being protective of his father.

Maybe I’m a softie, but this endeared me to him somewhat. He seems like a nice guy, which is more than what you get with 95% if SJM’s male characters. How come all of Celery’s love interests Rowboat who are waaay better characters than her?

His eyes were vivid in the torchlight, his hand firm and warm around hers. She let go of his fingers. The son of the Mute Master and the protégée of the King of the Assassins. If there was anyone here who was at all similar to her, she realized, it was Ilias. Rifthold might be her realm, but this was his.

Human brain: don’t get attached, Celery is an asshole

Monkey brain: hhhhhh parallels between partners in a ship...love....

Not that Ilias and Celery are/will be a thing, but you know. I’m a sucker for shit like this.

Ilias suddenly began making a series of motions with his long, tan fingers, but Celaena laughed softly. “I have no idea what you’re trying to say.” Ilias looked skyward and sighed through his nose. Throwing his hands in the air in mock defeat, he merely patted her on the shoulder before passing by

Ilias is a good, pure boy. I’d read a story where Sammy goes to the desert instead of Celery and him and Ilias fall in love and hold hands under the shade of the desert night. Hngh, I really wish I could be reading that fanfic instead of this novel.

As she walked back to her room, Celaena had a horrible feeling that here, being Adarlan’s Assassin might not count for much.

Celery says this like we’re supposed to feel sorry for her, but back in Arobynn;s Assassin joint she flaunts her title around and rubs it in everyone’s face so yeah, you don’t get sympathy from me.

“How long have you been seeing him?” Ansel was silent for a long moment before answering. “Since I was fifteen.” Fifteen! Mikhail was in his midtwenties, so even if this had started almost three years ago, he still would have been far older than Ansel. It made her a little queasy.

Oh. My. God.

See, I personally don’t like huge age gapes in ships (that’s just my personal preference, don’t fucking @ me) but Celery you literally said earlier you were in love with Ben, a fucking grown man, when you were a young teenager you fucking hypocrite!!!!!!!! God I fucking hate Celery!!!!!!!

With nothing else to distract her, Celaena eventually returned to thinking about Sam. Even weeks later, she had no idea how she’d somehow gotten attached to him, what he’d been shouting when Arobynn beat her, and why Arobynn had thought he’d need three seasoned assassins to restrain him that day.

Pretty simple answers. You got attached to Sammy because a) SJM wanted you to so she forced you to start thirsting for him, and b) you realized “oh hey Sammy is a good guy maybe I shouldn’t imagine myself slitting his throat”. What Sammy was shouting will be revealed later to my knowledge, and as for the 3 assassins thing... idk, tbh. I mean, Sammy is just a teenager boy, one big buff assassin should be enough to restrain him.

This chapter finally ends thank fucking god. We still have one more to go for today.

[Celaena] did run farther the next day. And the day after that, and the one following that. But it still took her so long to get back that she didn’t have time to seek out the Master. Not that she could. He’d send for her. Like a lackey.

Stop trying to make me feel bad for Celery being ignored if she’s just gonna splooge about how ~special and uhmayzing~ she is.

Like the assassins in Adarlan, the Silent Assassins weren’t known for any skill in particular—save the uncannily quiet way they moved.

That seems kinda odd. Assassins should be talented at many ways of disposing of people yeah, but wouldn’t it make more sense for some of them to have a knack for a certain type of killing, such as using poisons?

Still, even as [the assassins] corrected her posture and showed her new ways to control her breathing, she tried her best not to snarl at them. She knew plenty—she wasn’t Adarlan’s Assassin for nothing.

If I have to read that fucking sentence one more time I am ripping this book in half. No joke, I am a hair’s length away from not finishing this fucking book. Even E0S never got me to want to throw  the towel in completely and quit like this.

Perhaps if she demonstrated that she was skilled enough in these practices, the Master might take notice of her. She’d get that letter. Even if she had to hold a dagger to his throat while he wrote it.

Wow, asshole! You have to put in the tiniest amount of effort to learn and talk to people and you’re already resorting to violence??? You really are a weak and stupid protagonist and I hate you with every fiber of my being.

The attack by Lord Berick happened on her fifth night.

This made me sit up in my seat, to be honest. We finally get.... plot? Promises of action? Assassins versus assassins? Holy shit, I’m hype!

Apparently the attack happens oh so conveniently when the Mute Master and a bunch of assassins are away on a mission. Celery acknowledges this as extremely convenient, which leads me to believe there may be a rat in the assassin fortress. If not, then this is laughably stupid and convenient.

“We’re not going to kill [the soldiers]?” Celaena whispered back. (...) Ansel shook her head, watching Ilias down the line. “No, though I wish we could.” Celaena didn’t particularly care for the casual way she said it

Why would that fucking bother you?? Don’t act all high and mighty asshole, you’re an assassin the same as her. You both kill people for a living. Jesus fucking christ.

They all fire some burning arrows at an oil ridge in the sand or something which scares off Lord Berick’s goons. The scene ends.

I’m not even joking, this entire scene takes up a page and a tiny paragraph of another. I... I’m fucking speechless. You promise us an action scene and you give us this shitty, glossed over pile of garbage that serves no point? No named characters were even injured!!!!!! Holy fucking shit, SJM, you are a terrible terrible terrible writer! Please fucking stop, I can’t handle any more of these dumpster fires of novels.

The next day Mikail tells Ansel she has orders to go to Xandria, and she invites Celery to go along with, I assume Xandria is a place.....? This chapter ends. I am going to drown myself in chocolate chip cookies to heal.

[wittystiles]

The Bluff | Part One | Mitch Rapp

Author: wittystiles

Title: Prologue

Characters: Stan Hurley, Irene Kennedy, Reader, (tech Mitch Rapp is in this too)

Summary: Mitch Rapp is a highly trained CIA opperative. And a huge pain in the organizations ass. As a member of the elite (and unknown) Orion Team, Mitch causes quite the headache for CIA Assistant Director, Irene Kennedy and his trainer Stan Hurley. The two have decided things must change, and Mitch must be calmed down. With the help of Reader, they hope they have things figured out.

A/N: This is like my favorite thing right now. The ideas I have for this have me so excited! Like, I’m looking forward to sharing this. Also, this is my first (of hopefully many) chaptered fics, so. Please enjoy! Thank you to @ellie-bee242 for the prompt that has inspired this whole thing, and for her constant support and help.

The smell of bitter coffee was prominent in the small office mixing with the subtler scent of whatever air freshener hung in the corner above the door. Stan thought, distantly, that it may perhaps be vanilla. Then again, that could be the smell of the creamer that Irene had generously poured into her cup turning the color of the coffee from tar to mud. She raised the cup for a drink as Stan looked at his watch.

12:14 PM

“Are we ever going to get this meeting started?” Stan questioned Irene, setting his own cup down on the edge of her desk. “I’ve been sitting in here for ten fuckin’ minutes. I’ve got places to be, Irene. People to see, things to do. I can’t sit in here all day with my thumb up my ass.”

Licking her lips to get the taste of (the still awful) coffee off of them, Irene lifted her eyes to look at the clock on the wall behind Stan Hurley. She gave a small smirk, keeping mum.

“Oh for heaven's sake,” Stan huffed, pushing to stand from his seat.

Irene narrowed her eyes at him, “sit Stan.” Her tone was flat but demanding. Stan sat.

Returning her attention to the clock, Irene smiled.

12:15 PM

“The meeting was scheduled for 12:15. You arrived early, and therefore I had no obligation to speak to you. Now, I do.”

Stan got visibly annoyed, pursing his lips into a thin line. He leaned his back against the chair, crossing his left knee over his right. “What is this meeting for, Irene? My previous statement still stands. I still have things to do and people to see.”

Irene picked a file up from her desk, holding it out to Stan as she sipped from her cup.

Stan read the name on the top of the folder and rolled his eyes, trying to keep from groaning audibly. “Why is every meeting we have about him?”

Irene shifted her position in her chair to be more comfortable, holding her mug with two hands. “You know why, Stan.”

Taking a deep breath, Stan began thumbing through the folder, huffing a bit. “I know all of this shit.” He closed it, dropping it to Irene’s desk with a dull thud. “What did he do now that warrants me dragging my ass all of the way down here to drink shitty coffee with you?” Stan picked his cup up, taking a swallow of the liquid.

Irene set her cup down and leaned forward, crossing her hands in front of her, resting her forearms against her desk. “He is a risk, Stan. And we fe-”

Stan cut her off with curt laugh. “Are you about to tell /me/ that this kid is a risk, Irene? I have been saying that since day. Fucking. One.” Stan jabbed his finger against the folder for emphasis. “I knew he was a risk, and I told you not to take him in. Told you not to give him to me. It is not my fault you did the opposite.” Stan crossed his arms over his chest. “If you’re about to say I need to crack down on him harder, save your breath. I’m doing my best with that sonovabitch, who if you couldn’t guess, doesn’t listen to more than a tenth of what I say.”

Irene took a deep breath, shaking her head. “If you would have let me finish I would have said ‘and we feel it is necessary to bring in reinforcements to help you’.”

Stan nearly dropped his mouth in shock at her. “I don’t need reinforcements, Irene. What I need is to get Mitch Rapp out of my fucking hair. I don’t have that much left!” Stan gestured to his head with his right hand, resting the elbow of his left on the arm of the chair. “This little asshole has single handedly raised my blood pressure to the point where I need pills. Can you believe that? Pills, Irene. Like the kind given to Grandad’s at the nursing home.”

Irene bit on her lips to keep from snickering at him. “Aren’t you a Grandad, Stan?”

He pointed the index finger of his right hand at her, narrowing his eyes. “You’re pushing me Irene.”

Irene unfolded and then refolded her hands together. “Stan, we’re sending in a handler. For fear of Mitch actually killing you from aggravation, we think you need someone else on your team.”

“I can handle him myself,” Stan said bitterly.

“You just told me you need him out of your hair, and that he’s giving you high blood pressure.” Irene reminded Stan.

“I say those things out of frustration. Every time I have to get into a monkey suit and come down here to talk to you about that little prick I harbor a bit more resentment for him. That, however, does not mean I am done trying with him. He is my own personal vendetta. I do not want you sending in one of your uppity, sniveling fresh-out-of-the-womb Bureau babies to try and keep track of that kid. Just, give me a fucking higher powered taser. Perhaps an actual cattle prod to deal with him. He’ll get his ass in check.”

Irene raised her hand to her forehead, rubbing it with the pads of her first three fingers. “Stan, you’re not cattle prodding Mitch into submission.”

“Absolutely not, I’m going to cattle prod him until he shits his pants. And then he won’t continue making mistakes. Like how you have to rub a dog’s nose in it’s own piss so it stops going in the house.”

Irene’s eyes widened in shock. “Stan! You’re not going to do that.”

Irene swore she saw disappointment flash in Stan’s eyes. She had to take in a deep breath for a count of five seconds, releasing it for three before she could speak. “Stan, electrocuting him will likely make his behavior worse.”

Stan shrugged, “so? I would enjoy it.”

“The whole point -” Irene had to catch herself, her voice had risen. “The whole point of this conversation is for us to, together, decide the best course of action to curb Mitch’s wayward behavior. Not make it worse and give you some sadistic pleasure.”

“Please don’t make it seem like I would get off on torturing the kid. Because, while true, it’s uncomfortable.” Stan sighed heavily. “You’ve decided you’re bringing in a Bureau baby on your own, Irene. How is that us coming up with the best course of action “together”?”

Irene rolled her eyes. “Stop calling them ‘Bureau babies’ please, Stan?”

Stan nearly shook his head no, but stopped himself. “What would you prefer? CIA Cunts? I like that one too.”

Irene flared her nostrils in anger, taking a deeper breath. “Stan, we’re bringing in a handler. But I have chosen to allow you to help me decide what this handlers duties are.”

“Staying the fuck away, how’s that sound?”

“We have two really good candidates for this position, Stan. One is a newly recruited trainee, similar to Mitch when he first started here. He’s a little timid, but I think he’d work decently.” Irene picked up a file and held it out to Stan, who promptly tossed it back onto her desk. “The other is a second year field agent. Started early, graduated top of the class, follows commands.”

Irene picked up the final file from her desk and offered it to Stan. He read the name at the top of the folder, narrowing his eyes dangerously.

“They’re a she?” He asked, opening the file. He thumbed through it for a second before setting it down on his lap. “She’s pretty. She’ll be trouble though, Irene. You know how Mitch is when it comes to women.”

Irene sighed, “which is why I’m leaning towards her.”

Stan took a moment of silence, holding his hands together against his lips in a mock prayer position. “Why don’t we assign someone else to him too? Just really drain the agencies pocket books?”

Irene sighed, “I think two will be enough.” She sipped her coffee before raising an eyebrow. “But maybe two directly assigned to him wouldn’t be the worst thing you’ve ever come up with Stan.”

Stan rolled his eyes, shaking his head a bit. “It wasn’t a real idea, Irene. I was being what you’d call ‘a smartass’.”

Irene was going to say something but caught herself.

“So, how do you plan on using this chick?” Stan asked, indicating the folder in his lap.

“That’s why you’re here Stan,” Irene said. She resumed her comfortable, leaned back position in her chair.

Two hours of brainstorming and logistics later, Stan and Irene had formed their plan. They had talked all of their options over, some causing Stan to curse in frustration. Others making Irene groan in annoyance. When they’d narrowed down their course of action, they made sure it was the best one. The one that would help Mitch the most.

They both sure as hell hoped so. And, though neither would admit it, they were both a little worried. There was a lot of room for error.

“Would you go refill our coffees?” Irene asked, holding her cup out to Stan while tapping at her keyboard with her other hand.

“I’m not your errand boy. Ask your assistant to do it again. She looked eager to please.” Stan went to pick his cup up, realizing his was empty as well. He huffed, pushing up from the chair he felt like he was growing a part of. “I’ll be back.” He snatched Irene’s cup from her outstretched hand, holding it by the handle in the same hand as his own cup. He pulled the door open and nearly walked into the woman with her fist raised to knock.

“Oh,” Stan said a little startled. “Did you invite her up, Irene?”

Irene nodded and Stan moved out of the way letting the woman in. She gave him a small smile before taking a seat in one of the two chairs in front of Irene’s desk. She crossed her legs, and rest her hands on her knee. “Hello, Ms. Kennedy.” She said, smiling politer to Irene than she had to Stan.

Stan had set the mugs on the desk of Irene’s assistant and returned to her office, shutting the door behind him. “You were fast.” Irene said, giving her attention to the new addition to her and Stan’s meeting. “I just sent the message to have you be sent up, what, forty seconds ago?”

The new addition gave a shrug, “I was already up here ma’am. You said you figured you’d want to see me around 2:15, perhaps 2:30. It’s 2:20 -” she looked down at her watch. “2:21, actually, so. I thought I’d head up. I’m sorry if I’m early.”

Stan snorted a laugh, “if she told you 2:15 you’re late. If she told you 2:30 well, don’t expect her to talk to you until then. She likes to shove it down your throat that you’ve got to follow her orders, so she’ll sit in silence for ten fuckin’ minutes to piss you off.”

Irene let out a deep breath, “watch the way you talk Stan.” She turned her attention to the woman, smiling sweetly. “Thank you for being prompt, (Y/N). Good to see you.”

(Y/N) gave Irene a gentle nod, gripping her knee a bit.

“You can relax, (Y/N). I have not called you up here on anything terrible. You don’t have to look so rigid.” She glanced at Stan. “Don’t make a remark.”

(Y/N) relaxed back against the chair, loosening the grip on her knee. “Why may I ask, am I here then, ma’am?”

Irene smiled, “we have an assignment for you, (Y/N). You’ve proven yourself more than apt in the field, and during your internship during college your leaders all commended you highly. We feel that you would be the most fitting for this - role, if you will.”

Stan rolled his eyes at Irene calling the assignment a role, but felt it nearly appropriate. “This is going to make her such a good actress, I’ll nominate her for a fucking academy award, Irene. Since this is a ‘role’.”

(Y/N) gave the both of them a confused look, uncrossing her legs to recross them again this time opposite. “What do you mean I’ll have to be a good actress Mr.-?”

“Stan.”

“Mr. Stan?” (Y/N) asked, furrowing her brows.

“No, my last name is Hurley but you’re to call me Stan. Thought that was obvious, are we sure she’s as smart as you say Irene?”

Irene gave Stan an exhausted look. “(Y/N), we’re assigning you as a handler - of sorts.” Irene began, leaning forward to pick up Mitch’s file. “Here’s your charge,” Irene held the file out to (Y/N), who took it immediately.

She opened it and began reading the front page, here eyes stopping on the picture of the attractive agent before hurrying over the information provided.

Name: Mitch Rapp

Age: 26 Years

D.O.B: 03 . 28 . 1991 - Charlotte, North Carolina

Height: 5’10

Weight: 180 LBS

Marital status: Single

Occupation: (redacted)

Financial situation: (redacted)

Education: Degree in international business, Syracuse University.

Languages: Arabic, French, German, Italian, Persian.

Psychiatric Evaluation: Mood swings, Night sweats (former), Obsessive delusions (former).

Alias: (redacted)

Lead: Stan Hurley

Training: Weapons, Marksmanship, Hand-To-Hand Combat, Explosives.

Department: (redacted)

Operations: (redacted)

Place of Residence: (redacted)

Handler: (no known)

Level Of Clearance: (redacted)

(Y/N) looked up at Irene, sighing a bit. “I’m going to be watching after someone my own age?” She closed the file, resting it against her leg.

Irene shook her head, “not exactly.” She cleared her throat. “You’re going to be.. Handling him. You’re going to be in charge of making sure he doesn’t get himself into any more… lets just call it trouble.”

“So I’m going to be made to babysit him? If he’s so highly trained why am I necessary? I don’t feel like someone like him, a troublemaker, would like someone holding his hand in the field.”

Stan laughed, “not exactly either. You’re not going in the field with him, (Y/N). And you won’t be holding his hand and walking him along.”

“What will I be doing?” (Y/N) asked, opening the file again to look over the rest of the pages.

“Well,” Stan started, a smarmy grin stretching across his thin lips.

—————

Tags: @ellie-bee242 , @redstringlovers , @lovefilledtragedy

If you’d like to have a tag, tell me please! (-:

[forgetspecifics]

Such Sights are Bright - Chapter 2: I’m Barely Awake

Blake finds out that there really is more to Yang than meets the eye.

Other links: Ao3 FF.net

Notes:

Okay, first of all, sorry about the wait! It was hard to get all this the way I wanted. There's a good chunk of talking somewhere in here. Then, some things didn't go as I barely planned, I originally was gonna do a Halloween thing but that got cut in favour for something else. I think what I did served a better purpose in developing the friendship.

It's almost 5am and I wanted to get this out because I won't be with my work to post it for a few days, so, sorry but there's gonna be an extra two days wait on me starting the next chapter.

Hope you like it!

October (Fall)

/

“How’s your Yang-less life treatin’ ya? I’d say how’s it Yangin’ but…”

Her younger sister let out a small whine, sending a scowl even Yang could fear through the video call. “I don’t like it.”

Yang felt bad, she truly did. But Ruby had relied on her for so long, she had to get out into her own world, no matter how much she thought she didn’t like it. It’s not like Yang was the best role model these days.

“You just started your sophomore year! Aren’t you excited?” she asked, hoping to learn how her kid-sister had been coping without her.

“A new girl did transfer in from Germany. I bumped into her on the first day and she lost her mind!”

Yang tried to picture a foreign girl ranting and raving in a native language over something so minor. “Was it funny?”

“Not at the time. Turns out she was angry because she isn’t a senior, even if she’s your age. Because of the differences between here and her country, or something…” she trailed off, becoming distracted.

That sounded shit, if she was honest. But, Ruby was such a nice girl, she assumed that even an annoyed person would appreciate her kindness – if it was offered.

“And?”

Ruby chuckled like she always used to when she was caught stealing cookies. “She pretends to not like me, but I think we’re friends now.”

She was relieved to hear that the girl hadn’t been a bully to her baby sis. Otherwise she’d have to consider going back just to teach her a lesson. But Ruby could handle people better than she could, no matter how much people thought the opposite. Sure, she had a certain charm, but good looks only get you so far when you’re prone to punching people

“Way to go! See, you don’t even need me!” she encouraged. She was trying to hammer home the fact, because Ruby needed to hear it from her if she was going to even begin believe it.

“That’s not the point, Yang,” her sister deflected, still not happy. She had her famous pout going, arms crossed, just like Yang herself had done many times before. Little copycat.

The older girl did her best to resist that kind of manipulation. She’d raised Ruby for years and wasn’t about to forget it. “I know it’s not, but my point is you’re managing fine. And, it’s not that long ‘till you guys are comin’ to visit! I’ll make cookies!”

That seemed to cheer her sibling up. Ruby couldn’t resist an offer of cookies. Just like Summer used to bake.

“Fine, only if you make cookies,” the brunette pointed at the screen for added effect, changing the subject herself. “What about you? Made a million friends?”

Yang counted all the people she had met and befriended. There was Blake, Sun and Neptune – Ruby already knew of them. She described to Ruby the other people that she’d met – there was Nora, a hyperactive cheerleader that was a hoot to hang around. There was Ren, Nora’s not-boyfriend; Jaune, the football team’s waterboy; and Pyrrha, who was way too cool to hang out with Jaune but did anyway. She was suspicious that Pyrrha had a huge crush on him, but whatever. Those four had been friends for years. The best part was, they were all like Blake. Friendly and appreciative of the good people, and unappreciative of people like Cardin Winchester.

He was still ruining their hopes at winning matches, which reminded her that their game later was going to be another loss. Since her first match, she and Sun and Neptune hadn’t been able to make any great plays to make up for it.

A concerned voice broke her out of her thoughts. “Yang? What’s wrong?”

“Don’t worry, just football stuff. QB’s still not playing ball with Sun,” she frowned, “pun not intended.”

Optimistic as ever, Ruby suggested she try and be nice and convince him to do the right thing. The only thing she could do was try.

“I’ll let you know how I go. Maybe we won’t lose…I should go.”

She was given a thumbs up. “Good luck Yang! Love you,” Ruby said.

“Love you too, sis.”

The window on the screen went black as the video call was ended. Yang caught her face in the reflection of the screen. As much as she was enjoying herself, it hadn’t been all smooth-sailing. Blake had been wanting her to work on her part of the project, but, if football games weren’t getting in the way, she just wasn’t doing it. And Blake wasn’t pleased with her avoiding the subject, not one bit. Yang just wasn’t that good at concentrating on school stuff, and when she’d admitted that, her friend had offered to help her improve. She was coming over after the game that evening so they could work together – work better.

Or so Yang hoped.

By the time she and Qrow arrived at the field, the matter of the social studies assignment had been put on her mental backburner. As much as she had a commitment to that, she also had a commitment to the team – mostly Sun. He was her friend, and he was being treated unfairly, and she wouldn’t stand for that.

The coach had noticed their crappy performances, but not the cause. He was making their pre-game discussions and preparations more intense, demanding everybody show up earlier to make up for it. Either he was insanely stupid to miss what was happening, or insanely racist, just like Cardin.

Yang was beginning to think it was the latter.

By half time, Beacon was losing yet again. Cardin wasn’t changing, not even in the face of defeat. Yang’s anger decided that he would change, even if she had to bear a conversation with someone she loathed. Walking off the field, she looked up at the stands, a sea of disappointed supporters amidst elated faces of the cheering opposition crowd. Even the cheering squad; with powerhouse in pep Nora Valkyrie, couldn’t perk them up. The girls in skirts were trying to mask their pessimism, but they couldn’t fool somebody who was really looking. Removing her helmet, she gratefully took the proffered water from a concerned Jaune. “Thanks, Jaune. Pretty miserable out here tonight, ain’t it?”

The boy, with a mop of blonde hair that reminded her of her dad, nodded. He handed more water out to passing players. “I wish I could do something,” he muttered, not out of earshot.

“It’s not your responsibility.”

Maybe it wasn’t hers either. But she had to talk to Cardin right now. It had gone on long enough.

Up in the bleachers, Qrow was not unaware of his niece approaching the elitist Quarterback. Yang had informed him many times of the dumb-asshole-rich-kid that didn’t like Sun just because he had a tail. He had some idea of how this situation could end up, and if he was being honest, he wasn’t going to do anything to stop it happening. Kid deserved to be knocked down a peg, he bitterly thought.

“What’s she doing?” He heard Blake say. The girl beside him stood up, trying to get a better view.

In his head, Qrow was debating whether or not he could bet with himself as to how long it would take for the talking to turn into fighting. He’d sat through multiple disappointing football games, and convinced himself it was one hundred percent not his fault if the snobby prick got his ass handed to him.

Apparently, down on the grass, most of the people had noticed Yang stomp over to Cardin. The cheer squad was being as nonchalant as they could, watching the only female on the team confront the guy…that nobody truly liked.

Sun and Neptune observed hopefully.

Blake surveyed the scene.

Qrow silently wagered it’d be a minute before shit hit the proverbial fan.

“Cardin, I need to talk to you,” Yang attempted to hold the bite in her tone. Getting what she wanted peacefully wasn’t out of the question yet.

She was much smaller in stature compared to him, as he glanced down at her, a slimy smile on his ugly face. “Have you quit playing hard to get?”

Yang completely ignored his question, resisting the urge to shudder. “If you don’t start passing the damn ball to Sun, our team will be a laughing stock,” she reasoned, even though he was likely too egotistical to care about what cost his bigotry came at.

“Oh, you’re standing up for that animal, I see,” he sneered, “you’re only doing this because you like him.”

Growing exasperated as he dribbled on, she did a double take. “Excuse me?”

“Listen. You’re too perfect to be wasted on a dirty beast like that. Tell you what. Ditch him, we could be a great couple. If I’ve got you, I might contemplate passing to the monkey.”

Yang couldn’t believe he was trying to ask her out. If that even counted as asking somebody out. She didn’t even like Sun that way! This guy is seriously braindead, a voice in her head shouted. “Are you serious?”

Cardin laughed. It was a horrible sound – pompous and haughty. He entered her personal space, and she could feel his warm breath on her face. “You know you want me,” he said, as she felt a hand grope her butt. Behind her, she was sure she heard Nora make a gagging noise, and recognised a faint gasp that could only be Jaune.

As much as she wanted to deck her assaulter right then, she kept her calm and pushed his arm away. Turning to Nora and the squad, she pointed at them, “You guys saw that, right?” Receiving only nods, Yang couldn’t help but smirk. If she had witnesses, she’d be fine. Mostly.

Blake was in disbelief. Cardin had felt Yang up! Her stomach dropped as she wondered if her friend had let him, as a means of persuasion.

Qrow sighed as he stood to join her. “What an idiot.”

“What do you m-”

Yang had twisted back from the cheerleaders and slugged Cardin right in the face, the crowd’s gasps answering Blake’s unfinished question.

The boy stumbled backwards and tripped over a bench, crying out in pain. Not deterred by his fall, he recovered and pushed past the coach, who was attempting to calm his star player.

Yang, having her back to him, hadn’t seen him get up. She hadn’t expected him to, but partly was backing off to avoid making things any worse than they were.

“You bitch!”

Too late did her reaction come, because before she could defend herself, she was treated to a knuckle sandwich of her own. Catching a distinct crunch over the murmuring patrons, her head whipped to the side, and then came the sensation of blood starting to pour out her nose.

He had gotten her good, but it became clear that he wasn’t averse to hitting girls, especially those that had embarrassed him. As soon as she had gathered her bearings, he’d clocked her left eye not unlike she had done to him moments before. The coach and several players scrambled to pull Cardin back. Yang wiped her mouth with her forearm, smearing sticky, hot blood along it, as Sun and Neptune arrived to pull her back.

“I will RUIN you!” the QB roared from behind a wall of bodies, as Qrow arrived with Blake in tow. The older man cut through, grabbing a fistful of shirt as the beefy teenager tried to shove him.

Scarlet eyes narrowed. “You better pipe down you snot-nosed punk!”

“She hit me first!”

“No,” Qrow retorted lowly, “you lay your hand on her first, and I’m willing to bet there’s at least ten eyewitnesses that’ll say Yang was acting in self-defence.”

Cardin was not to be easily swayed. “Says who, you?”

“Yeah, me. I think an ex-cop would know, don’t you?”

His complexion fading only the slightest at the revelation, Cardin knew he was cornered. His only option was to give up, but he wanted the last word. “I’m not playing with that she-beast and her mangy boyfriend!” He yelled, and stalked away as soon as he was released.

Qrow shrugged at the coach that shot him a look that said this is your fault. “Get someone else to play. He was why your team sucks.”

Meanwhile, Yang’s friends had been fussing over her leaking face. Well, mostly Blake. Sun was saying how awesome the fight was, Neptune was trying not to faint because there was so much blood.

“Guys! Here,” Jaune once again produced water, Blake taking the bottle, only to have her hand halted by Yang’s scuffed knuckles.

She tried to voice her protests, but the hand held steady. “No point. Still bleeding,” she sputtered through the stream.

Nora had hurried over and was bouncing around Sun, the two repeatedly exclaiming how hilarious it was that Cardin had hit the deck like a sack of bricks, and Yang had taken two hits and hadn’t even faltered.

The crowd had grown restless, calling for the game to continue. The fight was over, and now they needed entertainment once again. The whistle blew, the referee calling to their coach to play on or forfeit.

Having successfully removed Cardin, they had a shot. Yang couldn’t play right now, but the rest of them could. “Go! You don’t need me!”

The boys left her with a pat on the back and a fistbump, running out with their reserve Quarterback.

Her uncle stood watching silently, but Yang knew he wasn’t mad at her. He’d defended her, after all. Then there was Blake. She, however, was wearing a look that could only be described as calmly freaked out. Oxymoronic, yes, but Yang could tell just by the look in those amber eyes.

Yang tried to lift the tense mood that had blanketed them. “And that’s why Qrow calls me firecracker,” she joked. Blake did not find it funny.

“I can’t believe you. Getting assaulted and then cracking jokes.”

“Please, it’s nothing I can’t handle. I’ve had worse,” she said as slender fingers cupped her jaw. Inspecting Yang’s nose, Blake carefully tipped the water over it, the bleeding having ceased over the last minute.

“Your crooked nose says otherwise, firecracker.”

Lifting her jersey, she used the hem to wipe at her face, clearing the metallic taste off her lips and chin. Smiling to herself as Blake’s eyes focused on her uncovered stomach for a second before quickly looking away, she gave her a wink when her gaze was finally met. “It was crooked before. But you probably noticed that with how much you stare.”

With a huff, her friend crossed her arms defiantly, not engaging with the taunt. Which to Yang, meant she was the victor of their banter.

Resisting the chastising look she was getting, she played innocent. “I’m gonna get the medic to fix this,” Yang thumbed over her shoulder towards the direction of the guy that should have already attended to her, but had been busy coddling Cardin until he stormed off once again.

Blake tracked the retreating figure keenly, but couldn’t watch as the man set Yang’s nose back into place, a curse reaching her ears instead. Only now she noticed that there was quietly enraged adult bickering with Qrow – likely Cardin’s father. If what Yang’s uncle had said was true, everybody would just move on and sweep the short brawl under the rug. She wasn’t pleased that there was a boy that was essentially getting away with sexual assault, even if it was minor.

She also hadn’t noticed that the Bulldogs were scoring – now that there weren’t any racist interferences, until Yang returned looking sore but proud, telling her to look at how Sun was whooping and hugging Neptune. Which reminded Blake of something.

“Is what Cardin said true? You and Sun?”

Taking the small icepack – she must have gotten it from the medic – away from her eye, Yang didn’t falter in her response, as surprised as she was that Blake even had to ask. “Hell no. Apparently, you have to be fuc-”

Stopping mid-sentence, she made a noise of regret, deciding against her choice of words. “Like a guy to stand up for him. Or not want to go on a date with somebody.”

Blake contemplated. Yang hadn’t done it because she and Sun were dating, nor had she done it because she had a crush on him. Why had she let guard down, even though she was fully capable in self-defence? “Then why’d you do it? You got hurt, Yang.”

Beneath her shoulder pads, the girl heaved a sigh, eyes wistfully following her Faunus friends’ tail as he ran downfield. “Somebody had to. If Sun had brought it up, it wouldn’t have ended well, you and I both know that.”

There was regret in her tone. Sun’s bully would have only twisted the situation to place the blame on the person he despised.

“Neptune was going to, but I knew if anybody had a chance of persuading a jock only interested in his ego, it’d be the girl everybody notices for her physical appearance,” Yang said, clearly referring to herself, a sad smile gracing her beaten face. “But, mostly I did it because Sun deserves to be treated better than that. I’d gladly take a punch or two for him to escape prejudice.”

If there was a word to described how she was feeling, Blake didn’t have it in her vocabulary. That was one of the most honest, selfless and kind-hearted things she’d ever heard a human say about a Faunus. If Yang wasn’t covered in blood and sweat, she’d have hugged her. “Then you’re a good person,” was all she managed to get out, but she couldn’t help but feel that it didn’t quite cover what she thought.

“That depends on who you ask,” Yang replied cryptically. “Before you say I’m a good person, there’s probably some things you should know about me.”

The car ride back to Qrow’s house was quiet, save for the low static of evening radio that had been called upon to fill the silence. With their best efforts, the Bulldogs had not been able to secure a win, but, they had almost closed the gap in scores. For that, everyone was happy.

But, Blake honestly didn’t know how to take what Yang had said to her. It was the first time since the blonde walked in late and been assigned as her partner that she was doubtful. She didn’t know what to think. What kind of things should she know? What was she going to be told?

She tried to keep her imagination in check. Surely, it wasn’t going to be anything bad…the last thing she wanted was to have made friends with another person that broke her trust.

As the three of them followed Qrow into the house, the man headed straight for the kitchen. The clinking of a glass and the distinct sound of a lid being unscrewed was all that filled the silence that seemed to have trailed them from the car. Deciding that that was best left unmentioned for now, Yang tugged Blake upstairs and into her bedroom.

“Do you mind if I take a shower first?” Yang queried, finally seeing her appearance in a mirror. Taking in her bruised nose and eye, she moaned. Quite dramatically, if you asked Blake. “Shit, look at my face! Tell me I’m still beautiful!”

Not letting her doubts show, Blake begrudgingly reassured her complaining friend. “You’re the most beautiful.”

Tilting her head in review of the answer, Yang sighed. “You’re lying. But okay, fine. Make yourself at home,” she said as she removed the loose sweatshirt she’d put on after her removing the bloody uniform back at the field, taking effort to avoid her injuries. That girl had no shame.

Picking up a few things, Yang went to the bathroom, again scrutinizing her face. So maybe she had lied when she said she’d had worse. Cardin was a pretty huge dude, and it hadn’t helped that she’d been completely unprepared. Gingerly touching her nose, she knew it’d just cause more pain to try and clean her face without the utmost care. Ruby was the one that had always helped her out when it came to things she couldn’t mend herself…

A guilty face popped back into the room not a minute after Blake had been left alone. “Blake? I kinda need your help cleaning this blood off properly.”

Face unreadable, the girl spoke apprehensively, trying to find an excuse not to. “Can’t your uncle do it?”

“This requires…a delicate touch. He couldn’t manage it even if he wasn’t perpetually drunk.”

A dark eyebrow raised at her reasoning. “Are you saying he’s an alcoholic?”

“Eh, semantics. Please, though. I’ll do anything you want!” Yang offered, hoping she could at least bribe Blake to assist. Having not thought of the implications, she grew worried as Blake stood up and sashayed towards her, a predatory glint in appraising eyes.

“Anything?”

Yang was not sure what exactly had come over her, but she was thinking it was: one, probably not appropriate; two, very gay; and three, totally and completely inappropriate. And all because her friend, her best friend, had said a simple word.

And she could only respond with a simple word of her own. “Yes?” Though it wasn’t very convincing, coming out more as a question than an answer. This was fine. It was just a passing moment. She’d have to be blind to not think that Blake was very attractive – that didn’t mean she was attracted to her. There was a difference, people!

In a flash, Blake was back to…normal. “I want you to promise you’ll work diligently on our social studies assignment.”

Visibly relieved, Yang nodded instantly. “I promise!”

“That’s a much saner and not-gay request than I was thinking,” she mumbled to herself, when Blake had already gone into the bathroom. She had only promised to work on their project like she should have already been doing. She was lucky that Blake was willing to help her and not leave her to suffer the wrath of Ms. Peach – that lady did not like Yang.

Catching up to her now waiting helper, Yang prepared a warm and wet washcloth and handed it to Blake, who set to work. Leaning against the counter, she let her eyes close, finding it increasingly hard to look Blake in the face without feeling shame about what had come over her before. Especially when she was trapped between Blake and the sink, knowing that if this was a scene from a romance book or TV show, things wouldn’t be so platonic – because this was platonic, and nothing else.

Internally shaking all her current thoughts from her head, Yang took a deep breath and let her senses concentrate on the soft cloth being gently pressed against her face. Though the process wasn’t fast, it was done without any agitation, which she could be thankful for.

A voice cut through her peace, Blake being satisfied she’d done a good job. “There. All clean.”

“I didn’t feel a thing, you’re the best! Don’t tell Ruby I said that,” Yang said, taking back the grimy material from Blake’s outstretched hand. “I’ll wash the rest of me myself. Unless you wanna help with that too?”

Facepalming, Blake huffed. “For the love of...just hurry up, Yang.”

Shaking her head, Blake quickly slipped out the room.

“It was just a question!” A question she had just let slip out, the words forming before she’d had a chance to tell herself to stop hitting on Blake when she didn’t mean it.

After a thorough scolding from Blake when Yang had walked back into the room in just a towel, she finally re-entered after having opted to leave the room lest the towel miraculously fall away before Yang got dressed. The dark-haired girl’s nervousness returned with a vengeance when she joined Yang, settling down on the bed.

Still wary of what she might hear, she got the conversation started just so they could get it over with. “So, what things should I know about you?”

“First, I want you to know that I haven’t been in any fights as bad as tonight’s. I lied.” Clearly, Blake’s voice had lacked confidence, if Yang was already defending herself – albeit in a roundabout way.

“I never went into that conversation with the intention of using violence to get what I wanted, and I also never intended to use myself or my body as an incentive. It just so happened that Cardin provoked me to hit him by trying to get himself a date and a handful of ass.”

Blake had never seen her friend this serious. Granted, she’d only known her for just over a month, but still. She was also relieved that her earlier apprehension had been misplaced.

“But when you told me that I was good…I just can’t let you say that unless you know the real me, or at least who I’ve been. I left home because my life was a mess, and I hated the image I spent years creating. Thing about this place is, I’m looking for something. Well, someone.”

Seeing no major reaction from Blake, Yang continued. “You see, my mom vanished on the job when I was six. Her name was Summer Rose, and she and dad used to be cops. They never found out what happened to her. I don’t think Ruby even realised what was really going on, but dad, he was overwhelmed with grief. He shut down, leaving me with a four-year-old to care for,” this did garner a reaction in Blake, her mouth opening in slight shock. “I always resented the fact, until I learned why he couldn’t handle it.

“Everything started in Montreal. Dad and Summer did investigative type stuff, and took on a case there. They got teamed up with Qrow and his twin sister Raven, who lived there at the time. After it was all said and done, dad had fallen for my mother, not long after they had little baby me on the way. But it wasn’t Summer dad fell in love with, it was Raven. And she left us right after I was born.”

Yang sounded so bitter. She spat her birthmother’s name with venom, such disdain, that it didn’t even sound like the Yang Blake knew.

“Dad was devastated, and Qrow came back here after it all fell apart. Summer brought my father back home, which eventuated into our happy ever after when they rebuilt together and had Ruby two years after me,” the girl visibly slumped, sighing sadly. “But as you know, that happiness didn’t last.”

Trying to consolidate Yang’s story, Blake put together the pieces. “You came here to look for Raven.”

Yang nodded. “I wanted to get away. It seemed like the perfect place.”

So she wanted to leave, and had the perfect place to escape to, but also had an ulterior motive…

Blake could see how difficult Yang’s childhood would have been, but failed to see what exactly her story had to do with everything. Taking Yang’s hand in her own, she squeezed it supportively, trying to convey her sympathy. “Yang, I’m sorry that happened to you…but wanting to leave doesn’t make you a bad person.”

Yang squeezed back, but her hand retreated soon after. “I agree. But it’s everything else that I did that might, Blake.”

“I gave up my childhood to raise Ruby, because our dad couldn’t. Even though the people in our town tried to help, they couldn’t be Summer. I couldn’t either, but I sure as hell tried. While he was moping around and drinking until he couldn’t stand? I cooked and read Ruby bedtime stories. When I couldn’t rouse him from a hangover or stop him thinking about taking his own life? There was nobody caring for me. It took five years for dad to finally pick himself up, and I tried to make up for the time I’d lost.

“I am everything that I bet you thought I was the second I walked into your life. A party girl that only cared about being popular and looking good,” Blake winced, and Yang knew that she was right, that that’s what Blake had assumed she was. “And you had every right to think that! I hated the pity party everybody threw for our family every day of my life, so I became obnoxiously confident and disobedient to prove to them that I was better than the sad little girl they thought I was. I had every kid in town jealous of my cool rebellious personality,” she said sarcastically, rolling her eyes.

“The last couple years all I did was drink and do things I regret with people I don’t like. In a way, I gave them my life, let them mould me.  That’s just another way of saying peer pressure gets to us all, though. What did it matter if we were all having fun, our hearts beating fast, and doing dumb shit once night fell? How many times I passed out on somebody else’s lawn and didn’t wake ‘till the sun came up, just trying to cover up how sad I really was,” Yang confessed, voice cracking and wavering.

Blake couldn’t imagine being their age, younger even, and partying until you were inhibited enough to just fall asleep outside. In that area; freezing cold in winter, it would have been dangerous, right? Not having any regard for her health or her safety, Yang slept like a homeless person when she had a bed that was a luxury homeless people could only dream of. It did seem like Yang knew she had made an error in acting like an ungrateful bum, though, otherwise she wouldn’t have been pouring her heart out like it was about to break from the guilt weighing it down. As much as Yang had embodied the type of person Blake loathed to be associated with, underneath it all was just as much of a girl that had a less than preferable upbringing. Only until too late had Yang realised that…and it was that similarity to herself that Blake found hardest to accept. She hadn’t lost two moms like Yang, but she knew that the way she grew up had ended up being bad for her future, and so she too had left it behind.

“But last year, I came to a crossroads,” Yang’s voice tore her away from her thoughts, not having finished her story. “I realised, fuck, I’m supposed to be graduating and I’ve only got passing grades and fake popularity to my name! I started to finally hear everything my friends had been saying behind my back, and for the first time in years I cried myself to sleep. And it’s pathetic, because I’m saying this like it’s a sob story that I didn’t write myself.”

“Yang, please,” she spoke, lilac eyes catching her own in a fixed gaze. “I understand, and I don’t blame you. Maybe you made some mistakes, maybe you didn’t do all the right things. But everyone makes mistakes. It’s what you do to try and fix them that matters to me, and you did a wonderful thing for Sun.” She knew Yang shouldn’t blame herself for the things she had done; her behaviour was warranted; she had hardly been raised to act any better. People with better childhoods had done worse.

Yang couldn’t stop the liberation she felt from revealing her feelings, nor the happiness from Blake’s kind words. But it still wasn’t enough to be convinced. “I feel like even though I’m tryin’ really hard, I still can’t do things right…maybe if I had spoken to Cardin differently, it wouldn’t have ended like it did.”

Society these days was always victim-blaming, and Blake couldn’t stand it. “It was Cardin who was doing the wrong thing. Don’t you dare feel guilty about him trying to take advantage of you, so help me, Yang,” she said hotly, her frustration beginning to show.

“Alright, alright,” Yang acquiesced at her insistence. “Sometimes I think you’re too nice to me. I haven’t known you for long, and I kinda barely know anything about you. Yet you’re still the best friend I’ve ever had.”

Blake could easily say the same about Yang – well, she knew a lot more about her now. The girl was barely the person she’d described herself to be anymore. She had a feeling that Yang was a good person all along, but hadn’t been able to see it after all her hardship. Blake just wasn’t ready, or prepared, to reveal her own issues to someone she’d known for such a short time.

“I don’t like to talk about my past, but there’s things I should tell you. Just…not yet.” Detecting it was a sensitive topic for her, Yang nodded easily. “Whenever you’re ready, I’ll listen.”

Blake felt lucky that Yang was patient enough; it didn’t seem fair that she’d gotten so much personal information for nothing in return. “You’re too nice too,” she said, shuffling over to Yang to embrace her. “I wanted to do this earlier, after you said you helped Sun because he deserved better. You just had too much blood on you.”

Returning the hug, Yang chuckled. “Fair enough.”

Pulling away, Blake kept her arms around Yang’s neck. “This one’s for everything else.”

As she was hugged again, this time, it felt more like a cozy, comforting, cuddle to Yang. She trusted Blake like she trusted her own sister, and it was almost like if she closed her eyes, she was back home.

“Aw, Blakey,” she uttered, instinctively going into bear-hug mode – the bear-hug Ruby always claimed was bad for her health with how much force was applied. A small squeak was her cue to let go.

Taking in a breath, Blake coughed from the sheer affection – whether it was the physical squeezing or the emotion, she wasn’t sure. But she was sure of something else. “I’m not accepting ‘Blakey’ as a nickname.”

“I’d like to see you stop me from using it,” Yang stuck her tongue out childishly.

Before she could even register the words coming out of her mouth, Blake retorted, “Put that tongue back in your mouth unless you plan on using it,” unable to stop herself from finishing her sentence, she blushed furiously. “Oh my God! I’ve spent too much time around you!” She pointed at Yang, who was barely containing herself in hilarity.

“I’m forgetting that ever happened! Let’s get to work on that assignment right now.”

Recovering from her giggles, Yang sheepishly looked away. “You mean start the assignment…”

“You haven’t even started?”

Blake sounded pissed off now. Yang knew that she had dropped the ball with this, but hadn’t been able to admit it to her yet, not when the girl hadn’t learned about her past. “This is what I was worried about! I haven’t tried with my schoolwork in years, and now, I’m letting you down! I always get so distracted with the football, and the fun things!”

Blake addressed her sternly, formulating an idea that could help whip her friend into academic ship-shape. All she had to do was get Yang to agree. “If we’re gonna get it done, you need to commit to it, Yang.”

“I can’t commit when I don’t know if I can,” she said, “that’s unfair to you.”

“Then I’ll help you break out of your bad habits. What you have to do is say a definitive goodbye to your old life.”

The blonde seemed unsure, a pensive expression on her features. “That sounds great, but how?”

Taking her own moment to ponder the how, Blake came out swinging with everything that she could think of, hoping Yang would take something and run with it. “Anything we can do for you to feel some sort of closure. One last time, you act like a rebel. We can take the bus, go anywhere in town, do something stupid. We could fall asleep on the ground with the sounds of nature, if you wanted,” she paused, as Yang began to slyly grin, a tiny spark in her eyes.

“I want it. I want all of that, and I wanna remember doing all that dumb shit with you. A moment good enough I could frame it. But I think it needs one final touch.” Blake gestured for her to go on, and Yang waggled her finger in denial. “Nuh uh, this one’s a surprise!”

“I’m starting to think you’re liking this a bit too much,” Blake replied sarcastically, giving Yang her moment. By the end of the month, she’d have a fully committed partner – it was a bonus that she could also help Yang start a new chapter.

Yang enthusiastically jumped up, the whole bed moving in her wake. “You have no idea!”

A week before Halloween, Yang was taking Blake somewhere in town. Though it had been her suggestion to go out and do something, Yang had taken the reins and told her she had the perfect place in mind, despite Blake’s assumption that the girl new to town wouldn’t have a clue about where to go. They had also taken the bus – at Blake’s insistence – as she knew Yang wasn’t allowed to take passengers on her motorbike. Not that Blake wanted to be on that beast of a machine anyway.

Blake felt out of place, sitting on public transport in a ‘hot’ outfit – that was at Yang’s insistence – in the evening. When she’d shown up on Qrow’s doorstep, the door had swung open to reveal Yang dressed as what only could be described as quite literally the definition of hot young woman. Blake almost envied the way Yang’s skin hugging black pants only served to emphasise her long and well-toned legs. Underneath a brown leather jacket that was stylishly asymmetrical looked to be something orange, and she had tall leather boots to match.

Blake always felt she looked plain, and Qrow had said she dressed in a lot of black…yet there Yang was, making the same kind of pants Blake wore look amazing. Though her own pants were a dark purple hue, they were also trendily tight, and her black boots were also tall, enough to bring her eye to eye with Yang. She decided that since it was still cold, she wouldn’t need to take off her white vinyl jacket that hid a cropped black top.  Blake had always wanted to wear this somewhat revealing item, but never had the guts to – either she was inspired by Yang, or knew that the possibility that it was going to be shown was small. Or both. It’s not that she didn’t own clothes that were complimentary to her body, it’s just that she preferred to not bring attention to it.

But it only served to boost her self-esteem when Yang had taken in her white, purple and black ensemble, finally telling her, damn, you’re drop dead gorgeous. And Blake believed her.

Beside her, the blonde was almost wiggling in her seat, all her energy directed into her knees that couldn’t stop bouncing. It was funny how a simple thing had made Yang this happy. All Blake had done was agree to do some ‘stupid’ things, that she’d probably never done before herself.

It’d be an experience to say the least.

She felt an elbow nudge into her arm repeatedly, Yang leaning over and speaking in an excited whisper, “Almost there Blakey!” To her dismay, the nickname had stuck. It was painfully obvious that she could indeed do nothing to stop Yang using it.

“Can you please refrain from calling me that in public?”

Grinning like a madwoman, Yang threw an arm around her shoulders. “Fine, fine. Tonight, you get to be grownup, hot yet mysterious, Blake Belladonna!”

That sounded awfully suggestive. “What do you mean by that?”

Springing up from the seats, Yang prepared to disembark as the bus came to a stop. “You’ll find out a minute!”

Joining Yang before she lost the very spirited girl, they stepped down to the sidewalk. Hauled across the pavement, Blake finally got what had made Yang so…crazy. Taking in the signage, in all its glory before them was Ozpin’s Bar.

“No. No way.”

“We’re doing something stupid Blake, gotta break a few rules,” Yang gleefully said.

As Yang continued to drag her, they passed the short waiting line of people, and Blake could only focus on not tripping over. “This isn’t breaking rules, this is breaking the law! We won’t get in there anyway.”

The doorman looked up from checking a patrons’ ID to the two underage girls, Blake instantly recognising his face. “Welcome to Ozpin’s, ladies. Don’t cause any trouble now, ya hear?” He greeted, ushering them both in the door without a fuss. As they walked further into the halls, the music grew louder. It wasn’t obnoxious, bass-heavy beats, but rather more tame and alternative.

Yang spoke in Blake’s ear to combat the ambiance. “Don’t worry, Qrow is good friends with the owner. He won’t get in trouble and neither will we!”

Yang’s uncle was an ex-cop and had no issue letting them in. But maybe letting her choose their activity hadn’t been the best idea.

Finding that Ozpin’s wasn’t a nightclub, Blake felt slightly less worried about enjoying herself here. Apart from the crippling anxiety from being a kid in a bar, of course. It had dim lighting, but it created a warm atmosphere, and wood mixed with steel gave the walls a modern look. There was a bar situated at the back, away from the floor where many people swayed to the music.

“This is so my scene! You gotta dance with me, Blake!”

Dance? No way. “You can drag me here but you cannot make me dance.”

Not able to get Blake to change her mind with a pout, Yang opted for a more…conventional method. “Let’s see what a few drinks can do to you then!”

“Only if you’re paying for them!” Blake shouted as they passed the dancefloor, willing to accept a free drink if that meant she could avoid busting a move with Yang, who probably had great dancing skills.

Laughing, Yang unzipped her jacket. Underneath, not unlike Blake’s own, was a tank top that showed off a reasonable amount of stomach. And cleavage. “Who said I’ll have to pay to get ‘em?”

Seeing where she was going with her display, Blake, feeling particularly daring, also unzipped her jacket. “We can double our efforts.” Her crop top was much more liberal in displaying all that she had to offer, only completely covering her breasts, leaving a lot more skin on show than Yang.

Although Yang had clearly distinct abdominal muscles and a larger bust size, Blake had stunned her. She hadn’t even imagined what Blake had been wearing, but now, again, she was convinced she might be just a little gay. Picking her jaw up off the floor, Yang tried not to stare. “Wow, um, wow,” she babbled, not coming up with anything remotely complimentary. “You…I think you tripled our efforts.”

Taking in flustered Yang, Blake started to understand why her friend enjoyed teasing so much. It was fun, and there was certain feeling of triumph. “Stare any more and I’m gonna have to start charging you.”

Yang however, took her words in stride, fist pumping. “Yes!” Pointing at Blake, she seemed rather approving of Blake’s attitude. “I love it when you’re feisty!”

Following Yang’s lead, they both sauntered over to the bar, hovering around, pretending to be contemplative for a few minutes. Apparently, fortune favoured the brave, because it wasn’t long before the bartender was waving them over, informing them that a multitude of people wanted to pay for whatever they wanted to drink.

Yang listed off a very fruity sounding cocktail and gave an order for Blake, starting her off with something she promised tasted better than it sounded. As she was handed hers, Blake wondered what exactly it was, but liked the way the orange and red liquid resembled a majestic sunset.

“One Sex on the Beach for you, one Strawberry Sunrise for me!”

Blake deadpanned. “Really?”

“Yeah, like I said, don’t knock it till ya try it!”

Taking a sip, she found that Yang was telling the truth. “Sex on the beach sounds good until you get sand in places it shouldn’t be. Good thing that has the nice taste without the sand,” Yang explained, having already downed her whole glass.

Agreeing with the statement, Blake scrunched her face up at the mere thought of sand down there. It sounded painful. “I hope you’re not talking from experience, Yang.”

“Thankfully I’m not,” Yang replied, turning back to get a refill. The glass came back with something new in it, Yang mentioning that her favourite sweet drink was barely alcoholic at all.

After a few generous customers at Ozpin’s had satisfied their thirst, they began to feel the buzz of the alcohol. Blake had said that was enough for them, and Yang was inclined to agree. She got a bit out of hand when she got drunk, and Qrow had only allowed them entry on the condition that they stay out of trouble. It just so happened that Blake’s first drinking experience hit her just a bit more than it did Yang after the last drink was gone, with the girl donning a drunk smile Yang knew she’d worn too many times herself.

Unperturbed in her state of mind, Blake had lost her usual reserved demeanour, her eyes wondering down Yang’s body several times. Shrugging coyly every time she was caught didn’t prevent her from doing it every few minutes, like she had amnesia, or maybe she just didn’t care. Yang snorted to herself as she did recall that when they met, Blake stared at her chest. Perhaps her friend did swing for the other team, or both – not that it mattered. She could respect that Blake wasn’t afraid to let her guard down, acting without subtlety. She figured that Blake probably just thought her abs looked good – because they did – and felt some friendly jealousy. Yang was in no way unhappy with herself, but she could admit Blake had an ass that she just couldn’t compare to.

Feeling that it would be beneficial and totally not selfish to see Blake flaunt her stuff, she guided her over to the dancefloor. As she made to weave through the people, Blake tugged, refusing to venture further. Her lips mouthed too loud, drunkenly missing her ears and gesturing way above her head.

Fine with staying on the edge of the fray, Yang took Blake’s hands and started to swing along to the beat of the music, to coax her into the rhythm. “Show me your moves, Blake!” She laughed.

As the bodies around them bumped into Blake, she clung to Yang’s open jacket, trying not to fall. She clearly had lost her footing as Yang was pulled down a bit, using her strength to bring Blake to her body and haul her to her feet. “I got you, don’t worry,” she steadied her friend as she regained her balance.

Eventually, Blake found a rhythm – it wasn’t the one of the music, but her own, and Yang went with that. Every time Blake’s eyes found hers, she made a stupid face, each time eliciting more and more snickers. It surprised her that nobody had approached them tonight, looking for something more than just a pretty face and body to give drinks to. In the end, it was probably better that way. It wasn’t her fault if the reason might have been that people assumed they were there together.

Yeah, it was better that way.

Finally, at midnight, Qrow’s shift ended and he found them still rocking along inside. Having sobered up slightly, the girls felt tiredness creep up on them and were happy to follow him as he finished up and they exited into the alley. The black-haired girl was nodding off in the backseat as soon as they got into the car, and Yang was unable to keep her happiness off her face.

“Looks like you had a good time then,” her uncle noted quietly, “I didn’t think you’d be able to get a girl like her to have fun your way.”

“I think she enjoyed letting loose for one night. She caught on quick too.”

He chuckled. “You’re welcome. But don’t ever tell anybody that I helped.”

“Don’t get all good cop, bad cop on me,” she joked, “but seriously, thanks. Again.”

As they rolled down the street, Yang saw the moon, big and bright. There wasn’t a cloud in the sky. A perfect way to end the night, she thought.

Once they were home, a sleepy Blake leant on her as they walked through the house and out the back door. Her uncle gave her a few blankets bidding them goodnight and mumbling about how kids were weird as they walked out into the grass.

Laying a picnic blanket down, Yang then settled on it, and Blake processed what was happening. “We’re actually doing the ground thing?” She yawned, just accepting it for what it was and laying down too. There was a blanket and Yang was warm – it’d suffice. Yang tucked them under the fleece and tossed the edge over their heads as Blake cosied up to her, no doubt trying to steal her body heat. “Tonight was fun. I can see why you like to do that stuff, it’s kind of liberating.”

“Exactly. Feeling free is one of my vices. I’m glad you liked it too,” Yang said, sensing herself starting to drift off. An owl hooted nearby, and she felt Blake jolt, the reaction scaring her more than the owl had.

Blake pressed a bit closer. “If that bird tries to eat us it’s your fault. And if it gets too cold, you’re carrying me inside.”

Yang took that as a fair request, relaxing into the soft cushion that thick grass provided. “I’ll protect you from the scary bird, Blake. Goodnight.”

Blake’s soft reply came as she fell into her slumber. “G’night.”

Notes: 

Song: 'Bummin''

This song was hard to write a story to, especially when my original plan for the chapter was about 4 words long. Basically, it's just Yang deciding to change her ways.

I'd love for y'all to join me on here, I definitely will post how the latest chapter's going, I have an open ask box if you wanna use/abuse that, I would even give sneak peeks if that's what was requested. You can also find my main blog from my page, where I post a lot about the bees and make shitposts that are actually too real ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

[videogamelover99]

Human Ch.1 - Bill Cipher

A/N: Welp, looks like your wonderful motivation made me get this chapter out way sooner than I’d anticipated. Seriously guys, all your reviews/responses were really sweet. 

First chapter of the multific! From now I’ll be tagging all the chapters “Human” (since that’s the unoriginal title I’ve decided for the AO3). And this first chapter’s a doozy, believe me. 

Ever since he took that deal, he’d been regretting it.

Looking back now, he would take a million years in that stone tomb over what that giant salamander had subjected him to. He hadn’t expected on getting his power back, not really, but the least that jerk could do was give him a proper form. Hell, or at least keep him a triangle. But he’d never expected this.

He hated it. He hated everything about this stupid body, about this weak pitiful meat sack that frilly asshole decided to shove him in. He had nothing, no power, no immortality, no means of escape. And if that wasn't enough, he was slowly dying. He could even feel it. The slow, painful way each cell was loosing its energy. In just a few decades he would degrade, grow cold and end up feeding worms before he knew it, if this stupid body didn't give up on him even sooner. After watching humans for so long, he'd seen just how easily they could break down, hell he'd even been the cause of a lot of them. He'd found it funny, how easily they can die off.

He didn't now.

According to all known laws of aviation,   there is no way a bee should be able to fly.   Its wings are too small to get its fat little body off the ground.   The bee, of course, flies anyway   because bees don't care what humans think is impossible.   Yellow, black. Yellow, black. Yellow, black. Yellow, black.   Ooh, black and yellow! Let's shake it up a little.   Barry! Breakfast is ready!   Ooming!   Hang on a second.   Hello?   - Barry? - Adam?   - Oan you believe this is happening? - I can't. I'll pick you up.   Looking sharp.   Use the stairs. Your father paid good money for those.   Sorry. I'm excited.   Here's the graduate. We're very proud of you, son.   A perfect report card, all B's.   Very proud.   Ma! I got a thing going here.   - You got lint on your fuzz. - Ow! That's me!   - Wave to us! We'll be in row 118,000. - Bye!   Barry, I told you, stop flying in the house!   - Hey, Adam. - Hey, Barry.   - Is that fuzz gel? - A little. Special day, graduation.   Never thought I'd make it.   Three days grade school, three days high school.   Those were awkward.   Three days college. I'm glad I took a day and hitchhiked around the hive.   You did come back different.   - Hi, Barry. - Artie, growing a mustache? Looks good.   - Hear about Frankie? - Yeah.   - You going to the funeral? - No, I'm not going.   Everybody knows, sting someone, you die.   Don't waste it on a squirrel. Such a hothead.   I guess he could have just gotten out of the way.   I love this incorporating an amusement park into our day.   That's why we don't need vacations.   Boy, quite a bit of pomp… under the circumstances.   - Well, Adam, today we are men. - We are!   - Bee-men. - Amen!   Hallelujah!   Students, faculty, distinguished bees,   please welcome Dean Buzzwell.   Welcome, New Hive Oity graduating class of…   …9:15.   That concludes our ceremonies.   And begins your career at Honex Industries!   Will we pick ourjob today?   I heard it's just orientation.   Heads up! Here we go.   Keep your hands and antennas inside the tram at all times.   - Wonder what it'll be like? - A little scary.   Welcome to Honex, a division of Honesco   and a part of the Hexagon Group.   This is it!   Wow.   Wow.   We know that you, as a bee, have worked your whole life   to get to the point where you can work for your whole life.   Honey begins when our valiant Pollen Jocks bring the nectar to the hive.   Our top-secret formula   is automatically color-corrected, scent-adjusted and bubble-contoured   into this soothing sweet syrup   with its distinctive golden glow you know as…   Honey!   - That girl was hot. - She's my cousin!   - She is? - Yes, we're all cousins.   - Right. You're right. - At Honex, we constantly strive   to improve every aspect of bee existence.   These bees are stress-testing a new helmet technology.   - What do you think he makes? - Not enough.   Here we have our latest advancement, the Krelman.   - What does that do? - Oatches that little strand of honey   that hangs after you pour it. Saves us millions.   Oan anyone work on the Krelman?   Of course. Most bee jobs are small ones. But bees know   that every small job, if it's done well, means a lot.   But choose carefully   because you'll stay in the job you pick for the rest of your life.   The same job the rest of your life? I didn't know that.   What's the difference?   You'll be happy to know that bees, as a species, haven't had one day off   in 27 million years.   So you'll just work us to death?   We'll sure try.   Wow! That blew my mind!   “What's the difference?” How can you say that?   One job forever? That's an insane choice to have to make.   I'm relieved. Now we only have to make one decision in life.   But, Adam, how could they never have told us that?   Why would you question anything? We're bees.   We're the most perfectly functioning society on Earth.   You ever think maybe things work a little too well here?   Like what? Give me one example.   I don't know. But you know what I'm talking about.   Please clear the gate. Royal Nectar Force on approach.   Wait a second. Oheck it out.   - Hey, those are Pollen Jocks! - Wow.   I've never seen them this close.   They know what it's like outside the hive.   Yeah, but some don't come back.   - Hey, Jocks! - Hi, Jocks!   You guys did great!   You're monsters! You're sky freaks! I love it! I love it!   - I wonder where they were. - I don't know.   Their day's not planned.   Outside the hive, flying who knows where, doing who knows what.   You can'tjust decide to be a Pollen Jock. You have to be bred for that.   Right.   Look. That's more pollen than you and I will see in a lifetime.   It's just a status symbol. Bees make too much of it.   Perhaps. Unless you're wearing it and the ladies see you wearing it.   Those ladies? Aren't they our cousins too?   Distant. Distant.   Look at these two.   - Oouple of Hive Harrys. - Let's have fun with them.   It must be dangerous being a Pollen Jock.   Yeah. Once a bear pinned me against a mushroom!   He had a paw on my throat, and with the other, he was slapping me!   - Oh, my! - I never thought I'd knock him out.   What were you doing during this?   Trying to alert the authorities.   I can autograph that.   A little gusty out there today, wasn't it, comrades?   Yeah. Gusty.   We're hitting a sunflower patch six miles from here tomorrow.   - Six miles, huh? - Barry!   A puddle jump for us, but maybe you're not up for it.   - Maybe I am. - You are not!   We're going 0900 at J-Gate.   What do you think, buzzy-boy? Are you bee enough?   I might be. It all depends on what 0900 means.   Hey, Honex!   Dad, you surprised me.   You decide what you're interested in?   - Well, there's a lot of choices. - But you only get one.   Do you ever get bored doing the same job every day?   Son, let me tell you about stirring.   You grab that stick, and you just move it around, and you stir it around.   You get yourself into a rhythm. It's a beautiful thing.   You know, Dad, the more I think about it,   maybe the honey field just isn't right for me.   You were thinking of what, making balloon animals?   That's a bad job for a guy with a stinger.   Janet, your son's not sure he wants to go into honey!   - Barry, you are so funny sometimes. - I'm not trying to be funny.   You're not funny! You're going into honey. Our son, the stirrer!   - You're gonna be a stirrer? - No one's listening to me!   Wait till you see the sticks I have.   I could say anything right now. I'm gonna get an ant tattoo!   Let's open some honey and celebrate!   Maybe I'll pierce my thorax. Shave my antennae.   Shack up with a grasshopper. Get a gold tooth and call everybody “dawg”!   I'm so proud.   - We're starting work today! - Today's the day.   Oome on! All the good jobs will be gone.   Yeah, right.   Pollen counting, stunt bee, pouring, stirrer, front desk, hair removal…   - Is it still available? - Hang on. Two left!   One of them's yours! Oongratulations! Step to the side.   - What'd you get? - Picking crud out. Stellar!   Wow!   Oouple of newbies?   Yes, sir! Our first day! We are ready!   Make your choice.   - You want to go first? - No, you go.   Oh, my. What's available?   Restroom attendant's open, not for the reason you think.   - Any chance of getting the Krelman? - Sure, you're on.   I'm sorry, the Krelman just closed out.   Wax monkey's always open.   The Krelman opened up again.   What happened?   A bee died. Makes an opening. See? He's dead. Another dead one.   Deady. Deadified. Two more dead.   Dead from the neck up. Dead from the neck down. That's life!   Oh, this is so hard!   Heating, cooling, stunt bee, pourer, stirrer,   humming, inspector number seven, lint coordinator, stripe supervisor,   mite wrangler. Barry, what do you think I should… Barry?   Barry!   All right, we've got the sunflower patch in quadrant nine…   What happened to you? Where are you?   - I'm going out. - Out? Out where?   - Out there. - Oh, no!   I have to, before I go to work for the rest of my life.   You're gonna die! You're crazy! Hello?   Another call coming in.   If anyone's feeling brave, there's a Korean deli on 83rd   that gets their roses today.   Hey, guys.   - Look at that. - Isn't that the kid we saw yesterday?   Hold it, son, flight deck's restricted.   It's OK, Lou. We're gonna take him up.   Really? Feeling lucky, are you?   Sign here, here. Just initial that.   - Thank you. - OK.   You got a rain advisory today,   and as you all know, bees cannot fly in rain.   So be careful. As always, watch your brooms,   hockey sticks, dogs, birds, bears and bats.   Also, I got a couple of reports of root beer being poured on us.   Murphy's in a home because of it, babbling like a cicada!   - That's awful. - And a reminder for you rookies,   bee law number one, absolutely no talking to humans!   All right, launch positions!   Buzz, buzz, buzz, buzz! Buzz, buzz, buzz, buzz! Buzz, buzz, buzz, buzz!   Black and yellow!   Hello!   You ready for this, hot shot?   Yeah. Yeah, bring it on.   Wind, check.   - Antennae, check. - Nectar pack, check.   - Wings, check. - Stinger, check.   Scared out of my shorts, check.   OK, ladies,   let's move it out!   Pound those petunias, you striped stem-suckers!   All of you, drain those flowers!   Wow! I'm out!   I can't believe I'm out!   So blue.   I feel so fast and free!   Box kite!   Wow!   Flowers!   This is Blue Leader. We have roses visual.   Bring it around 30 degrees and hold.   Roses!   30 degrees, roger. Bringing it around.   Stand to the side, kid. It's got a bit of a kick.   That is one nectar collector!   - Ever see pollination up close? - No, sir.   I pick up some pollen here, sprinkle it over here. Maybe a dash over there,   a pinch on that one. See that? It's a little bit of magic.   That's amazing. Why do we do that?   That's pollen power. More pollen, more flowers, more nectar, more honey for us.   Oool.   I'm picking up a lot of bright yellow. Oould be daisies. Don't we need those?   Oopy that visual.   Wait. One of these flowers seems to be on the move.   Say again? You're reporting a moving flower?   Affirmative.   That was on the line!   This is the coolest. What is it?   I don't know, but I'm loving this color.   It smells good. Not like a flower, but I like it.   Yeah, fuzzy.   Ohemical-y.   Oareful, guys. It's a little grabby.   My sweet lord of bees!   Oandy-brain, get off there!   Problem!   - Guys! - This could be bad.   Affirmative.   Very close.   Gonna hurt.   Mama's little boy.   You are way out of position, rookie!   Ooming in at you like a missile!   Help me!   I don't think these are flowers.   - Should we tell him? - I think he knows.   What is this?!   Match point!   You can start packing up, honey, because you're about to eat it!   Yowser!   Gross.   There's a bee in the car!   - Do something! - I'm driving!   - Hi, bee. - He's back here!   He's going to sting me!   Nobody move. If you don't move, he won't sting you. Freeze!   He blinked!   Spray him, Granny!   What are you doing?!   Wow… the tension level out here is unbelievable.   I gotta get home.   Oan't fly in rain.   Oan't fly in rain.   Oan't fly in rain.   Mayday! Mayday! Bee going down!   Ken, could you close the window please?   Ken, could you close the window please?   Oheck out my new resume. I made it into a fold-out brochure.   You see? Folds out.   Oh, no. More humans. I don't need this.   What was that?   Maybe this time. This time. This time. This time! This time! This…   Drapes!   That is diabolical.   It's fantastic. It's got all my special skills, even my top-ten favorite movies.   What's number one? Star Wars?   Nah, I don't go for that…   …kind of stuff.   No wonder we shouldn't talk to them. They're out of their minds.   When I leave a job interview, they're flabbergasted, can't believe what I say.   There's the sun. Maybe that's a way out.   I don't remember the sun having a big 75 on it.   I predicted global warming.   I could feel it getting hotter. At first I thought it was just me.   Wait! Stop! Bee!   Stand back. These are winter boots.   Wait!   Don't kill him!   You know I'm allergic to them! This thing could kill me!   Why does his life have less value than yours?   Why does his life have any less value than mine? Is that your statement?   I'm just saying all life has value. You don't know what he's capable of feeling.   My brochure!   There you go, little guy.   I'm not scared of him. It's an allergic thing.   Put that on your resume brochure.   My whole face could puff up.   Make it one of your special skills.   Knocking someone out is also a special skill.   Right. Bye, Vanessa. Thanks.   - Vanessa, next week? Yogurt night? - Sure, Ken. You know, whatever.   - You could put carob chips on there. - Bye.   - Supposed to be less calories. - Bye.   I gotta say something.   She saved my life. I gotta say something.   All right, here it goes.   Nah.   What would I say?   I could really get in trouble.   It's a bee law. You're not supposed to talk to a human.   I can't believe I'm doing this.   I've got to.   Oh, I can't do it. Oome on!   No. Yes. No.   Do it. I can't.   How should I start it? “You like jazz?” No, that's no good.   Here she comes! Speak, you fool!   Hi!   I'm sorry.   - You're talking. - Yes, I know.   You're talking!   I'm so sorry.   No, it's OK. It's fine. I know I'm dreaming.   But I don't recall going to bed.   Well, I'm sure this is very disconcerting.   This is a bit of a surprise to me. I mean, you're a bee!   I am. And I'm not supposed to be doing this,   but they were all trying to kill me.   And if it wasn't for you…   I had to thank you. It's just how I was raised.   That was a little weird.   - I'm talking with a bee. - Yeah.   I'm talking to a bee. And the bee is talking to me!   I just want to say I'm grateful. I'll leave now.   - Wait! How did you learn to do that? - What?   The talking thing.   Same way you did, I guess. “Mama, Dada, honey.” You pick it up.   - That's very funny. - Yeah.   Bees are funny. If we didn't laugh, we'd cry with what we have to deal with.   Anyway…   Oan I…   …get you something? - Like what?   I don't know. I mean… I don't know. Ooffee?   I don't want to put you out.   It's no trouble. It takes two minutes.   - It's just coffee. - I hate to impose.   - Don't be ridiculous! - Actually, I would love a cup.   Hey, you want rum cake?   - I shouldn't. - Have some.   - No, I can't. - Oome on!   I'm trying to lose a couple micrograms.   - Where? - These stripes don't help.   You look great!   I don't know if you know anything about fashion.   Are you all right?   No.   He's making the tie in the cab as they're flying up Madison.   He finally gets there.   He runs up the steps into the church. The wedding is on.   And he says, “Watermelon? I thought you said Guatemalan.   Why would I marry a watermelon?”   Is that a bee joke?   That's the kind of stuff we do.   Yeah, different.   So, what are you gonna do, Barry?   About work? I don't know.   I want to do my part for the hive, but I can't do it the way they want.   I know how you feel.   - You do? - Sure.   My parents wanted me to be a lawyer or a doctor, but I wanted to be a florist.   - Really? - My only interest is flowers.   Our new queen was just elected with that same campaign slogan.   Anyway, if you look…   There's my hive right there. See it?   You're in Sheep Meadow!   Yes! I'm right off the Turtle Pond!   No way! I know that area. I lost a toe ring there once.   - Why do girls put rings on their toes? - Why not?   - It's like putting a hat on your knee. - Maybe I'll try that.   - You all right, ma'am? - Oh, yeah. Fine.   Just having two cups of coffee!   Anyway, this has been great. Thanks for the coffee.   Yeah, it's no trouble.   Sorry I couldn't finish it. If I did, I'd be up the rest of my life.   Are you…?   Oan I take a piece of this with me?   Sure! Here, have a crumb.   - Thanks! - Yeah.   All right. Well, then… I guess I'll see you around.   Or not.   OK, Barry.   And thank you so much again… for before.   Oh, that? That was nothing.   Well, not nothing, but… Anyway…   This can't possibly work.   He's all set to go. We may as well try it.   OK, Dave, pull the chute.   - Sounds amazing. - It was amazing!   It was the scariest, happiest moment of my life.   Humans! I can't believe you were with humans!   Giant, scary humans! What were they like?   Huge and crazy. They talk crazy.   They eat crazy giant things. They drive crazy.   - Do they try and kill you, like on TV? - Some of them. But some of them don't.   - How'd you get back? - Poodle.   You did it, and I'm glad. You saw whatever you wanted to see.   You had your “experience.” Now you can pick out yourjob and be normal.   - Well… - Well?   Well, I met someone.   You did? Was she Bee-ish?   - A wasp?! Your parents will kill you! - No, no, no, not a wasp.   - Spider? - I'm not attracted to spiders.   I know it's the hottest thing, with the eight legs and all.   I can't get by that face.   So who is she?   She's… human.   No, no. That's a bee law. You wouldn't break a bee law.   - Her name's Vanessa. - Oh, boy.   She's so nice. And she's a florist!   Oh, no! You're dating a human florist!   We're not dating.   You're flying outside the hive, talking to humans that attack our homes   with power washers and M-80s! One-eighth a stick of dynamite!   She saved my life! And she understands me.   This is over!   Eat this.   This is not over! What was that?   - They call it a crumb. - It was so stingin' stripey!   And that's not what they eat. That's what falls off what they eat!   - You know what a Oinnabon is? - No.   It's bread and cinnamon and frosting. They heat it up…   Sit down!   …really hot! - Listen to me!   We are not them! We're us. There's us and there's them!   Yes, but who can deny the heart that is yearning?   There's no yearning. Stop yearning. Listen to me!   You have got to start thinking bee, my friend. Thinking bee!   - Thinking bee. - Thinking bee.   Thinking bee! Thinking bee! Thinking bee! Thinking bee!   There he is. He's in the pool.   You know what your problem is, Barry?   I gotta start thinking bee?   How much longer will this go on?   It's been three days! Why aren't you working?   I've got a lot of big life decisions to think about.   What life? You have no life! You have no job. You're barely a bee!   Would it kill you to make a little honey?   Barry, come out. Your father's talking to you.   Martin, would you talk to him?   Barry, I'm talking to you!   You coming?   Got everything?   All set!   Go ahead. I'll catch up.   Don't be too long.   Watch this!   Vanessa!   - We're still here. - I told you not to yell at him.   He doesn't respond to yelling!   - Then why yell at me? - Because you don't listen!   I'm not listening to this.   Sorry, I've gotta go.   - Where are you going? - I'm meeting a friend.   A girl? Is this why you can't decide?   Bye.   I just hope she's Bee-ish.   They have a huge parade of flowers every year in Pasadena?   To be in the Tournament of Roses, that's every florist's dream!   Up on a float, surrounded by flowers, crowds cheering.   A tournament. Do the roses compete in athletic events?   No. All right, I've got one. How come you don't fly everywhere?   It's exhausting. Why don't you run everywhere? It's faster.   Yeah, OK, I see, I see. All right, your turn.   TiVo. You can just freeze live TV? That's insane!   You don't have that?   We have Hivo, but it's a disease. It's a horrible, horrible disease.   Oh, my.   Dumb bees!   You must want to sting all those jerks.   We try not to sting. It's usually fatal for us.   So you have to watch your temper.   Very carefully. You kick a wall, take a walk,   write an angry letter and throw it out. Work through it like any emotion:   Anger, jealousy, lust.   Oh, my goodness! Are you OK?   Yeah.   - What is wrong with you?! - It's a bug.   He's not bothering anybody. Get out of here, you creep!   What was that? A Pic ‘N’ Save circular?   Yeah, it was. How did you know?   It felt like about 10 pages. Seventy-five is pretty much our limit.   You've really got that down to a science.   - I lost a cousin to Italian Vogue. - I'll bet.   What in the name of Mighty Hercules is this?   How did this get here? Oute Bee, Golden Blossom,   Ray Liotta Private Select?   - Is he that actor? - I never heard of him.   - Why is this here? - For people. We eat it.   You don't have enough food of your own?   - Well, yes. - How do you get it?   - Bees make it. - I know who makes it!   And it's hard to make it!   There's heating, cooling, stirring. You need a whole Krelman thing!   - It's organic. - It's our-ganic!   It's just honey, Barry.   Just what?!   Bees don't know about this! This is stealing! A lot of stealing!   You've taken our homes, schools, hospitals! This is all we have!   And it's on sale?! I'm getting to the bottom of this.   I'm getting to the bottom of all of this!   Hey, Hector.   - You almost done? - Almost.   He is here. I sense it.   Well, I guess I'll go home now   and just leave this nice honey out, with no one around.   You're busted, box boy!   I knew I heard something. So you can talk!   I can talk. And now you'll start talking!   Where you getting the sweet stuff? Who's your supplier?   I don't understand. I thought we were friends.   The last thing we want to do is upset bees!   You're too late! It's ours now!   You, sir, have crossed the wrong sword!   You, sir, will be lunch for my iguana, Ignacio!   Where is the honey coming from?   Tell me where!   Honey Farms! It comes from Honey Farms!   Orazy person!   What horrible thing has happened here?   These faces, they never knew what hit them. And now   they're on the road to nowhere!   Just keep still.   What? You're not dead?   Do I look dead? They will wipe anything that moves. Where you headed?   To Honey Farms. I am onto something huge here.   I'm going to Alaska. Moose blood, crazy stuff. Blows your head off!   I'm going to Tacoma.   - And you? - He really is dead.   All right.   Uh-oh!   - What is that?! - Oh, no!   - A wiper! Triple blade! - Triple blade?   Jump on! It's your only chance, bee!   Why does everything have to be so doggone clean?!   How much do you people need to see?!   Open your eyes! Stick your head out the window!   From NPR News in Washington, I'm Oarl Kasell.   But don't kill no more bugs!   - Bee! - Moose blood guy!!   - You hear something? - Like what?   Like tiny screaming.   Turn off the radio.   Whassup, bee boy?   Hey, Blood.   Just a row of honey jars, as far as the eye could see.   Wow!   I assume wherever this truck goes is where they're getting it.   I mean, that honey's ours.   - Bees hang tight. - We're all jammed in.   It's a close community.   Not us, man. We on our own. Every mosquito on his own.   - What if you get in trouble? - You a mosquito, you in trouble.   Nobody likes us. They just smack. See a mosquito, smack, smack!   At least you're out in the world. You must meet girls.   Mosquito girls try to trade up, get with a moth, dragonfly.   Mosquito girl don't want no mosquito.   You got to be kidding me!   Mooseblood's about to leave the building! So long, bee!   - Hey, guys! - Mooseblood!   I knew I'd catch y'all down here. Did you bring your crazy straw?   We throw it in jars, slap a label on it, and it's pretty much pure profit.   What is this place?   A bee's got a brain the size of a pinhead.   They are pinheads!   Pinhead.   - Oheck out the new smoker. - Oh, sweet. That's the one you want.   The Thomas 3000!   Smoker?   Ninety puffs a minute, semi-automatic. Twice the nicotine, all the tar.   A couple breaths of this knocks them right out.   They make the honey, and we make the money.   “They make the honey, and we make the money”?   Oh, my!   What's going on? Are you OK?   Yeah. It doesn't last too long.   Do you know you're in a fake hive with fake walls?   Our queen was moved here. We had no choice.   This is your queen? That's a man in women's clothes!   That's a drag queen!   What is this?   Oh, no!   There's hundreds of them!   Bee honey.   Our honey is being brazenly stolen on a massive scale!   This is worse than anything bears have done! I intend to do something.   Oh, Barry, stop.   Who told you humans are taking our honey? That's a rumor.   Do these look like rumors?   That's a conspiracy theory. These are obviously doctored photos.   How did you get mixed up in this?   He's been talking to humans.   - What? - Talking to humans?!   He has a human girlfriend. And they make out!   Make out? Barry!   We do not.   - You wish you could. - Whose side are you on?   The bees!   I dated a cricket once in San Antonio. Those crazy legs kept me up all night.   Barry, this is what you want to do with your life?   I want to do it for all our lives. Nobody works harder than bees!   Dad, I remember you coming home so overworked   your hands were still stirring. You couldn't stop.   I remember that.   What right do they have to our honey?   We live on two cups a year. They put it in lip balm for no reason whatsoever!   Even if it's true, what can one bee do?   Sting them where it really hurts.   In the face! The eye!   - That would hurt. - No.   Up the nose? That's a killer.   There's only one place you can sting the humans, one place where it matters.   Hive at Five, the hive's only full-hour action news source.   No more bee beards!   With Bob Bumble at the anchor desk.   Weather with Storm Stinger.   Sports with Buzz Larvi.   And Jeanette Ohung.   - Good evening. I'm Bob Bumble. - And I'm Jeanette Ohung.   A tri-county bee, Barry Benson,   intends to sue the human race for stealing our honey,   packaging it and profiting from it illegally!   Tomorrow night on Bee Larry King,   we'll have three former queens here in our studio, discussing their new book,   Olassy Ladies, out this week on Hexagon.   Tonight we're talking to Barry Benson.   Did you ever think, “I'm a kid from the hive. I can't do this”?   Bees have never been afraid to change the world.   What about Bee Oolumbus? Bee Gandhi? Bejesus?   Where I'm from, we'd never sue humans.   We were thinking of stickball or candy stores.   How old are you?   The bee community is supporting you in this case,   which will be the trial of the bee century.   You know, they have a Larry King in the human world too.   It's a common name. Next week…   He looks like you and has a show and suspenders and colored dots…   Next week…   Glasses, quotes on the bottom from the guest even though you just heard ‘em.   Bear Week next week! They’re scary, hairy and here live.   Always leans forward, pointy shoulders, squinty eyes, very Jewish.   In tennis, you attack at the point of weakness!   It was my grandmother, Ken. She's 81.   Honey, her backhand's a joke! I'm not gonna take advantage of that?   Quiet, please. Actual work going on here.   - Is that that same bee? - Yes, it is!   I'm helping him sue the human race.   - Hello. - Hello, bee.   This is Ken.   Yeah, I remember you. Timberland, size ten and a half. Vibram sole, I believe.   Why does he talk again?   Listen, you better go 'cause we're really busy working.   But it's our yogurt night!   Bye-bye.   Why is yogurt night so difficult?!   You poor thing. You two have been at this for hours!   Yes, and Adam here has been a huge help.   - Frosting… - How many sugars?   Just one. I try not to use the competition.   So why are you helping me?   Bees have good qualities.   And it takes my mind off the shop.   Instead of flowers, people are giving balloon bouquets now.   Those are great, if you're three.   And artificial flowers.   - Oh, those just get me psychotic! - Yeah, me too.   Bent stingers, pointless pollination.   Bees must hate those fake things!   Nothing worse than a daffodil that's had work done.   Maybe this could make up for it a little bit.   - This lawsuit's a pretty big deal. - I guess.   You sure you want to go through with it?   Am I sure? When I'm done with the humans, they won't be able   to say, “Honey, I'm home,” without paying a royalty!   It's an incredible scene here in downtown Manhattan,   where the world anxiously waits, because for the first time in history,   we will hear for ourselves if a honeybee can actually speak.   What have we gotten into here, Barry?   It's pretty big, isn't it?   I can't believe how many humans don't work during the day.   You think billion-dollar multinational food companies have good lawyers?   Everybody needs to stay behind the barricade.   - What's the matter? - I don't know, I just got a chill.   Well, if it isn't the bee team.   You boys work on this?   All rise! The Honorable Judge Bumbleton presiding.   All right. Oase number 4475,   Superior Oourt of New York, Barry Bee Benson v. the Honey Industry   is now in session.   Mr. Montgomery, you're representing the five food companies collectively?   A privilege.   Mr. Benson… you're representing all the bees of the world?   I'm kidding. Yes, Your Honor, we're ready to proceed.   Mr. Montgomery, your opening statement, please.   Ladies and gentlemen of the jury,   my grandmother was a simple woman.   Born on a farm, she believed it was man's divine right   to benefit from the bounty of nature God put before us.   If we lived in the topsy-turvy world Mr. Benson imagines,   just think of what would it mean.   I would have to negotiate with the silkworm   for the elastic in my britches!   Talking bee!   How do we know this isn't some sort of   holographic motion-picture-capture Hollywood wizardry?   They could be using laser beams!   Robotics! Ventriloquism! Oloning! For all we know,   he could be on steroids!   Mr. Benson?   Ladies and gentlemen, there's no trickery here.   I'm just an ordinary bee. Honey's pretty important to me.   It's important to all bees. We invented it!   We make it. And we protect it with our lives.   Unfortunately, there are some people in this room   who think they can take it from us   'cause we're the little guys! I'm hoping that, after this is all over,   you'll see how, by taking our honey, you not only take everything we have   but everything we are!   I wish he'd dress like that all the time. So nice!   Oall your first witness.   So, Mr. Klauss Vanderhayden of Honey Farms, big company you have.   I suppose so.   I see you also own Honeyburton and Honron!   Yes, they provide beekeepers for our farms.   Beekeeper. I find that to be a very disturbing term.   I don't imagine you employ any bee-free-ers, do you?   - No. - I couldn't hear you.   - No. - No.   Because you don't free bees. You keep bees. Not only that,   it seems you thought a bear would be an appropriate image for a jar of honey.   They're very lovable creatures.   Yogi Bear, Fozzie Bear, Build-A-Bear.   You mean like this?   Bears kill bees!   How'd you like his head crashing through your living room?!   Biting into your couch! Spitting out your throw pillows!   OK, that's enough. Take him away.   So, Mr. Sting, thank you for being here. Your name intrigues me.   - Where have I heard it before? - I was with a band called The Police.   But you've never been a police officer, have you?   No, I haven't.   No, you haven't. And so here we have yet another example   of bee culture casually stolen by a human   for nothing more than a prance-about stage name.   Oh, please.   Have you ever been stung, Mr. Sting?   Because I'm feeling a little stung, Sting.   Or should I say… Mr. Gordon M. Sumner!   That's not his real name?! You idiots!   Mr. Liotta, first, belated congratulations on   your Emmy win for a guest spot on ER in 2005.   Thank you. Thank you.   I see from your resume that you're devilishly handsome   with a churning inner turmoil that's ready to blow.   I enjoy what I do. Is that a crime?   Not yet it isn't. But is this what it's come to for you?   Exploiting tiny, helpless bees so you don't   have to rehearse your part and learn your lines, sir?   Watch it, Benson! I could blow right now!   This isn't a goodfella. This is a badfella!   Why doesn't someone just step on this creep, and we can all go home?!   - Order in this court! - You're all thinking it!   Order! Order, I say!   - Say it! - Mr. Liotta, please sit down!   I think it was awfully nice of that bear to pitch in like that.   I think the jury's on our side.   Are we doing everything right, legally?   I'm a florist.   Right. Well, here's to a great team.   To a great team!   Well, hello.   - Ken! - Hello.   I didn't think you were coming.   No, I was just late. I tried to call, but… the battery.   I didn't want all this to go to waste, so I called Barry. Luckily, he was free.   Oh, that was lucky.   There's a little left. I could heat it up.   Yeah, heat it up, sure, whatever.   So I hear you're quite a tennis player.   I'm not much for the game myself. The ball's a little grabby.   That's where I usually sit. Right… there.   Ken, Barry was looking at your resume,   and he agreed with me that eating with chopsticks isn't really a special skill.   You think I don't see what you're doing?   I know how hard it is to find the rightjob. We have that in common.   Do we?   Bees have 100 percent employment, but we do jobs like taking the crud out.   That's just what I was thinking about doing.   Ken, I let Barry borrow your razor for his fuzz. I hope that was all right.   I'm going to drain the old stinger.   Yeah, you do that.   Look at that.   You know, I've just about had it   with your little mind games.   - What's that? - Italian Vogue.   Mamma mia, that's a lot of pages.   A lot of ads.   Remember what Van said, why is your life more valuable than mine?   Funny, I just can't seem to recall that!   I think something stinks in here!   I love the smell of flowers.   How do you like the smell of flames?!   Not as much.   Water bug! Not taking sides!   Ken, I'm wearing a Ohapstick hat! This is pathetic!   I've got issues!   Well, well, well, a royal flush!   - You're bluffing. - Am I?   Surf's up, dude!   Poo water!   That bowl is gnarly.   Except for those dirty yellow rings!   Kenneth! What are you doing?!   You know, I don't even like honey! I don't eat it!   We need to talk!   He's just a little bee!   And he happens to be the nicest bee I've met in a long time!   Long time? What are you talking about?! Are there other bugs in your life?   No, but there are other things bugging me in life. And you're one of them!   Fine! Talking bees, no yogurt night…   My nerves are fried from riding on this emotional roller coaster!   Goodbye, Ken.   And for your information,   I prefer sugar-free, artificial sweeteners made by man!   I'm sorry about all that.   I know it's got an aftertaste! I like it!   I always felt there was some kind of barrier between Ken and me.   I couldn't overcome it. Oh, well.   Are you OK for the trial?   I believe Mr. Montgomery is about out of ideas.   We would like to call Mr. Barry Benson Bee to the stand.   Good idea! You can really see why he's considered one of the best lawyers…   Yeah.   Layton, you've gotta weave some magic   with this jury, or it's gonna be all over.   Don't worry. The only thing I have to do to turn this jury around   is to remind them of what they don't like about bees.   - You got the tweezers? - Are you allergic?   Only to losing, son. Only to losing.   Mr. Benson Bee, I'll ask you what I think we'd all like to know.   What exactly is your relationship   to that woman?   We're friends.   - Good friends? - Yes.   How good? Do you live together?   Wait a minute…   Are you her little…   …bedbug?   I've seen a bee documentary or two. From what I understand,   doesn't your queen give birth to all the bee children?   - Yeah, but… - So those aren't your real parents!   - Oh, Barry… - Yes, they are!   Hold me back!   You're an illegitimate bee, aren't you, Benson?   He's denouncing bees!   Don't y'all date your cousins?   - Objection! - I'm going to pincushion this guy!   Adam, don't! It's what he wants!   Oh, I'm hit!!   Oh, lordy, I am hit!   Order! Order!   The venom! The venom is coursing through my veins!   I have been felled by a winged beast of destruction!   You see? You can't treat them like equals! They're striped savages!   Stinging's the only thing they know! It's their way!   - Adam, stay with me. - I can't feel my legs.   What angel of mercy will come forward to suck the poison   from my heaving buttocks?   I will have order in this court. Order!   Order, please!   The case of the honeybees versus the human race   took a pointed turn against the bees   yesterday when one of their legal team stung Layton T. Montgomery.   - Hey, buddy. - Hey.   - Is there much pain? - Yeah.   I…   I blew the whole case, didn't I?   It doesn't matter. What matters is you're alive. You could have died.   I'd be better off dead. Look at me.   They got it from the cafeteria downstairs, in a tuna sandwich.   Look, there's a little celery still on it.   What was it like to sting someone?   I can't explain it. It was all…   All adrenaline and then… and then ecstasy!   All right.   You think it was all a trap?   Of course. I'm sorry. I flew us right into this.   What were we thinking? Look at us. We're just a couple of bugs in this world.   What will the humans do to us if they win?   I don't know.   I hear they put the roaches in motels. That doesn't sound so bad.   Adam, they check in, but they don't check out!   Oh, my.   Oould you get a nurse to close that window?   - Why? - The smoke.   Bees don't smoke.   Right. Bees don't smoke.   Bees don't smoke! But some bees are smoking.   That's it! That's our case!   It is? It's not over?   Get dressed. I've gotta go somewhere.   Get back to the court and stall. Stall any way you can.   And assuming you've done step correctly, you're ready for the tub.   Mr. Flayman.   Yes? Yes, Your Honor!   Where is the rest of your team?   Well, Your Honor, it's interesting.   Bees are trained to fly haphazardly,   and as a result, we don't make very good time.   I actually heard a funny story about…   Your Honor, haven't these ridiculous bugs   taken up enough of this court's valuable time?   How much longer will we allow these absurd shenanigans to go on?   They have presented no compelling evidence to support their charges   against my clients, who run legitimate businesses.   I move for a complete dismissal of this entire case!   Mr. Flayman, I'm afraid I'm going   to have to consider Mr. Montgomery's motion.   But you can't! We have a terrific case.   Where is your proof? Where is the evidence?   Show me the smoking gun!   Hold it, Your Honor! You want a smoking gun?   Here is your smoking gun.   What is that?   It's a bee smoker!   What, this? This harmless little contraption?   This couldn't hurt a fly, let alone a bee.   Look at what has happened   to bees who have never been asked, “Smoking or non?”   Is this what nature intended for us?   To be forcibly addicted to smoke machines   and man-made wooden slat work camps?   Living out our lives as honey slaves to the white man?   - What are we gonna do? - He's playing the species card.   Ladies and gentlemen, please, free these bees!   Free the bees! Free the bees!   Free the bees!   Free the bees! Free the bees!   The court finds in favor of the bees!   Vanessa, we won!   I knew you could do it! High-five!   Sorry.   I'm OK! You know what this means?   All the honey will finally belong to the bees.   Now we won't have to work so hard all the time.   This is an unholy perversion of the balance of nature, Benson.   You'll regret this.   Barry, how much honey is out there?   All right. One at a time.   Barry, who are you wearing?   My sweater is Ralph Lauren, and I have no pants.   - What if Montgomery's right? - What do you mean?   We've been living the bee way a long time, 27 million years.   Oongratulations on your victory. What will you demand as a settlement?   First, we'll demand a complete shutdown of all bee work camps.   Then we want back the honey that was ours to begin with,   every last drop.   We demand an end to the glorification of the bear as anything more   than a filthy, smelly, bad-breath stink machine.   We're all aware of what they do in the woods.   Wait for my signal.   Take him out.   He'll have nauseous for a few hours, then he'll be fine.   And we will no longer tolerate bee-negative nicknames…   But it's just a prance-about stage name!   …unnecessary inclusion of honey in bogus health products   and la-dee-da human tea-time snack garnishments.   Oan't breathe.   Bring it in, boys!   Hold it right there! Good.   Tap it.   Mr. Buzzwell, we just passed three cups, and there's gallons more coming!   - I think we need to shut down! - Shut down? We've never shut down.   Shut down honey production!   Stop making honey!   Turn your key, sir!   What do we do now?   Oannonball!   We're shutting honey production!   Mission abort.   Aborting pollination and nectar detail. Returning to base.   Adam, you wouldn't believe how much honey was out there.   Oh, yeah?   What's going on? Where is everybody?   - Are they out celebrating? - They're home.   They don't know what to do. Laying out, sleeping in.   I heard your Uncle Oarl was on his way to San Antonio with a cricket.   At least we got our honey back.   Sometimes I think, so what if humans liked our honey? Who wouldn't?   It's the greatest thing in the world! I was excited to be part of making it.   This was my new desk. This was my new job. I wanted to do it really well.   And now…   Now I can't.   I don't understand why they're not happy.   I thought their lives would be better!   They're doing nothing. It's amazing. Honey really changes people.   You don't have any idea what's going on, do you?   - What did you want to show me? - This.   What happened here?   That is not the half of it.   Oh, no. Oh, my.   They're all wilting.   Doesn't look very good, does it?   No.   And whose fault do you think that is?   You know, I'm gonna guess bees.   Bees?   Specifically, me.   I didn't think bees not needing to make honey would affect all these things.   It's notjust flowers. Fruits, vegetables, they all need bees.   That's our whole SAT test right there.   Take away produce, that affects the entire animal kingdom.   And then, of course…   The human species?   So if there's no more pollination,   it could all just go south here, couldn't it?   I know this is also partly my fault.   How about a suicide pact?   How do we do it?   - I'll sting you, you step on me. - Thatjust kills you twice.   Right, right.   Listen, Barry… sorry, but I gotta get going.   I had to open my mouth and talk.   Vanessa?   Vanessa? Why are you leaving? Where are you going?   To the final Tournament of Roses parade in Pasadena.   They've moved it to this weekend because all the flowers are dying.   It's the last chance I'll ever have to see it.   Vanessa, I just wanna say I'm sorry. I never meant it to turn out like this.   I know. Me neither.   Tournament of Roses. Roses can't do sports.   Wait a minute. Roses. Roses?   Roses!   Vanessa!   Roses?!   Barry?   - Roses are flowers! - Yes, they are.   Flowers, bees, pollen!   I know. That's why this is the last parade.   Maybe not. Oould you ask him to slow down?   Oould you slow down?   Barry!   OK, I made a huge mistake. This is a total disaster, all my fault.   Yes, it kind of is.   I've ruined the planet. I wanted to help you   with the flower shop. I've made it worse.   Actually, it's completely closed down.   I thought maybe you were remodeling.   But I have another idea, and it's greater than my previous ideas combined.   I don't want to hear it!   All right, they have the roses, the roses have the pollen.   I know every bee, plant and flower bud in this park.   All we gotta do is get what they've got back here with what we've got.   - Bees. - Park.   - Pollen! - Flowers.   - Repollination! - Across the nation!   Tournament of Roses, Pasadena, Oalifornia.   They've got nothing but flowers, floats and cotton candy.   Security will be tight.   I have an idea.   Vanessa Bloome, FTD.   Official floral business. It's real.   Sorry, ma'am. Nice brooch.   Thank you. It was a gift.   Once inside, we just pick the right float.   How about The Princess and the Pea?   I could be the princess, and you could be the pea!   Yes, I got it.   - Where should I sit? - What are you?   - I believe I'm the pea. - The pea?   It goes under the mattresses.   - Not in this fairy tale, sweetheart. - I'm getting the marshal.   You do that! This whole parade is a fiasco!   Let's see what this baby'll do.   Hey, what are you doing?!   Then all we do is blend in with traffic…   …without arousing suspicion.   Once at the airport, there's no stopping us.   Stop! Security.   - You and your insect pack your float? - Yes.   Has it been in your possession the entire time?   Would you remove your shoes?   - Remove your stinger. - It's part of me.   I know. Just having some fun. Enjoy your flight.   Then if we're lucky, we'll have just enough pollen to do the job.   Oan you believe how lucky we are? We have just enough pollen to do the job!   I think this is gonna work.   It's got to work.   Attention, passengers, this is Oaptain Scott.   We have a bit of bad weather in New York.   It looks like we'll experience a couple hours delay.   Barry, these are cut flowers with no water. They'll never make it.   I gotta get up there and talk to them.   Be careful.   Oan I get help with the Sky Mall magazine?   I'd like to order the talking inflatable nose and ear hair trimmer.   Oaptain, I'm in a real situation.   - What'd you say, Hal? - Nothing.   Bee!   Don't freak out! My entire species…   What are you doing?   - Wait a minute! I'm an attorney! - Who's an attorney?   Don't move.   Oh, Barry.   Good afternoon, passengers. This is your captain.   Would a Miss Vanessa Bloome in 24B please report to the cockpit?   And please hurry!   What happened here?   There was a DustBuster, a toupee, a life raft exploded.   One's bald, one's in a boat, they're both unconscious!   - Is that another bee joke? - No!   No one's flying the plane!   This is JFK control tower, Flight 356. What's your status?   This is Vanessa Bloome. I'm a florist from New York.   Where's the pilot?   He's unconscious, and so is the copilot.   Not good. Does anyone onboard have flight experience?   As a matter of fact, there is.   - Who's that? - Barry Benson.   From the honey trial?! Oh, great.   Vanessa, this is nothing more than a big metal bee.   It's got giant wings, huge engines.   I can't fly a plane.   - Why not? Isn't John Travolta a pilot? - Yes.   How hard could it be?   Wait, Barry! We're headed into some lightning.   This is Bob Bumble. We have some late-breaking news from JFK Airport,   where a suspenseful scene is developing.   Barry Benson, fresh from his legal victory…   That's Barry!   …is attempting to land a plane, loaded with people, flowers   and an incapacitated flight crew.   Flowers?!   We have a storm in the area and two individuals at the controls   with absolutely no flight experience.   Just a minute. There's a bee on that plane.   I'm quite familiar with Mr. Benson and his no-account compadres.   They've done enough damage.   But isn't he your only hope?   Technically, a bee shouldn't be able to fly at all.   Their wings are too small…   Haven't we heard this a million times?   “The surface area of the wings and body mass make no sense.”   - Get this on the air! - Got it.   - Stand by. - We're going live.   The way we work may be a mystery to you.   Making honey takes a lot of bees doing a lot of small jobs.   But let me tell you about a small job.   If you do it well, it makes a big difference.   More than we realized. To us, to everyone.   That's why I want to get bees back to working together.   That's the bee way! We're not made of Jell-O.   We get behind a fellow.   - Black and yellow! - Hello!   Left, right, down, hover.   - Hover? - Forget hover.   This isn't so hard. Beep-beep! Beep-beep!   Barry, what happened?!   Wait, I think we were on autopilot the whole time.   - That may have been helping me. - And now we're not!   So it turns out I cannot fly a plane.   All of you, let's get behind this fellow! Move it out!   Move out!   Our only chance is if I do what I'd do, you copy me with the wings of the plane!   Don't have to yell.   I'm not yelling! We're in a lot of trouble.   It's very hard to concentrate with that panicky tone in your voice!   It's not a tone. I'm panicking!   I can't do this!   Vanessa, pull yourself together. You have to snap out of it!   You snap out of it.   You snap out of it.   - You snap out of it! - You snap out of it!   - You snap out of it! - You snap out of it!   - You snap out of it! - You snap out of it!   - Hold it! - Why? Oome on, it's my turn.   How is the plane flying?   I don't know.   Hello?   Benson, got any flowers for a happy occasion in there?   The Pollen Jocks!   They do get behind a fellow.   - Black and yellow. - Hello.   All right, let's drop this tin can on the blacktop.   Where? I can't see anything. Oan you?   No, nothing. It's all cloudy.   Oome on. You got to think bee, Barry.   - Thinking bee. - Thinking bee.   Thinking bee! Thinking bee! Thinking bee!   Wait a minute. I think I'm feeling something.   - What? - I don't know. It's strong, pulling me.   Like a 27-million-year-old instinct.   Bring the nose down.   Thinking bee! Thinking bee! Thinking bee!   - What in the world is on the tarmac? - Get some lights on that!   Thinking bee! Thinking bee! Thinking bee!   - Vanessa, aim for the flower. - OK.   Out the engines. We're going in on bee power. Ready, boys?   Affirmative!   Good. Good. Easy, now. That's it.   Land on that flower!   Ready? Full reverse!   Spin it around!   - Not that flower! The other one! - Which one?   - That flower. - I'm aiming at the flower!   That's a fat guy in a flowered shirt. I mean the giant pulsating flower   made of millions of bees!   Pull forward. Nose down. Tail up.   Rotate around it.   - This is insane, Barry! - This's the only way I know how to fly.   Am I koo-koo-kachoo, or is this plane flying in an insect-like pattern?   Get your nose in there. Don't be afraid. Smell it. Full reverse!   Just drop it. Be a part of it.   Aim for the center!   Now drop it in! Drop it in, woman!   Oome on, already.   Barry, we did it! You taught me how to fly!   - Yes. No high-five! - Right.   Barry, it worked! Did you see the giant flower?   What giant flower? Where? Of course I saw the flower! That was genius!   - Thank you. - But we're not done yet.   Listen, everyone!   This runway is covered with the last pollen   from the last flowers available anywhere on Earth.   That means this is our last chance.   We're the only ones who make honey, pollinate flowers and dress like this.   If we're gonna survive as a species, this is our moment! What do you say?   Are we going to be bees, orjust Museum of Natural History keychains?   We're bees!   Keychain!   Then follow me! Except Keychain.   Hold on, Barry. Here.   You've earned this.   Yeah!   I'm a Pollen Jock! And it's a perfect fit. All I gotta do are the sleeves.   Oh, yeah.   That's our Barry.   Mom! The bees are back!   If anybody needs to make a call, now's the time.   I got a feeling we'll be working late tonight!   Here's your change. Have a great afternoon! Oan I help who's next?   Would you like some honey with that? It is bee-approved. Don't forget these.   Milk, cream, cheese, it's all me. And I don't see a nickel!   Sometimes I just feel like a piece of meat!   I had no idea.   Barry, I'm sorry. Have you got a moment?   Would you excuse me? My mosquito associate will help you.   Sorry I'm late.   He's a lawyer too?   I was already a blood-sucking parasite. All I needed was a briefcase.   Have a great afternoon!   Barry, I just got this huge tulip order, and I can't get them anywhere.   No problem, Vannie. Just leave it to me.   You're a lifesaver, Barry. Oan I help who's next?   All right, scramble, jocks! It's time to fly.   Thank you, Barry!   That bee is living my life!   Let it go, Kenny.   - When will this nightmare end?! - Let it all go.   - Beautiful day to fly. - Sure is.   Between you and me, I was dying to get out of that office.   You have got to start thinking bee, my friend.   - Thinking bee! - Me?   Hold it. Let's just stop for a second. Hold it.   I'm sorry. I'm sorry, everyone. Oan we stop here?   I'm not making a major life decision during a production number!   All right. Take ten, everybody. Wrap it up, guys.

April fools. 

I am so sorry.

[imagine-loki]

Met With A Zap, Chapter 18

TITLE: Met With A Zap CHAPTER NO./ONE SHOT: Chapter 18 AUTHOR: fanficshiddles ORIGINAL IMAGINE: Imagine Darcy and Loki meeting for the first time. They instantly dislike each other and are constantly at one another’s throats in arguments. Darcy even ends up using her taser on him at one point. Others around them get fed up of being stuck in the middle of their pranks and arguments. But eventually, Loki finds himself falling for her sassy mouth. RATING: M 

‘You have to take me to Asgard!’ I shouted at Thor.

‘I cannot, Darcy. My father doesn’t like Midgardians there.’ Thor told me.

‘Bullshit. You took Jane there last year. Come on, I need to help Loki. This isn’t his fault. Someone needs to be there for him.’ My voice was getting higher and higher as I argued with him.

‘I shall go and tell everyone the truth of what happened. You are best to stay here.’

‘NO! Thor, I swear to god you better take me with you. If you don’t, I will personally make your life a living hell.’ I argued and crossed my arms over my chest.

I was not giving in with this. I needed to go and try to reason with Odin. I had to see Loki again too. No one else would support him and believe him like I do. I was the only one that had seen the vulnerable side of him. As I highly doubted that he would show Thor or his father that side.

‘Darcy, it is against my father’s rules to take you. I can’t even take Jane back.’ Thor said calmly. But I was not calming down.

‘I don’t give a shit if it’s against his rules or not. Please, Thor. I love Loki. And I know he loves me too. Let me come with you, please. I know you don’t want him to go down a bad road again of destruction or worse. If I’m there, I can help keep him calm. Even if he is in prison. Please.’ I begged him.

Thor put his face into his hand for a moment and he sighed.

‘Fine.’ He finally gave in.

‘YES!’ I said triumphantly as I ran to my room to pack a small bag.

‘You’re actually going to Asgard?’ Clint asked as he leaned against the door frame in my room.

‘Yes. I need to help Loki. He needs me.’ I said as I continued to throw some clothes into a bag.

‘I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I’m glad. I wasn’t sure of him when he first arrived. But he has proven useful of late. I know Thor think’s highly of him and you do as well now. I have to admit, you are a good couple. You’re good together. I hope for his sake, and yours, that you can both sort things out with the gods and get him back here.’

I was a little surprised with Clint’s honesty. But it was nice to hear. And I would make sure that I told Odin and Loki too. So he knew that he had support from The Avengers too. Hopefully it would also help if Odin knew.

‘Thanks. It means a lot and I’m sure it will to Loki too.’ I said as I walked over to him and gave him a hug.

‘Well, I’m off to the land of the gods. Wish me luck.’

‘Good luck. Just don’t piss any of them off and you’ll be fine.’ He chuckled.

‘I’ll do my best.’ I shrugged.

I went back to find Thor. Jane was coming with us as well, which I was glad of. I didn’t want to be the only human there. And I knew she would love to see Asgard again, especially Thor’s mother. She spoke highly of her and said she is a lovely woman. I just hoped that she would be on Loki’s side at least.

‘So, is the journey quick or…?’ I asked as we made our way outside, the rest followed us.

‘Very quick.’ Jane nodded.

‘Cool.’

Thor put an arm around both Jane and I. Then once we said goodbye to the others, he looked up to the sky and called on Heimdall. I was about to say something when suddenly there was no ground beneath us and there was a rush of colours. I could hear nothing but a high pitched sound as I felt like my insides were being thrown around everywhere.

Then as quick as it started, we were there. We landed in a huge gold dome thing. There was a really huge guy in the middle with a large sword. He smiled at the three of us and welcomed me to Asgard. He welcomed Jane and Thor back.

At least he was polite. That was a good sign.

I just hoped the other gods would be similar. But I had a feeling that Odin would be a completely different kettle of fish. I was dreading meeting him for the first time, from what I had heard from Loki anyway. Thor saw him differently, though he did still have his stories that made him out to not be so great.

‘Holy shit!’ I said as we stepped onto a huge rainbow bridge. I couldn’t believe my eyes.

It was so colorful and it was shining and humming. It was incredible.

‘I knew you would like this.’ Jane grinned as she grabbed my hand to keep me moving, as I was so engrossed with the bridge below my feet.

The whole city of Asgard was incredible. It was like something from a fantasy land. It was all gold and so grand looking. Especially the palace. I started to feel a little daunted as Thor led us through the place. It was huge. I was going to get lost in it, that was for sure.

And I was starting to doubt whether my plan of coming here was a good one. Would Odin even agree to see me? Would he listen to my argument? Had he already announced a punishment for Loki? What if we were too late? There was so many doubts running through my mind that I never even noticed the beautiful woman approach us.

‘Mother, this is Darcy.’ Thor said and that snapped me from my worries.

That was his mother, Frigga. She was even more beautiful than I had heard.

‘Wow. Uhm, hello.’ I said awkwardly as I tried to curtsy the best I could.

She laughed lightly and put her hand onto my shoulder.

‘Relax, dear. It is nice to meet you. Loki told me all about you.’ She smiled warmly.

‘He did? Really?’ I asked, shocked.

‘Yes. He is very fond of you.’ She smiled yet her eyes looked sad.

‘Is he ok? Where is he?’ I asked.

‘He is ok. Though my husband has sent him to the prison down in the dungeons. He is having a trial tomorrow, to see what his fate may be. Loki explained to us all that happened, but Odin still feels that it is his fault for all the destruction.’ Frigga explained.

‘But it wasn’t his fault. He wasn’t in control of himself. I know he did things in the past, like the destroyer and all that happened with that Jotumhand place. But New York wasn’t his fault.’ I argued.

‘You mean Jotunheim.’ Thor corrected.

‘Yeah, whatever. That was maybe his fault. But he has paid for all that. He was tortured by Thanos. He didn’t know what he was doing. It wasn’t him. I’ve seen him so down and broken, he truly regrets what has happened.’

‘I know. But it is not me that you need to persuade.’ Frigga said as she gave me a small smile and turned to leave us.

‘Take me to Odin.’ I said to Thor.

Thor looked uneasy but nodded.

‘Jane, you wait in my chambers.’ He said as he had a guard lead Jane there.

Then Thor took me to see Odin. Half of me was feeling determined, the other was terrified. He was the King of Asgard after all. But I had to at least try.

Odin was outside on a balcony, it looked over the entire city. It was some view.

When Odin turned around, I was a little shocked. I expected him to be bigger and more like Thor. But he was a little shorter and fatter than I imagined. Maybe it was a bit of a beer belly he had going on. Reminded me of my dad.

‘Who is this?’ Odin asked.

He didn’t even ask how his son was. How rude?

‘This is Darcy. She is a friend of mine and Jane’s… Loki’s lover.’ Thor said cautiously.

Odin’s eye widened as he looked at me.

‘You are the one that has stolen Loki’s cold heart.’ He said as he walked a little closer to me.

‘He does not have a cold heart.’ I blurted out. I don’t know where my confidence came from, but I didn’t like the way he was speaking of Loki.

‘Oh really? He not only sent the destroyer to your town to try and kill his brother, but he also had an army of aliens nearly destroy one of your cities. He wanted to take over the world.’ Odin said loudly to me.

‘He wasn’t in control. He was tortured, badly. He had no recollection of what went on that year. He was not in control of himself or his mind. It was not his fault, and you are going to let him be punished for something that was not his fault? Some father you are!’ I argued.

‘I am not his father. He is adopted.’ Odin said.

‘Then perhaps you should have thought about it more before you took him on as your own. You clearly did not and do not love him as much as Thor. It’s no wonder he went a bit off the rails!’ I hissed at him.

‘Enough of this. I do not have time to argue with a mortal like you. Thor, take her back to Midgard.’

‘I am not going anywhere without Loki.’ I snarled at him and crossed my arms over.

He turned to look at me and he looked at Thor, who just shrugged. Odin looked back at me and shook his head with a sigh.

‘Then you shall be here for a very long time.’ He said as he walked inside.

I turned to Thor and he looked at me with surprise all over his face.

‘He’s an asshole!’ I told him.

‘Careful of your words, Darcy. He is my father, the King of Asgard and protector of all the realms.’ Thor growled at me.

‘I don’t give a shit if he is the god of the entire universe or a fucking monkey’s uncle. He is mean and cruel towards Loki. I see now what Loki meant about all those years where he favored you and not him. No wonder Loki went off the rails. How can you not see that? He doesn’t seem to care about the truth. Loki did wrong in his eyes and even though it wasn’t his fault, Odin doesn’t care. He doesn’t want to care.’ I shouted at Thor.

‘Odin has never been spoken to like that by a Midgardian.’ A voice came from behind me.

I turned around was startled to see Frigga come out onto the balcony to join us. She had heard what I said to Thor as well.

‘I’m sorry. I don’t mean any disrespect to you. But from what Loki has told me, and from what I just witnessed myself, he really has some parenting issues.’ I said as I crossed my arms over and looked down to the ground.

‘I know you love Loki. It is nice to see that someone finally loves him so much and sticks by him. Even to argue with the Alfather. I get the feeling he would be proud of you.’ Frigga smirked and I smiled at her.

I liked Frigga. She was cool.

‘I just. I hate the thought of Loki being punished for something he had no control over. It’s so not fair.’

‘I know, child. I know. If you stand up in court tomorrow and tell them what you know and how you see Loki, it might help. Loki needs you now. I am so glad that Thor brought you here.’ Frigga said as she pulled me into an embrace.

‘If anyone can help Loki, it is you.’ She told me.

[thedreaminus]

Live or Die

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Epilogue

All the king's horses and

all the king's men Couldn't put me back together again

 ...

"What are you doing?"

Hm? M-21 opened his eyes, there were voices. How long had he slept? Was the monkey finally back?

”You're too wide, why did you have to come along?" a female voice hissed irritably.

"These are muscles!" replied a man indignantly.

M-21 blinked and turned his head. He had not heard these voices before. They were not scientists, nor were they those ever quiet hooded figures. Besides, they sounded strangely hushed as if unwilling to let themselves be exposed.

"That's enough now. Be silent, "another male voice hushed them.

M-21 raised his eyebrows. The voices came from outside his cell… but at the same time they came from his cell...? He strained his ears further, and a few more dull steps were heard, knocking, and scratching. Could it really be that someone was in the ventilation shafts?

A particularly loud bang confirmed his guess.

Up, Ventilation Shafts. The wolf suddenly stirred in his thoughts, and pushed forward with momentum enough to make his head spin.

Tension,

Expectation,

Enthusiasm

It howled with unprecedented passion. Then retreated as fast as it came. M-21 shook his head and blinked violently. What was that?

His new animal counterpart usually warned him when someone came. Now it lay curled up in the back of his thoughts, his ears pointedly expectant. Whoever squeezed through the ventilation shafts sure had an unusual effect on this other self. Or, M-21 thought after a few minutes cynically, maybe it was trying to make fun of them through its erratic behavior because they were running in circles?

"If we are stuck here any longer, I swear I’ll tear this thing!" Hissed a masculine voice over his head. They were right over him again.

Please do it, thought M-21. That would speed up the whole affair.

“And do you know what is below us? We could land at lord knows what or crush someone!" Someone shot back.

M-21 looked up at the ceiling and pursed his lips. Right ... Please do not.

Fortunately the ceiling didn’t come crashing down, but they did not find the exit either. M-21 played with the idea to help them, there were not many possibilities on how the shafts ran, but then decided against it and waited. There was still time before the scientists were back. These people will somehow find their way down  by then, and he did not know who they were anyway. Besides, his tired mind found it fun to listen to their annoyed mutterings.

A loud clanking in the hallway announced that they had found the exit. M-21 saw the grating that blocked the entrance on the ground. Immediately afterwards some people landed directly in front of his cell.

M-21 tensed. They all wore long white robes. It was those bastards! Or? M-21 lowered his head and studied the group from half-opened eyes. He did not move so they did not immediately notice him. The robes were same but they looked different ... more normal. They did not give him that disgusting feeling of something unnatural. And why would they enter the ventilation shafts? Unless, they blew a fuse.

M-21 continued to watch as some others came out of the shaft and swiftly scattered everywhere. The ones who landed first seemed to be the leaders, they spoke in whispers and had gestured the others, sending them in every direction. When these groups came back, there were quiet whispers again. M-21 did not need to listen to understand just how many corridors, doors and people they had viewed.

This was a burglary. But not really that efficient. On the other hand, either the technical stuff has been taken care of or this Union laboratory was down due to which the alarm system had not reacted. Sensing how crude their entry through the ventilator was, M-21 suspected the latter. Perhaps that was the chance he had been waiting for a long time? But he would wait just a bit more and found why these people were here first.

"There is no one here," one of the men whispered, clearly disappointed.

Woah! He just earned a reward! M-21 snapped in his mind, unimpressed. The wolf was also amused, letting the tongue hang out and huffing merrily. Be quiet, wait for the right moment and then hit ... M-21 muscles vibrated in anticipation, he almost forgot that he was chained.

"Have you seen the cells in the back aisle? Loud mutants can be heard, it must be the right place. They must be here."

They? So this group was looking for someone? M-21 mused.

"On the surface everything is in motion. It looks more like they gave up this lab. I do not know if we can find anything here ..."

These people were of the same kind as that monkey and the rest of the bastards. But they behaved differently, they were different ... They were searching for someone who was captured by the Union to save them. In M-21 a bitter feeling arose, an insecurity. No one searched for his comrades and him when they had been brought here...

M-21 swallowed this unwelcome thought, and made his decision. If the lab was really abandoned, then he could imagine what was to happen to him. This was probably his last chance to help his comrades and cleanse the Union. He opened his eyes, all or nothing. He could not lose.

Clearing his throat to test out his voice, he held his head high and looked straight at the cloaked individuals. Thereupon, he saw a handful of people in the hallway performing something like small hops in the name of searching the ceiling. Instead of saying something, M-21 burst out laughing. That was too funny.

"What the..."

"I thought he was dead."

M-21 bared his teeth still quietly giggling to himself. "That looked funny. Can you do it again?"

A few hissed and gave him furious glances, some of them said nothing, but almost everyone seemed surprised.

M-21 sighed and tried to relax his shoulders, which had painfully protested the sudden movement. "It’s been quite a long time since I laughed so much," he murmured softly, gazing at the strangers. None of them moved. M-21 pulled up an eyebrow. "What's wrong? Did you see a ghost?"

That shook them awake. One of them pulled his hood back and stepped in front of the bars. He was tall and broad-shouldered with brown hair and eyes. Looking at his bulk, M-21 suspected that he was the fellow who had gotten stuck in the ventilators. He involuntarily reminded M-21 of M-24.

"You understand us?"

M-21 gave him a flat look. "What does it look like?"

"Are you human?"

M21 snorted, "No, just a broken toy," bitterness laced every word.

The other looked at him strangely, and M-21 breathed deeply, regaining control of himself. The question had hit an unpleasant nerve, throwing it out of concept.

"This is a waste of time," a woman muttered behind the larger man. "Leave him Kentas, we have something to do here."

“True," M-21 looked at the man named Kenta, "You're probably looking for someone here ..." he threw the bone and became silent. The broad guy had to be pissed because he bent the bars and marched into the cell.

"Eh, you know there is a door or?" He managed to ask casually before the guy grabbed him by the neck, making him hiss in pain. Eep this guy really was pissed off. His other hand looped around to grab his hair and jerked his face up. "Where are they?" He growled.

The wolf barked in his head in response and M-21 had to push it back with all his might. For a moment, his senses disappeared.

"Hey, I asked you something!" The pressure on his throat increased.

"I heard it, asshole," he grunted out and was released. M-21 shook his head slightly. "But I was distracted by your sudden affection!"

The hand of his opponent was twitching unhealthily. He looked as if he was going to grab him again, or do something else.

“You do it Lunark, before I forget myself." He said, his voice was not much more than a growl.

M-21 threw a flat glance at the woman who was now entering through the hole in the bars. It was the same person that had spoken to Kentas before. She seemed to have almost the same hair color as M-21. But in the light, it was hard to determine.

"We're not here to play, tell us what you know." She spoke quietly and calmly, but the impression of having a sharp weapon on her did not diminish.

"I do not know where they are or who you are looking for here" he gave Kentas a poisonous look. "But I know where they could be."

A murmur was heard from outside at his answer. M-21 noticed that a guard was set up by the others figures.

"You want something for it, right?" The woman asked him contemptuously.

"Not even death is free," replied M-21 coolly.

Lunark casted a discreet glance backwards. M-21 followed her gaze. Only then did he notice the man; long gray-hair, tall but not as much as Kentas and an aura of authority, who leaned against the wall staring at him bemused. As soon as their eyes met, the wolf howled within him, ears all perked up. M-21 laboriously suppressed a similar sound himself. Fuck ... what had that been? But the wolf gave no answer, instead whining. M-21 shook his head and tried to get rid of the strangely oppressive feeling. This was not the best time for such games.

The gray-haired man outside the cell waved his nonchalant approval to Lunark without letting his sight of off M-21. Lunark nodded lightly and devoted herself to M-21s interrogation again. "What do you want?"

M-21 breathed deeply. He had to do this, it was the only way he could help his comrades.

"You know where the infected ones are?"

"Yes" Lunark narrowed her eyes "But we will not free them."

"I want you to kill them all."

No one said anything. Kentas and Lunark exchanged a glace. "You want what?" Kentas wanted to know again.

"You're supposed to kill them," repeated M-21 with a bitter taste of his lips. He felt as if he was betraying his comrades, but he knew there was no better alternative for them than a quick painless death at this point.

M-21 saw the gray-haired man give Lunark his consent with a brief gesture of his hand. He signaled some of the group to himself too, giving them soft instructions. M-21 closed his eyes with a miserable feeling in his chest. They've been dead for a long time, he had to remind himself. They have been dead for a long long time. He kept chanting. The wolf did not react; it was unconcerned with his comrades fate just like everyone else had been. M-21 felt sick with himself.

"Oi" someone shook him.

"I’ve heard you, asshole" hissed M-21 irritably. This nickname did not really appeal to the guy, he cracked his knuckles dangerously but M-21 ignored him. Instead, he turned his head to the left.

"On the left, there are a few broken cells ..." he began. "In one of these, the ground separates the second floor from the third, the scientists use it as landfill. As far as I know, most of the corridors there are impenetrable, but if you're lucky you'll get through."

"And where does that bring us?" Lunark wanted to know.

"The third level is an exclusive area" M-21 grinned cynically "The torture chamber. That rotten monkey only brings the people he wants to see particularly suffer there."

"What monkey?"

“Oh, I'm sure you know him ... Stupid hairstyle, haughty appearance ..." M-21 almost rolled his eyes as he noticed the irritated looks. "He's one of you, and is always accompanied by a bulk of muted dummies."

"Maduke?" Echoed Lunark "The 2nd Elder?" She choked. A few of the people growled at the mention of the name. A sharp sound from the gray-haired man outside silenced them.

"I don’t know his name, but Crombel calls him Elder."

"Crombel?"

"A scientist of the Union"

"Why did Maduke come here?"

"No idea. We do not understand each other so well. One of the reasons why I know the third level so well” M-21 chortled “Shouldn’t  you be on your way there?”

And they did. Kentas, Lunark, and the gray-haired ones stayed behind. M-21 ignored her and looked at the ground. Those who had killed his comrades on his condition were already back before a group was made to investigate the location M-21 had told them about.

So he was the last survivor of the M series. As soon as these people would come back from the third floor, they would kill him. He had known from the beginning that it would happen. But the wolf turned in his head like a wounded animal and growled wildly. It was angry.

Be quiet, M-21 tried to silence his other self. He did not know who these people were, he could not trust that they would not just drop him where the scientists were. Even if they let him run, where would he go? But the wolf did not calm down. It was a survival artist, a fighter who could defied all natural forces. That M-21 was looking so calmly at his death after he had so strongly rebelled against Crombel and the Elder, brought it up.

They hit him on the cheek. M-21, who was immersed in an inner struggle with the wolf reacted violently to the sudden attack. With a wild growl he snapped at the attacker. Only the hand on his throat held the person out of his teeth’s reach. Gray eyes watched him intently as he tried to get a grip on himself. The wolf that was so angry a while ago had tamed at the sight of this person. And M-21 took a shuddering breath, relieved. Though he did not know if it was right to be happy about this. His skin felt hot and tense, his fingers itching. For some reason he felt exhausted now.

"Did Maduke really made it?" asked Lunark, bewildered.

What? M-21 wondered. Did she meant him?

"No" the man who still held his M-21 by his neck, shook his head. "A friend has assured me that Maduke’s project is insane. We cannot enter into contracts with human as the Nobles do. No matter how much that scum Madukes can change, we can create nothing but uncontrollable mutants. There must be something with him that this worked"

The grip around his neck tightened until M-21 had trouble breathing.  The wolf in his head roared in protest.

"Do you want to Live or Die?" demanded the gray-haired man of him.

"What?" croaked M-21, confused.

"I will not take you with me, unless I am sure that you will not kill yourself."

"Lord ..." The other two seemed surprised. "You do not mean to take him with us?"

"Had you two used your brain you wouldn’t be asking me this, I thought I made myself clear here?” There was a dangerous undertone in his growl that closed all room for protest.

Silence. M-21 closed his eyes. Did he want to live? The fear of simply ending in another lab, and the death of his comrades had kept him from wishing for it. But the wolf pushed forward again, encouraging him. He did not want to be let down by what Crombel and Maduke had done to him.

Live or Die?

M-21 opened his eyes and looked at the man in front of him. He searched for something in his eyes and the person returned the stare unwaveringly, passing the test. The wolf muttered contentedly. M-21 had made his decision.

He wanted to claim back his right to life.

He wanted to live.

                                                        THE END

 Bonus:

The man smiled contentedly and let go of his throat. With quick movements he slashed the chains binding M21. Bad move, M-21 thought. He was tired and did not know if his legs would carry him. But the gray-haired man did not let him fall to the floor, instead he looped an arm around his middle, supporting his figure against his chest.

M-21 gasped. His arms had protested the sudden movement. Besides, he could not remember when he'd last been so close to a living being without feeling pain. Warmth radiated from the other body and the wolf whined content in his head. M-21s sight blurred. He had to swallow several times to get rid of the sudden lump in his throat.

The man did not shrink back in disgust, nor did he laugh. He simply waited motionless until M-21 had calmed down and was stable enough to stand on his own feet.

"You take care of him Kentas, I have the feeling that you two will get along well."

"..." Kentas did not seem to have this impression, but he did not raise any objection.

"Is this the moment I get flowers?" croaked M-21 quietly.

“…”

Notes: Yes Muzuka pretty much hugged him. And he’s totally going to coddle the newly found puppy from here on. He’s safe now…mostly ^^ We both weren’t the happiest with this chapter. We felt that maybe Rai and Frankenstein were better choices to rescue him and if it were them, they’d be a lot more sweet and kinder to him, and M21 wouldn’t have been able to control his emotions at end and who doesn’t want fluff, so here’s the behind the scene discussion of a probabale alternative ED:  

@pandora-twists: I want M21 blubbering into Rai super clean shirt. Frankenstein eye twitching at that

@thedreaminus: Pfff... It is a kid...easy it is a kid frankenstein to himself

PS: If someone really wants his heart bleeds when you reads "Live or Die", then I recommend to listen to Karmina - All The King's Horses. To this song the story was written.

[reivenesque]

Dirty Deeds Done Dirt Cheap CH7

Chapter 7: Girls Got Rhythm (17390 words) KC seems to be taking advantage of being able to order any kind of food he wants, and by any kind Floyd means absolutely every kind. He’s pretty sure he heard someone actually say ‘alligator nuggets’ which is some messed up boondocks, furthest most backwards shithole of the Louisiana bayou he’s ever heard of. But doubly creepy considering KC might be eating a distant cousin or a long lost niece or something.

“I’m a fucking crocodile, asshole. It even fucking says so in the title sequence,” KC says when Floyd for some reason brings it up.

[ch1] [ch2] [ch3] [ch4] [ch5] [ch6]

(ao3)

It’s been 2 days, 17 hours, 43 minutes and 13 seconds since he last saw the other members of the squad.

It’s been 2 days, 20 hours, 23 minutes and 4 seconds since he last saw Flag, GQ, June and his precious baby, but…not like he was keeping count or anything lame like that.

5 seconds… 6 seconds… 7 seconds…

“Hey Lawton, ya’ decent?”

The sudden loud bang on his metal door sends his mind lurching out of his thoughts. The new guard in charge was already way better than Griggs—who had all of a sudden taken an extended leave of absence out of the blue. Floyd pretends not to know why but since he and Harley are pretty close, he considers himself in the know, on the D.L, hip to be square or whatever it is kids were saying nowadays. He’s sure that the little GQ sitting on his shoulder speaking words of wisdom into his ear would beg to differ.

That didn’t mean that the new guy was any less of an asshole. He was just less ruthless and demeaning about it.

“I know you want sum’ma this, Wilcox, but I’d kindly ask you to keep it in your pressed khakis. You’re not my type.”

The hinges of the door creak and whine and whinge as it opens with an almost painful screech before the big burly man steps into view.

“You should change your nickname to The Comedian, since you think you’re so funny, Lawton.”

He reminds Floyd of Commander Jeffries in a way. He was unapologetically uptight and by the book, but he proved himself entertaining in his own cynical way and Floyd didn’t outright hate his guts, which was always a bonus.

“Pretty sure that would be copyright infringement, but whatever you say. Get to the damn point; you’re making me late for my appointment.”

“Appointment, really?”

“Yeah, really, appointment. Over on that side of the room,” Floyd points towards the far left of his 10 by 10 foot cubicle. “As you can see, I have a hot date.”

“You need to stop cracking me up, Lawton,” he says, with the sternest, strictest expression ever. “But your date will have to wait till after breakfast.”

“You say breakfast, but I see none. There’s one person with an overreaching imagination here and surprisingly it isn’t me.”

But Wilcox pays him no heed, instead motions to the two guards flanking him on either side; the fact that he came over to Floyd’s cell with only two guards (who were both armed) but absolutely nothing else immediately lifted him straight out of Floyd’s shit list. “Biggits, Banks,” he motions with his chin for them to stand at attention on either side of the door. “Lawton. I’ve come here as a courtesy with these two family men who have families they want to go back home to at night. I would appreciate it if you showed as much in return and don’t make a problem for all of us.”

Floyd does like him. A lot. He’s already head and shoulders above that git, Griggs in dignity and composure. At over 6 foot tall, he’s literally head and shoulders above Griggs physically as well.

“Well, far be it for me to keep these men from their families,” Floyd says, trying to mask the twinge of his own sadness at his statement with humour. He raises both hands above his head in a show of peace and steps out of the cell. He feels Wilcox’s eyes looking at him up and down and he tries not to flinch at the intensity in the gaze. Surprisingly Wilcox nods towards the two guards behind him and beckons for him to follow with a nudge of his head. No cuffs, no gurney or straps, no wheelchair; just the three guards and Floyd.

Floyd tries not to let his surprise show outright on his face as he walks in step with the big man down the cold and dreary hall.

He really has no clue what’s happening or where they’re going, usually this situation would have invoked some kind of fight or flight instinct in him, but somehow Floyd felt safe enough, trustful enough of this man he didn’t know to follow him towards uncertainty. Somehow he had a feeling that it had something to do with Flag. This man, Commander Jeffries and Flag, they all had the same type of aura about them, something that felt very military. Floyd didn’t know how to explain it. It was like a scent, but not one you smelled, just one that wafted of their person like an invisible sensation. It commanded respect, but not out of fear, just out of reverence. And this man had it in spades. Floyd had a feeling Flag had a hand in this.

It wasn’t just with what happened with Griggs who gave his 7 day notice but then skipped the whole 7 days of work; 90 percent of the personnel and staff at Belle Reve had been different when they returned.

If not Flag, Floyd was certain it had something to do with Waller.

They end up in a part of the wing that Floyd had never been in before. This area actually had white paint on the walls that were still white and unstained, and better yet, still on the wall; not dried, broken chips on the ground. Even the air in the place felt different; cleaner, lighter somehow. It made Floyd feel less down than he had been just a few minutes ago.

They stop suddenly in front of a metal, double flap door. Hell even the door looked slightly less metal and imposing than they looked over in his personal side of hell. There were no large bolts or welding marks or peculiar, humanoid looking scratches in the surface. This door actually looked new. The whole corridor looked new. What the hell was going on?

“What the fuck is going on?”

Wilcox doesn’t answer; he only gives Floyd a lopsided smirk that Floyd really wanted to punch off his person, regardless of whether or not he liked the man.

“After you,” he motions towards the door as he takes a casual step back.

All of a sudden Floyd is nervous again, in a way he hadn’t felt in a long while. What if this was some sort of test, or a trap? Was there a bomb inside that room that was set to go off when he opened the door?

Wilcox was far too relaxed and casual about it, arms crossed over his chest and an easy going look on his face. Even the two guards flanking him were currently engaged in small talk between themselves which was not the casualness Floyd expected to see from guards at Belle Reve. He was used to getting punched and kicked and tased and stabbed even, but getting this kind of nonchalance from people who should be terrified of him, who should hate him, it was thoroughly unnerving.

But he throws open the door regardless—

And gets bowled over by a figure moving too fast to see.

“Dadshot! I missed you so much! How have you been, darlin’? Well? I’ve been well. We’ve all been well, we’ve been better, but being well isn’t exactly a step down.”

“Harley?”

But Harley’s speaking a mile a minute and pays absolutely no attention to the person she’s tossing the grenade of words at.

Floyd manages to push himself into a sitting position with Harley still latching onto him like a baby monkey and looks out at the room he just entered.

It looks suspiciously like a cafeteria, but again, it’s large and clean and new—

And KC is seated at the far end chowing down on what seemed to be remnants of whole roast cow. Not roast beef. Like an actual cow, head, hoofs and all.

Diablo is seated across from him with a posh looking cup of tea that he’s tipping in Floyd’s direction.

On the next table there’s a mountain of fast food paper bags and food wrappers strewn about and the sound of an animal hungrily chomping down on the carcass of prey it just killed. On the side there’s also 2 half empty six-packs of beer that immediately gave the person’s identity away.

“You just gonna lie there all day, Lawton?”

Floyd knows he’s looking a bit like an idiot sitting there with his legs stretched out in front of him on the floor, but his brain feels too incoherent and confused to send the necessary signals to his body in order to make it move up off said floor.

“What the hell is going on?”

“Breakfast, dumb ass. Even criminals know what that means, right? Now get the fuck up and get the fuck over there. I have better things to do than wait around for you sitting there like the blackest beached whale in the entire ocean.”

Floyd feels his body move of its own accord as he gets up into a standing position. Harley finally gets the hint and lets go though she’s still talking shit to him that he has absolutely no clue what about. The moment he’s up and out of the way the doors immediately slam shut and he hears the sound of the locks being bolted from the outside.

“Floydkins? Only two days away from us and you’ve already reverted back to your Neanderthal ways?”

“Shut up, Quinn.”

“Now there’s the grumpy old assassin we all know and love.”

Floyd doesn’t hit girls, but sometimes he wonders if Harley actually qualifies as one, especially after the shit she just spouted.

He’s not that old.

“Floyd,” Diablo greets him cheerily.

Diablo, greets and cheery are not three words Floyd ever thought he’d ever use in a sentence together, but there he was before him, looking like he finally got rid of the burden of the world he was carrying around on his back.

Floyd doesn’t dislike it. It’s just strange.

And KC just swallowed an entire cow hoof. Whole.

“Boom, did you eat yourself to death already?” KC bellows out when Floyd approaches.

Out of the mountain of trash, Floyd hears a mumble and a quake before the vibrations shake all the Happy Jack’s paper wrappers and paper bags onto the floor, leaving a very giddy, very well-fed Australian in its place lying flat on his back on the table.

“Keep eating man, I like my meals well fed,” he adds with a guffaw.

“Piss on ya’, KC. I’m too full to even fucking care right now, mate.”

“Can someone tell me what the fuck is going on?” Floyd says finally. Why the hell do none of these people seem as concerned as he is about this whole bizarre turn of events? Where are they? Why are they there?

“We’ve got good food, amazing coffee and a gorgeous fucking place all to ourselves that doesn’t smell like the inside of Boomerangs’ disgusting coat. Who fucking cares?”

Harley makes a good point, but Floyd isn’t as easily mollified as she is. “I fucking care, that’s who. I did not just spend 3 fucking days locked up by myself with no news of the outside, no news of you guys and now we’re all here in this nice decent cafeteria with actual edible food, it’s like they’re fattening us up before leading us out to slaughter.”

“For the record, man, I have no problem with that as of this moment.”

“Shut up, Boom. No one fucking asked you.”

Frankly, Floyd is fucking pissed at their nonchalance. But he’s abruptly cut off when there’s a clicking sound of a door being unlocked from the opposite end of the room and all of them finally decide to take this fucking seriously.

Floyd follows the slowly opening door with his eyes; fingers subconsciously reaching out for the nearest object he could use for protection. That object happened to be a recently chewed cow thigh bone which was both gross, but currently needed.

The door opens almost comically slow like some kind of horror movie parody, complete with dramatic squeaking as it slows to a halt and a figure suddenly jumps out of the darkness.

“Surprise!”

“Jesus Christ,” Floyd rolls his eyes exasperatedly and immediately relinquishes his grip on the disgustingly greasy and moist piece of bone.

“No guys, it’s me, GQ. It’s only been 2 days; don’t tell me you’ve forgotten me already.”

“You’re about to become a distant memory, GQ. What the fuck were you thinking?”

GQ shrugs his shoulders casually, making it clear that in true GQ fashion, he really wasn’t thinking anything.

Floyd actually really missed the dumbass. He was like the annoying little brother Floyd never had, never needed, never would have wanted but got stuck with anyway. Plus he isn’t the worst company, so there’s that.

“Bet you didn’t see this coming, did ya’?” He says, a little too enthusiastically for Floyd’s ever waning patience, motioning to the room. “We’ve scheduled it so that you guys will get to have breakfast, lunch or dinner here together once a day. Which meal time on which day is completely up to you guys. That’s why none of us were around the last couple of days. It’s been complicated shit, but you know, you’ve got me on the team and handling all this complicated political stuff—”

“So you mean Waller did all this?”

GQ deflates a little. “Well—yeah. Waller gave the okay but Flag was the one hounding her into submission. If you can imagine the word submission and Waller in the same sentence. And you can imagine that Flag’s still not 100 percent and looks only slightly better than someone who’s actually dead, so that was doubly astounding seeing Waller actually cave.”

“How is our favourite Colonel doing?” Diablo asks, beating Floyd to the proverbial punch.

“Oh you know, being very Flag with the doctors and all the medical personnel. And by that I mean pissing the shit out of everyone by acting like the world’s worst, most disgruntled old man. Which by the way, I’m not sure he isn’t at heart.”

“Sounds like Flag,” Diablo lets out a small chuckle. “But seriously, how is he?”

GQ sobers up almost immediately. The grin fades from his face and the difference is almost astounding.

“He isn’t paralysed if that’s what you’re asking, but only because he’s literally the luckiest son of a bitch this side of the solar system. The bullets didn’t hit his heart because of Lawton’s cross and it barely missed his spine, but there is damage to the nerves and the doctors say that he probably won’t be able to do most of the things he used to, or at least, not without difficulty.”

The statement causes the entire room to sober up the same way GQ did not two minutes ago.

“What does that mean for the squad though? If Flag can’t go out on missions anymore?”

GQ looks almost hesitant to answer. This is the serious version of GQ they’ve only seen a handful of times and his appearance here and now is unnerving.

“Just tell it to us straight, GQ. No bullshit,” Floyd knows that whatever GQ has to say will not be what any of them want to hear. But like a band aid, better rip it off quickly and get the pain over with.

“The truth is…uh, I don’t really know the workings of the higher ups and this is just what I’ve heard people saying. There’s talk that the military wants to give Flag an honourable discharge for his services in the military in the past and for his role as leader of this squad. But Waller hasn’t confirmed or denied anything yet so…I don’t know. We’ll just have to see, I guess.”

Silence swallows the room.

Floyd doesn’t really know what to say. Of all the things he expected, that was absolutely the last thing. He knew that if the bosses deemed Flag unfit to lead the squad on ground missions that he wouldn’t be with them, actively, but he’s sure that he’d at least still be there working with the squad from behind the scenes or something.

The military wanting to discharge him, honourably or otherwise wouldn’t mean that he’d have nothing to do with the project or the squad anymore, right?

The squad without Flag, without GQ or Katana or any single one of them—well…it just wasn’t the complete squad then.

The day that ended up being pretty good turned out to be worse than what Floyd had expected.

GQ stayed a couple more hours after that, just talking. But the mood in the whole room was sombre. Even Harley didn’t make any inappropriate jokes or give them any new pastry-related nicknames. In fact, she looked the most sombre of them all.

The next few days pass in a blur. The daily meals with the squad at the cafeteria did wonders for morale.

Wilcox actually turned out to be a pretty swell guy. Somewhere along the way, he even stopped bringing backup when he came to escort Floyd to the cafeteria. The walk usually took about 10 minutes that they actually spent talking. Floyd discovered that Wilcox (though he declined to provide a first name. “Think of me like Drake,” he said) is married with two kids. Floyd actually talks to him about Zoe and Wilcox to his credit actually seems genuinely sympathetic by his situation. Floyd guesses that it’s just a universal thing that fathers would understand.

The first week rolls around in the blink of an eye. Katana stopped by a few days after GQ came. She didn’t say anything. She just sat morosely in the corner sharpening her sword but her mere presence provided a familiar sense of comfort. At one point Diablo actually walked over with two plates of food, one for him and one for her and silently took seat on the empty spot beside her. Neither of them said anything or even made eye contact, but that was the most relaxed Floyd had ever seen either of them.

June stopped by the following week and for some reason after being acquainted with them for just those couple of days in the hospital—excluding the time they as a collective team banished the evil ancient spirit that was embodying her soul—somehow she’d decided to take up the mantle of Squad Mom. Asking everyone if they’d eaten, making sure KC got an extra serving of cake and everything else. Brewing both Harley and Diablo coffee, which they later declared to be the best cup of coffee they’d ever had. June made the coffee the old fashioned way, not with one of those fancy espresso machines Harley had.

Floyd wasn’t sure whether Boomerang liked her, or liked her liked her, but since she was officially Flag’s old lady, Floyd knew even Boomerang was aware that meant that she was irrevocably off limits. Floyd wasn’t sure whether Harley liked her, or liked her liked her, either. But that was an entirely different ballgame, one he absolutely did not want to get involved with. He loved Flag like a brother and he’d die for the guy, but he would not get between that for any amount of money or familial bond.

June tells her about Zoe which simultaneously cheers him up and weighs him down. How well she’s doing in school and ‘no, she doesn’t have a boyfriend’ and that she stays over at June’s at least a few times a week. Whenever Darnell or her mom are away for extended periods of time, June will come and stay over or Zoe will come and stay over at June’s, since June hadn’t officially moved back into Flag’s apartment yet since he wasn’t there.

Flag was out of the ICU and had been moved into a regular room. He still needed a few days of rest before the doctor would consider himself fit to start physical therapy; a fact that according to June really brought him down and Floyd was sympathetic. He knew how tough Flag was; they’d all seen proof of that with their own two eyes, and to end up in this vulnerable position with still such a long road ahead after all the fighting he’d been doing, it must be devastating. Floyd knows the kind of person Flag is, how going out into a raging battlefield with bullets whizzing past his ear and the heat of bombs going off in his face must seem like a cake walk compared to having to deal with stupid things such as emotions and feelings.

Floyd was the same way. Not to the crazy jarhead extent of Flag, but he understood enough.

At the very least though, he was glad that June, Zoe, GQ and Katana were all there for him. Hell, even Waller, cause if there was anyone knew how to kick an ass into gear, it was Amanda Waller.

It wasn’t until the third week of what they’d describe as a much appreciated relaxation yet repetitive amount of complacency that Floyd feels like things were truly starting to change. He’d even go as far as to describe where he was at this point in his life as contented, maybe even happy.

Wilcox calls for him early after lunch that day. Usually they have a couple of hours for lunch and by 4.30 P.M. they’d be called by the head guards of their respective sections to escort them back to their cells. Harley actually has a female guard in charge of her wing of Belle Reve this time and someone she never fails to make suggestive remarks towards and flirts incessantly with as they leave.

Floyd always thought he knew Harley, or at least knew enough of her, but at one point during the last couple of weeks he realized that he didn’t really know her at all.

It’s only 3 P.M. and Wilcox is already hollering at him from the door and Floyd controls the urge to use a small carton of uneaten yoghurt as a projectile aimed straight at the man’s fat black head.

“Let’s go, Lawton. We got a hot date for you today.”

“I knew you were lonely without me, Wilcox, you could have just told me outright instead of planning this extravagant proposal,” he says with an eye roll as he irritably gets to his feet.

“Tone down the egotism, Lawton. Even in a room with former Latino gangbangers, basket cases, humanoid reptiles and Australians, you’re absolutely the last person I’d pick for my dodgeball team in a zombie apocalypse.”

Everyone seemed way too amused by Wilcox’s words than Floyd really thought was necessary, they were after all supposed to be his squad.

“See you guys tomorrow,” he says, but no one bids him goodbye. They were all still too busy laughing and truth be told, Floyd felt a little betrayed by their reaction.

“You poisoned them, didn’t you? To get them on your side.” He confronts Wilcox as they’re walking down the now familiar path, the sound of their footsteps echoing against the corridor walls.

“Just with my charm and wit.”

Floyd takes back what he said in the past. He hates this fucking guy and his stupid smug smirk.

They take a different bend than the one that leads back to Floyd’s cell today.

“You taking me out back to kill me, man? Now that you’ve won over the loyalty of my squad.”

Wilcox actually seems genuinely amused by the whole exchange. The asshole. “I wasn’t. But that’s actually not a bad plan. One less asshole I need to deal with on a day to day basis. It isn’t enough that I have this annoying as shit whack job former billionaire on the upper level crying about Batman every night, I’ve got to get down in this hell hole and deal with you too.”

Floyd is curious about this whack job former billionaire with a Batman-phobia, but not enough to actually inquire.

“My heart weeps for you, man.”

Wilcox responds to Floyd’s last quip with a slight upturn of the lips before he motions for Floyd to stop.

This is it, Floyd think. He’s about to get murdered in cold blood and his squad probably wouldn’t even notice. They already got their replacement black guy to fill the minority quota and he’s just as witty as Floyd and a big enough asshole but obviously nowhere near as good looking. He and Flag would probably get along great, if they don’t already.

“Why’re you looking like someone’s about to murder your three legged puppy, Lawton?”

That shakes Floyd immediately out of his reverie. “What monster would try and kill an innocent three legged puppy?” he responds disgustedly and slightly taken aback.

“It’s a figure of speech, man,” Wilcox says, looking at Floyd like he was talking to a petulant two-year old. “Now if you’re done doing an impeccable impersonation of an angst ridden teen, I have placed to be and people to see. It does not say ‘professional babysitter’ on my job description.”

Wilcox just punched a code into the keypad beside the large imposing door in front of Floyd and both of them step back and watch silently as the metal door slides to an open.

They seem to be in the more high tech section of Belle Reve, a place Floyd didn’t even know existed. Hell, he didn’t even know they had a cafeteria, much less one that actually looks like a cafeteria where people actually eat in and not an underground butcher shop in some uncivilized third world country. Although on KC’s section of the room, people might actually make that assumption.

They’ve spent meals together there every day for the past three weeks, and while they spend most of it just chilling, sometimes without even having to say a word to each other. Once in a while Harley or Boom starts telling one absurd story or another, sometimes to them, most of the time at them. Diablo has unsurprisingly the lowest word count of the squad if they don’t count in Katana. But then again, Floyd’s pretty sure the amount of times they’ve heard Katana speak since the day they met her he’d be able to count on the fingers on one hand. KC seems to be taking advantage of being able to order any kind of food he wants, and by any kind Floyd means absolutely every kind. He’s pretty sure he heard someone actually say ‘alligator nuggets’ which is some messed up boondocks, furthest most backwards shithole of the Louisiana bayou he’s ever heard of. But doubly creepy considering KC might be eating a distant cousin or a long lost niece or something.

“I’m a fucking crocodile, asshole. It even fucking says so in the title sequence,” KC says when Floyd for some reason brings it up.

But during those three weeks, they’ve all sort of gravitated towards their own section of the cafeteria. KC’s original spot ended up being KC’s permanent spot since it already smelled of roasted animal carcass and no one even put up a fight for it even thought it was closest to the doors that lead to the kitchens, or whatever room was there that the food came out from.

Diablo took the section closest to the entrance door, for reasons Floyd’s confident he can guess.

Harley has her coffeemaker, a giant mirror and a couple of makeup shit she somehow conned one of the guards into getting her all arranged nicely on the table pushed up against the door. No one says anything during the times she chooses to do some suggestive yoga poses in her section after eating. Harley’s an attractive lady but Floyd can’t even think to look at her in that way or in that direction whenever that happens. It felt too much like a father walking in on his daughter doing something no father should ever walk in on their daughter doing, like making out with a poster…or a boy, but preferably a poster of a boy, or a girl. Floyd doesn’t really care. In fact, he’d prefer a girl since guys should never be trusted.

Boomerang with his ratty coat drinking beer like it was oxygen but never actually getting drunk would always be Boomerang. He has his pink unicorn plushie by his side and a poster of some jacked up mutated kangaroo on his wall.

“After you, Lawton,” Wilcox says, motioning to the open door.

Floyd is by no means afraid. He really isn’t. He has no reason to be considering all he knows about Wilcox. But vigilance is something that’s been ingrained in him; it has to be given his occupation. This line of work affords him many enemies, most of them crazy, all of them dangerous. He can’t afford to let his guard down ever, especially since he has his beloved daughter to think about. He admits he’s grown a bit lax in his own caution since becoming a member the squad. They were called the Suicide Squad for a reason, and Floyd hates to admit it but he’s grown used to having other people there to watch his six. Between Flag and Diablo and KC punching through the enemies front line like the soggiest paper bag in existence, Harley and Boomerang’s comforting brand of crazy and knowing that GQ and Katana are around picking off the stragglers like pathetic flightless birds, Floyd admits that he doesn’t look over his shoulder as much as he did or as much as he still should.

“I’m not trying to kill you, Lawton, Jesus H. Christ and Mary, so would you please stop sulking. I don’t have all day to wait for you to put on your big boy panties.”

Floyd is offended by that comment but tries not to show it.

He squares his shoulder, readjusts his adult size male pants, large enough to hold his giant cojones and steps into the room with one last glare at Wilcox and is met by…

…nothing.

The stupid room is fucking empty except for a couple of rows of chairs by the wall and the large wooden table at the far end.

Floyd is pissed. And kind of relieved, but mostly pissed.

He squares his shoulders, pulls up steel plated man pants and marches across the room; hearing only the sound of his own footsteps reverberating against the wall. Only when he comes with a few meters of the wooden desk does he notice the white, old school turn dial phone sitting innocuously in the middle of it.

Floyd has not fucking clue what’s going on and it only does piss him off.

He doesn’t even get to dwell on his annoyance or his anger because all of a sudden the phone starts ringing; one of those shrill tones from a mobster movie set in the 40’s.

He approaches the table and the phone tentatively and with one last look behind him at the now closed door, deep down waiting for someone (like GQ) to leap out of the woodwork and tell him that he’s on Candid Camera.

No one shows up.

Floyd squares his shoulders and answers.

The word that flows through and the voice that reaches his ear feel like a burning stab right through the gut.

‘Daddy?’

Floyd cries.

Floyd Lawton was a killer. He’s still a killer. He kills people for a living if not for the reason to continue to stay alive. He stays alive for Zoe, his baby, his daughter, his life and his whole universe. He stays alive because he’s the only person Zoe has. Sure there’s her mom and the non-entity that is Darnell, but he’s the only person he trusts to protect Zoe and to care for her and to always put her needs first.

He realizes now that he hadn’t been putting her first, if he had he would have stopped killing a long time ago. The blame for his current predicament falls solely on his shoulders.

They talk and talk and talk and talk, for an hour, for hours. Floyd just listens to Zoe talk about everything, about June and Flag, about her mom, even about Darnell and it doesn’t even evoke a murderous feeling deep inside his soul. Zoe tells him about school and her teachers and how good she’s gotten in math even though her teacher would still prefer if she stopped using bullet trajectory and assassination blue prints as an example. Zoe tells him about a boy in her class that she has a crush on, and even that doesn’t incite Floyd to go on a killing spree, he’s just so happy and so glad to be able to hear her voice. Everything else is just appetizer.

He’s happy to hear Zoe talk about June; it’s evident how much Zoe likes her. Flag still hasn’t been discharged from the hospital despite his vehement argument about how he doesn’t need to be there any longer. June takes Zoe to see him a few times a week and she says he’s doing much better, he’s still having problems because of the nerve damage in his back but Flag being Flag thinks he can work his way through this problem the way he doesn’t everything else, by grunting through it and refusing to accept anything less as an outcome. Floyd can only laugh at that. His laughing makes Zoe laugh and Floyd doesn’t think he’s ever heard a sweeter sound.

He’s sitting there listening to Zoe talk, looking around at the empty room and he can only ask whatever higher being’s out there if this is actually real. It doesn’t feel it. But like with the cafeteria and the change in personnel that actually treat them all like human beings, Floyd feels like he has fallen into that crevice of complacency and he’s pretty fucking happy to stay there. He knows, like a feeling deep inside his gut that Flag definitely has something to do with everything. Like he was some sort of Jarhead Secret Santa for Floyd and the squad, except that he isn’t expecting a present in return. But Floyd supposes that the knowledge that they all had his back in return, that they proved it on more than one occasion over the course of the last couple of month was gift enough for Flag.

He’s grateful.

If someone had said to him, or KC and Diablo and Harley and Boom, so many months ago that there would come a day where they’d find themselves in a squad with four other criminals, a couple do-gooder military types and some freaky Japanese lady—well, that person would probably have woken up dead. If that same person would have said that they’d end up in that situation with this unlikely group of people and actually like it? That person would definitely have woken up dead. If that same dumbass person would have said that there would come a point where Floyd or KC or Diablo or Harley and maybe Boom if he were in generous mood, would willingly die for each and every one of these people? Then that person would have wished they were dead.

“Lawton?”

It’s Wilcox.

Floyd knew that this wasn’t going to last forever, but still the end came far too soon.

“I have to go, baby,” he says reluctantly into the receiver, feeling his own heart shatter with those five simple words.

“Oh, okay, daddy,” Zoe sounds disappointed but not as disappointed as Floyd expected her to be. Maybe Wilcox got to her too the same way he got to the squad.

“I miss you, Zo-bear and I love you. I want you to always remember that okay?”

“I love you too, daddy and—ooh, June’s here. We’re going to see Uncle Rick again today.”

“Say hi to him for me,” Floyd says, feeling a pang of sadness hit him right in the chest. Flag and June are both out there, free and able to see Zoe any time they want, while he’s stuck there caged like an animal and probably will never get to see her when he wants to again. He feels both sad and jealous and angry; angry at himself for every choice he ever made, everything he’s ever done that landed him in that position. But also feels grateful for Flag and June being there for Zoe when he couldn’t.

“Okay, daddy. Take care okay, and I’ll talk to you in a few days. Love you!” and with that Zoe hangs up, before Floyd’s mind could even really register the second part of the sentence. The dial tone and lingering silence from the other end of the line only leaves him perplexed.

“Lawton. Making enemies with innocent phone receivers now are we? Maybe you do need a hobby.”

The entire walk back to the cell block is in silence after that phone call, but especially after that last comment. Floyd can feel Wilcox’s questioning eyes on him on more than one occasion but he doesn’t feel in the mood to entertain him with an explanation. He’s desperately missing his baby who seemed far too eager to hang up the phone, not to mention the thing she said about talking to him in a few days. Was that just a figure of speech? He’s pretty sure the phone call would be a one-time thing to give him closure of some sort. He’s resigned himself to that fact. Maybe he’d be able to go see Zoe after they’re out on a mission or something. Or maybe he’ll get to talk to her again if Flag ever stopped by.

If he’s even able to anyway.

Floyd remembers how grave his injuries were and the tough times in the hospital not knowing if he was even going to make it through the night. They thought he was at least out of the woods by the time they left for Belle Reve, but from what Zoe and GQ said it seemed like Flag was dealing with a more permanent bunch of problems because of the shooting.

“Hey, you still with me, Lawton?”

The nudge on his shoulder indicates that that may not have been the first time Wilcox’s asked that question within the last 5 minutes or so as they come to a stop in front of his cell.

Floyd likes the man, he really does. He’d even go as far as to say that he respects him, and that’s much bigger a deal. The amount of people he’s genuinely respected in his life he could count on the fingers of one hand. But now because of Wilcox, hell even because of Banks and Briggs, he might even have to start utilizing his second hand to count.

“Yeah. Just missed my baby something terrible,” Floyd says. This time without a witty comeback or even a hint of irony in his voice and he appreciates Wilcox’s just accepting it without comment.

He unlocks the large metal door without word and when Floyd steps into his familiar 10 by 10 cubicle of desolation and despair, Wilcox surprises him by stepping in after him; grabbing a couple of cardboard boxes he hadn’t noticed sitting beside the door and shoving them into Floyd’s arms.

“You have 15 minutes to get your shit packed. I’d say use it wisely and keep the daydreaming to a bare minimum this time if you could. I’m not your personal chauffeur to keep dragging your ass back down to earth and across the compound.”

“What?” For the umpteenth time that day, Floyd is left completely flabbergasted.

“Your shit—” he makes circular motions towards Floyd’s scarce personal belongings scattered around room—“In box.” He points towards the box in Floyd’s arms like he was talking to the world’s dumbest 48 year old toddler.

For the second time in approximately 15 minutes, Floyd feels like the world’s dumbest 48 year old toddler.

“You need me to draw you a diagram?”

“Fuck you, Wilcox.”

“That’s the spirit,” Wilcox says a little too enthusiastically. “Fifteen minutes,” he repeats, this time while making a sign for one and five with his fingers.

Floyd takes back what he said about respecting the man. The ass hole was insufferable but he cleans out his stuff nonetheless. There’s not much they could do to him that hasn’t been done to him in that place already. He knows when a beating’s coming and he’s already mentally and physically prepared for it when it does. But all these uncertainties and the shiftiness of Wilcox and the guys there, all these strange orders and comments that just don’t add up. That Floyd can’t deal with. He can deal with shooting a target he can’t directly see, but it’s much harder shooting a target when you don’t even fucking know which one is the real target. Right here at this moment though, Floyd kind of feels like he’s actually the target.

It isn’t a good feeling. All of a sudden he feels kind of sorry for the people he’s killed though the years.

Except—nope, he’s not really. They were all scumbags who deserved whatever they got.

Moment of repentance over and done with, now back to the present.

“Are we there yet?” Floyd asks for the third time, two minutes into the walk from his jail cell. His previous jail cell now he supposes.

“I consider myself a man of many positive attributes, patience being one of them, and you’re testing nearly all of them Lawton, so if you would kindly shut the hell up.”

Floyd reluctantly lapses into silence, allowing the click-clacking sounds of their footsteps to resound against the wall.

Another day another new corridor explored, another new wing uncovered. If Floyd had been gathering information for a layout blueprint of a place for his escape, they were making it far too easy.

Walking past rows and rows of heavy bolted cell doors only adds to Floyd’s confusion and feeling of not knowing what the hell was going on. The screaming emanating from inside the cells and the pounding noise does nothing to help it either. He kind of misses the guys at this moment. Hell even fucking GQ. He would actually pay money to have Katana there to back him up just in case his probably unfounded worry turns out to not be unfounded. If the last couple of weeks have taught Floyd anything, it’s to expect the unexpected.

He and the squad haven’t seen Flag at all during that time. The only thing they know about what’s going on with him is from whatever second-hand news they get from whoever’s visiting. Though just the fact that they actually get people visiting is a luxury none of them ever expected. Becoming this close to each other, to a point where they would perhaps even without hesitance refer to each other as friends, maybe even family, was an unexpected turn of events. Not to mention the fact that they actually have people on the outside not only with clearance to come and go from Belle Reve almost as much as they please, who also take advantage of that ability to actually come and see them, hang out with them, bring them actual things from the outside and generally seem actually pleased to be in their presence. In GQ’s case, it seems like often times he’s almost more reluctant to leave. Floyd has no doubt that given the choice GQ might even decide to move into one of the cells. It doesn’t seem to be a decision out of character for GQ.

June on the other hand is one character that Floyd just can’t get a grasp on. She seems nice enough most of the time and to the naked eye it would seem like she’s truly nothing more than your run-of-the-mill, dewy eyed archaeologist.

A terrible archaeologist, if Floyd has to be honest, considering her abysmal track record, what with releasing some evil ancient being and getting possessed and everything. But Floyd and the rest of the squad (except maybe Boomerang) have noticed on more than one occasion that there’s so much more to her than meets the eye. It’s nothing outright obvious, he doesn’t think anyone else would really notice, just more of a feeling. Not a dangerous feeling, not like the Enchantress, more like remnants of power that keeps of wafting off her unintentionally. Mostly it feels benign if not outright friendly. But then again it’s pretty hard to be intimidated by a person no matter how powerful they might be when they’re talking so excitedly about the discovery of a 3000 year old golden bong while trying to force feed you chicken broth. Floyd’s pretty sure that actually happened even though he seems to be the only one who remembers.

If June did indeed have powers as Floyd suspects, he thinks that she either doesn’t even realize when she’s using those powers or she’s aware and gotten really, really good at pretending otherwise. Knowing how well June knows Waller, Floyd suspects the latter. He wonders what Wallers makes of the situation, since he’s 100 percent sure that Waller knows about June. Waller knows everything.

It’s only then that Floyd realizes that they actually went up a level without him noticing. It feels weird being in an area of Belle Reve that seemed like it housed actual people. Even the air in the place felt different, less stagnant and stale somehow, if that even made sense.

“You may unclench your sphincter now, Lawton. We’re here.”

Floyd and Wilcox come to a stop in front of, surprise, surprise, another heavily bolted metal door. The people who designed Belle Reve really needed to think outside the box once in a while.

He sees a smattering of guards lined up sparingly along the corridor, but other than that he guesses that they’re in a less secure part of Belle Reve than he was previously. At this point he’s almost completely sure that between his recuperation and organizing all this, that’s what Flag is busy doing behind the scenes that’s preventing him from coming to visit. He’d never admit to feeling hurt about it, though he’s slightly less hesitant to admit that he kind of misses the asshole. He’s glad Flag is doing better though and he thinks Zoe mentioned that Flag was getting discharged from the hospital tomorrow. Thoughts of Zoe manage to drag Floyd back down to the pits of despair so he stops.

Wilcox is eyeing him strangely when he looks at the man.

“What?”

The look gives way to a small smirk but the man says nothing.

Floyd really, really doesn’t like him. It’s confirmed.

“Welcome to your new home,” Wilcox says and pushes open the door like the host of some stupid game show unveiling the stupid prize behind door number one.

The prize it turned out, to not be a jail cell but something more of a mass hall. It wasn’t especially large, but huge compared to his 10 by 10 cell, with stairs leading into an upper level and he sees a few cell bar door lining the side.

“Dadshot!”

It’s like a painful déjà vu when he feels a figure slamming into him from the side sending him sprawling to the floor on his stomach. He skids about a foot before squeaking to a stop, the figure like a heavy lump sitting way too comfortably on his back.

“A handshake next time, Harley,” he says exasperatedly. “A handshake would be enough.”

“But that’s no fun. I missed you, grandpa.”

Once again Floyd resists the urge to let punches fly. He’s only in his forties for fucks sake.

“We were only together like 2 hours ago, woman.”

“Feels like ages.”

“Hey, Lawton, you two need some privacy, esse?”

It’s much less politically incorrect to punch Diablo than Harley, since they’re both men and they’re both the obligatory minorities. But Floyd keeps his fists to himself and pushes himself back up into a standing position; something much easier in theory if Harley wasn’t currently latched onto his back like the world’s most annoying gangly koala.

“What the hell is going on?” he asks when he finally grunts to his feet.

“I thought you were gonna tell us. We’ve been waiting here for about an hour. No one’s telling us anything.”

Floyd looks past Diablo to KC sitting at the edge of the one of tables in the middle of the hall like some underworld boss waiting for his lackey.

He waves happily when he notices Floyd looking at him.

“Considering his flair for the dramatics, I guess we should just wait for GQ to make some hammy entrance to explain this shit to us.”

Both of them lapse into silence, as if preparing themselves for GQ to leap out of the woodwork the way he’d done during the cafeteria thing.

Alas no GQ.

“Well, this has been fun,” Wilcox says after an awkward silence. “But I’m sure someone will be along shortly to entertain you, since last I checked, that still isn’t my job.”

Floyd and Diablo don’t really notice when Wilcox leaves, the door slamming shut behind him and leaving them all to their confused devices.

“Is it time you stopped hanging off my back, Harley?”

“Why?” she whinges. “You’re warm and squishy and comfy. Have you put on weight, Floyd?”

Floyd can only splutter. He most definitely has not put on weight. He does a thousand sit-ups and a thousand push ups a day without fail and he’s about to point out the beat up old punching bag he just hauled across two-thirds of Belle Reve when a sudden sound of metal slamming into metal interrupts them out of the blue.

KC and Boomerang both leap to their feet. Harley is off his back and in a defensive position before Floyd can even blink and Diablo’s got his heckles up like a startled cat. Everyone is primed and ready to meet (and defeat) whatever surprise the higher ups of Belle Reve have decided to toss in their direction. The sound is coming from one of the cells on the upper level; the cell bars thrown open callously and out from the shadows of the unlit cell comes—

“Fucking hell, GQ,” Boomerang curses, verbalising the general thoughts of everyone in the room as they all continue watching the most unlikely of members of their rag tag bunch; yawning and arms stretched out wide like he’d just taken the deepest sleep of the century.

“Oh hay, guys,” GQ says nonchalantly, rubbing the sleep from his eyes with the back of his hand, as if his presence there and the entire situation was nothing out of the ordinary. “Surprise, wheee…” he says with about 2 percent enthusiasm as the world’s saddest exclamation of joy trails off into another loud yawn.

“What the fuck is going on GQ? More importantly have—have you been there the entire time? We’ve been sitting here for more than an hour and no one’s come or gone besides us.”

GQ stops in his tracks as he slowly makes his way towards the stairwell leading to the ground floor. “Fuck, I must have fallen asleep. Well—oops.”

Floyd’s not sure whether that’s supposed to be some sort of apology in GQ speak, but regardless, it was a piss poor one. “Cut the crap and the GQ-ness and just explain what the fuck is going on this time.”

To GQ’s credit he actually cuts the chit chat and gets to the point almost immediately. “I thought that part might be obvious. Don’t make me utilize my collection of Homer Simpson quotes on you. You’ve been moved to new quarters. One that’s much better at quote unquote, maintaining squad morale, or some sort of shit like that. That was the line Flag sold to Waller anyway and I don’t know if the Missus is getting all naïve in her advancing age but for some reason she bought it without too much resistance. She probably just wanted Flag to stop talking at her with those sad puppy dog eyes. I think Flag’s getting real good at this manipulation game…unless that’s Waller’s plan all along; manipulating Flag into manipulating her when she’s the mastermind controlling the whole manipula—”

“GQ shut up.”

“Roger that,” he says, almost as is he himself realized that he was rambling incoherently.

“Fucking Flag,” Floyd says but it isn’t in a malicious way and he can’t stop the stupid grin from peeking out at the thought of their fearless leader who was still having their backs from behind the scenes. All of a sudden Floyd’s imagining the squad without Flag there to lead them and it’s a terrible prospect to even consider. But if the military was going to discharge him than that’s what it spelled for their squad, unless Waller could pull a string or two and somehow keep him on, but would she even do that?

Floyd thinks he should give himself a proverbial pat on the back for managing to make himself feel all depressed again when the already topsy turvy day was actually turning out quite positive. That’s why he never dwelled too much on stupid things like emotions and getting attached, eventually everyone leaves.

“You guys should come and check out your new digs,” GQ says when the silence starts weighing everyone down, almost like the whole squad was having the same disconcerting thoughts about their favourite half-Viking colonel.

Almost reluctantly all of them make their way up the stairs towards the upper level. The stairs is in the middle of the room leading up towards the far end wall of the cell block hall where it diverges into two opposite L shaped corridors lined with 3 cells on each side. GQ is waiting for them at the top of the stairs as they make their way up one by one; Harley skips up the steps with spryness that Floyd can only dream of. Floyd comes up behind her and his knees seem to creak and pop just to spite him. Diablo and Boomerang comes up behind him and KC brings up the rear, shaking and rattling the steps under his giant reptilian feet.

“Welcome, friends,” GQ greets dramatically when they all reach the top step. “Mr. Lawton, Ms. Quinn, if you would head in this direction,” he motions to his right, towards the three cells along the right side of where they were standing. “And the three of you of one name notoriety—”

“I don’t know if they taught math at that white trash school you went to, GQ, but Killer Crocodile is two words.”

“But it might as well just be one word. Isn’t crocodile a killer by definition? Isn’t that like oxymoron or something?”

“The only moron in question here is you,” Harley interrupts suddenly, turning around quickly from where she was about to go skipping off towards her cell. “I think the term you’re looking for is tautology. It means the use of redundant words, not unlike everything you say ever.” And like that Harley drops the mic. Floyd doesn’t know whether to be impressed or to hand GQ some ice for that devastating burn.

“Damn, man,” Diablo says amusedly.

“Geez, Harley. We’re all on the same team here,” GQ says, but he doesn’t look especially hurt or offended by her words.

Harley blows him a kiss from half across the walkway.

“Well, better just get to it. Don’t want to say anything redundant or anything,” GQ says almost dolefully. KC just guffaws and reaches over to ruffle his hair fondly. Diablo also has a look of fondness on his face as he reaches over to circle him arm around GQ’s shoulders and drags him off towards the left side cell block.

Floyd reaches his cell first since it’s the very first one in the line. He’s not sure whether to be grateful or offended. Harley’s in next to his and the one at the farthest end is left uninhabited. At first glance it seems like a regular prison cell, single bed with a standard issue crisp mattress. There’s no toilet seat in the middle of the room though which is always a plus, but begs the question how and where? Or did they expect them to hold it in till someone decides they’re in desperate enough need to use the joint bathroom downstairs and lets them out?

There’s a nice wooden book shelf on one side of the bed and a small table with a picture frame on the other. A writing desk sits innocently enough against the wall opposite the bed and on closer inspection there’s a book sitting in the middle as if waiting for him. On even closer inspection Floyd sees that the cover is an illustration of a sad bunny and the title is ‘The Night Dad Went to Jail’.

Floyd’s 200 percent confident that particular gift is courtesy of Rick Flag. He tries not to let how pleased he feels on the inside show outright on his face. He doesn’t think he succeeds. Instead he tears his gaze away from the sight before him and goes over to Harley’s cell. The first sight he sees is her doing a split while hanging upside down on the stripper pole that’s been mounted right in the middle of her fucking room. Floyd could not look away quicker had it been a sight of naked Boomerang doing a split instead. It just wasn’t right.

Instead he goes to check on the other guys; Boomerang’s cell is the first one immediately opposite his own and much like his cell, it seemed like a regular cell with a bed and a desk (rather redundant addition if he had to be honest) only instead of a bookshelf, Boom’s held a fridge instead. Surprise, surprise. The Australian inside was sprawled out on the bed, equally unsurprisingly asleep.

Next to his is KC who has a large screen TV mounted to the wall and a surround sound system and a shelf full off terrible comedies, most of them starring Adam Sandler. Floyd was internally grateful to not be sleeping next to that mess.

“How you like your new place, KC?” he asks KC’s back from where he’s currently admiring his new DVD collection.

“Finally feeling appreciated man. Not gonna lie ‘bout that.”

“Yeah, I get what you mean,” Floyd answers, seeing for the first time ever KC showing his sombre side.

“You should check what Diablo’s got in his cell tho. Flag really pulled out the stops looks like.”

That rouses Floyd’s curiosity as he makes his way to the cell at the farthest end, opposite the empty cell on his side. Immediate first sight he sees is GQ lounging way to casually on Diablo’s bed. Like his own cell, Diablo has a shelf full of books with undoubtedly a much finer choice of reading material. Flag was always biased like that. Diablo is sitting cross-legged on the floor in the corner among what seems to be a bunch of soft toys, a few bowls and what seems to be a grey, fuzzy ball of fur purring comfortably on his lap.

“Diablo gets a cat? Really? Biased much?” Floyd says when he enters.

Diablo is actually smiling and it’s an unnerving sight to behold. Floyd doesn’t dislike it; it just looks so out of place on Mr. Sombre himself. What’s next? Katana smiling? That would just be too bizarre a sight to imagine.

“Don’t be jealous, amigo,” Diablo says way too gleefully. “We always knew who was Flag’s favourite. This is just proof I guess.”

“I think I miss the old gloomy Diablo more, can he come back instead.”

Diablo laughs and Floyd feels happy despite his forced annoyance.

“This is pretty awesome thought right, guys?”

“I have to reluctantly agree with you, GQ,” Diablo says. “So, you moving into the empty cell there or what?” he adds, motioning towards the vacant cell across from his.

“Unfortunately not,” and GQ looks genuinely upset by that. As if it were such a disappointing thing that he wasn’t moving into a jail cell in the most tightly guarded prison in America with them. GQ must live a much emptier life than Floyd could even imagine. He kind of feels bad for the kid. “I heard that someone might be moving in there, but that information is way above my paygrade.”

As much as that new information tickles Floyd’s curiosity, it’s too low on his priority list to focus on at the moment.

“Oh, by the way, the ceremony for Colonel Flag’s discharge is in a couple of days.”

The statement brings another bout of heavy silence to the room. Floyd doesn’t know how to process that information. Frankly, he’s a little hurt that Flag didn’t at least come to tell them himself, but the rational side of him reasons that Flag might have been too busy between physical therapy and going through with the whole ceremony. He’s confident that Flag would have absolutely been there to tell him if he could. He has faith in that and if being in the squad has done nothing for him, it’s given him back his faith in other people. Flag especially because he’s proven time and time again that he’s always had Floyd and the squad’s back and they’ve all proved that they have his back in return.

“Oh,” is the only thing Diablo can say and Floyd seconds that sentiment.

“The colonel says to apologize for not coming by to visit you guys. He’s been having a tough time with PT and this whole thing with the ceremony. He’d totally be here if he could though. Just wanted you guys to know that.”

“What’s going to happen with the squad? Who’s going to be in charge?” it seems like Diablo spontaneously turned into the voice of reason in the squad and at this point Floyd can only be grateful for that.

“I don’t know. They haven’t exactly filled me in on the finer detail of the plan. They might bring in some super cool, big shot military guy to lead the squad on the ground. But I have no idea who that’s going to be either.”

“What about Flag? What’s he going to do after all this? I don’t exactly see him and June retiring to the Poconos.” At least Floyd certainly hopes not, unless they take Zoe with them. But Floyd is confident that even if Flag wasn’t involved with squad business anymore, he would still continue looking after Zoe. He’s confident that both Flag and June care about Zoe as much as he does.

Eventually Floyd and Diablo feel like they’ve had time to process the information enough and call the rest of the squad back down to the seating hall downstairs. The silence that falls once they finish filling the rest of the team in is familiar. KC and Boomerang are both uncharacteristically silent and Harley looks genuinely upset. She doesn’t say anything in return and after a few introspective moments to herself, she walks back up the stairs, closing the door behind her as she disappears into her cell.

Everyone watches her leave without word. Honestly, no one knows what to say to comfort her anyway.

“In a couple of days you said?” Diablo asks, if only to break the awkward silence.

“Yeah,” GQ replies equally sombrely.

Floyd tries to search his face for any sign that any of this is some sort of stupid joke, but his face his hard and grave. GQ couldn’t be that good a pretender if he tried.

“That sucks,” KC says and the general consensus is agreement.

The next couple of days pass by in an almost repetitive, monotone routine: get up in the morning, walk out the unlocked door of their cell (a fact that surprised Floyd even though he was still in faux-mourning), eat breakfast and get some rec time. Wilcox comes by with a couple of guards to escort them to and from the field. Wilcox is still an asshole, but Floyd is thankful for that. It takes his mind off everything that’s happening, or rather everything that isn’t happening and the date that’s rapidly approaching.

The day of Flag’s retirement from the military and the squad.

He feels he has the right to be as disgruntled as Wilcox says he is.

He wakes up one morning and all of sudden it’s the day of Flag’s discharge ceremony and the day could not start any crappier.  

“Rise and shine, squad.”

Floyd stands corrected.

“Isn’t it a little early for you to start your shift guarding the bridge, Wilcox,” Floyd says from over a spoonful of scrambled eggs.

“Oh come on, Lawton. You gonna make me say that line?”

“What’s happening?” Diablo asks as he takes a seat across from Floyd at the table.

Wilcox just smirks and steps aside. About half a dozen military men come clattering in, taking up position at the ready along the wall beside the door.

Floyd senses his aura before he even steps through the front door. It smells like rule-abiding, sphincter clenching responsibility.

“Commander Jörmungandr!” Floyd states happily when the stern faced man walks through the door.

“It’s Commander Jeffries, pee-on.”

By this time the commotion down in the mess hall has attracted the rest of the squad, who are watching the entire scene unfold from above the second floor rail.

“You guys have 5 minutes to get your gear and get ready.”

“What’s going on?” Floyd stupidly asks.

“4 minutes and 55 seconds, people. Don’t make me repeat myself.”

Floyd and the rest wisely keep their questions and comments to themselves. There’s time for all that after. Floyd feels at home once he slips into his red suit and he’s sure everyone feels the same. It’s been too long since they’ve put on anything other than the terrible orange prison jumpsuit. In the four minutes or so they took to get ready—in Boom, Diablo and KC’s case though the only thing they had to do was change trousers and put on a jacket, since Diablo was always wearing that same fucking white wife beater even in prison. Boomerang brings out his trusty yet ratty coat from where he undoubtedly kept it fermented under a dirty mattress because Floyd can smell him coming before he even walks out of his cell. Harley on the other hand managed to change outfits, do her hair in two neat pigtail braids cascading down the front of her chest, a checked red and black pair of leather pants with a matching top that showed off her midriff. In those four or so minutes she’d even managed to do her make up which Floyd found absolutely mind blowing. Talk about multi-tasking.

“You look nice, Harley,” Diablo says.

Harley beams at the compliment. “Thank you, miguelito.”

Diablo laughs at that. “Miguelito, really?”

“You know, crispy and toasty on the outside, soft on the inside.”

“I guess I can live with that.”

They follow Commander Jeffries and his factory-setting team of uptight G.I. Joes out the cell block and down the all too familiar corridor of Belle Reve; four of the military guys on either side of them or two flanking them from behind. Wilcox and his team bringing up the rear.

They leave Wilcox and the Belle Reve guards behind. Floyd keeps his eyes on the man as the armed vehicle they get into pull out of the compound and into the deserted road headed away from the prison. The ride out is in silence; no one asks the questions they have in their heads. Commander Jeffries sitting across from Floyd doesn’t make eye contact through the whole ride.

Floyd doesn’t really know what’s about to happen. Were they actually invited to Flag’s retirement ceremony? If they were was it out of courtesy or just to rub the shit in deeper. It wouldn’t bode well for the squad regardless.

Floyd has a terrible sense of déjà vu all of a sudden of an almost similar car ride taken barely even a month ago; Flag and GQ nowhere to be seen and this stoic new, unfamiliar commander in their place.

“Just answer me this, Commander; Flag didn’t get shot again did he?”

Commander Jeffries levels him with a stern look, but he answers with a simple ‘no’ which at least eliminates that particular worry from Floyds mind.

They pull into the familiar parking compound and the squad files out of the vehicle into the warmth of the outdoor sunlight. Floyd never thought he’d miss being outside this much.

Katana meets them the moment they step into the building and silently accompanies them the whole way up to the tenth floor where Waller’s office and the command center are situated. The same place they go for mission briefings and all that political shit; the same place they first received news of Flag’s attack in what seemed to be ages ago.

The whole squad is uncharacteristically silent.

If Floyd had to be honest, if they were indeed holding the retirement ceremony there they could have at least chipped in for some balloons or a few streamers or something. This was drab even by military standard.

“Do you know what’s going on?” Floyd tries his luck asking Katana, but the stoic lady just shrugs her shoulder in negative. “Don’t know why I expected any different,” Floyd whispers under his breath to himself. GQ’s still nowhere in sight and at this point Floyd’s constantly preparing himself for the man to suddenly jump out from behind a closed door unannounced.

GQ is actually inside the commander center when they enter; standing stoically in the middle of the aisle and looking so uncharacteristically un-GQ like that Floyd is taken aback for a solid second.

“I hate to repeat myself so often but what in the blue hell is going on, GQ?”

GQ clears his throat; an unnerving and uncharacteristic frown on his face and his arms clasped firmly behind his back. Floyd has never seen GQ look so stern and professional in his life and he misses the chatty, fallen puppy-dog eyed GQ they’d all come to know and love.

“That’s Captain GQ Edwards to you, soldier,” he says, dropping his voice an octave but not dropping the façade whatsoever; “Commanding officer of the New Suicide Squad. These hands raised you from perdition and it can throw you back in. So y’all better start showing me some damn respect.”

Floyd doesn’t know how to react, but KC lets out an amused snort from beside him and bursts into laughter. Floyd glances over at GQ just in time to see bits of the stoic façade get chipped away little by little until the regular Cheshire cat grin of GQ’s makes its triumphant comeback.

“Man, Floyd!” he says between bouts of laughter, “You should have seen your face. I think you may have crapped your pants a little.”

“You son-of-a-bi—” but Floyd doesn’t finish that statement cause he lets out the breath he’d been subconsciously holding and allows the relieved smile to curl at his lips.

“Captain GQ?” Diablo repeats as he sidles up to GQ who has dropped every last bit of the put on professionalism and stoicism and reverted back to his devil-may-care attitude and stance.

“Yeah, man. Got a nice ring to it don’t you think?”

“Are you gonna elaborate more on that tho, mate? Cause I still don’t know head nor tails of what the fuck is going on here.”

“To be fair, Boom, you don’t know what the fuck is going on at any given time, but I’m going to explain it anyway cause I’m nice like that,” GQ says, stepping over to one of the electronic counters on the side and perching on the edge. It seemed like the command center had a day off cause besides them there was no one else actually around. “Here’s the explanation, so y’all better listen closely,” he draws out the pause for drama and seriously testing Floyd’s very slim patience level. “I got promoted.”

The confused silence in the room is palpable as Floyd looks at Diablo who looks at Floyd and KC looks at Harley who’s looking at GQ and Boomerang’s looking for something deep inside his ratty pocket, seemingly not paying any attention to the conversation whatsoever.

“And? We were listening,” Floyd says.

“I got promoted. That’s it. Not everything has to be some big dramatic moment, you know, this isn’t some B-rate superhero movie.”

“And what the hell did you mean Commander of the New Suicide Squad?”

“Umm, I didn’t know you guys were this slow. And you thought I was the dumb one. Exactly what it said on the box. Captain GQ Edwards, commanding officer of the squad from today on.”

“And when the hell did that happen?”

“Umm, it’s been in the works for a couple weeks. Didn’t I tell you guys that.”

“No you did not think to include that bit of information, you asshole.” Floyd is happy by the news contrary to his reaction. It just took him by surprise and he hates fucking surprises.

“Well, whoops,” GQ shrugs, but there’s a glint in his eye that makes it obvious to Floyd and everyone in the room that it was no mistake whatsoever.

“What are you scheming, GQ?”

“What—lil’ ol’ me?”

“Yes you, no one in this room trusts you a damn bit starting from this moment. Our trust-o-meter has officially been reset.”

“But, guys!” he whines and to his credit he looks genuinely distraught at the prospect of losing the fragile trust they’ve built.

Floyd takes pity on the guy. “Fine, GQ. But you’re threading on thin ice at this point. We hate fucking surprises and let me reminds you that all of us here used to kill people for lesser offences.”

“Your concerns and warnings are duly noted,” he says with a salute. “But—uhh, can we maybe pinky promise on at that the end of the day? Cause, uh…”

“What is it now? And where the fuck is Waller? And Flag for that matter. We’re here for his ceremony at least, right? Don’t tell us you lied about that one too.”

“Well in my defence, I did not actually tell any lies. I only told selected truths, which is not the same as lying.”

“GQ!”

“Okay, okay—geez, guys. Chill. I didn’t lie about Flag getting discharged from the military though,” GQ says and at this point Floyd doesn’t know if he can truly trust the guy anymore. He feels a little bit betrayed to be honest.

“What about Waller?”

“Hmmm, Waller huh. Good question.” He makes a point to look confusedly around the room until KC makes a point to look like he’s about to rush him and beat him to a mushy GQ shaped pulp. “Fine, guys seriously. You’re no fun. Waller got promoted. After the whole Agent Gumby thing and stopping what the higher ups deemed ‘domestic terrorism against members of our military’ quote unquote,” he does the last bit in some overly exaggerated deep monotone voice.

Floyd reaches up to massage the bridge of his nose. “And you were planning on telling us all this…when?”

“I’m telling you guys now,” even the perpetually unruffled GQ seemed slightly annoyed at this point. “It’s a surprise, guys.”

“When did we ever give you the impression that any of us in any way liked surprises, GQ?”

“Oh,” GQ says, looking like the thought genuinely had never occurred to him before.

“Speak for yourself, Floyd. I love surprises,” Harley says, interjecting into the conversation and sidling up seductively beside GQ. “Also I take back what I said. You’re weaselling your way out of redundancy one little white lie at a time, GQ. I approve,” she adds, reaching over to run her fingers through his hair playfully.

“Thanks, Harley,” GQ replies, looking more than a little pleased at the odd compliment. But this was Harley, so it wasn’t really anything out of the ordinary.”

Floyd can just exhale exasperatedly. KC and Boomerang have taken seat in a few of the empty chairs on the side and Diablo is perched at the edge of the table in a mirror position of GQ’s pose. It’s eerily similar to the situation they were in the last time they were in that room, missing only Waller herself.

“Anything else we might need to know? Any more surprises?”

GQ makes a face indicating that there indeed was more surprises instore.

“This was all Waller’s plan, since she’s been promoted; you’re also getting a new handler. Obviously your new squad leader is yours truly.”

Floyd’s not sure whether he likes where this seemed to be going. Considering GQ’s recently discovered aversion to telling the whole truth, he’s not sure what to really expect at this point.

“Not sure if I like the sound of this, mate,” Boomerang says and Floyd is inclined to agree.

“Need I remind you that you’re playing with fire right now, GQ, and I don’t mean Diablo. Cut the crap and these little half-truths cause I’m about one surprise away from stomping over there and whooping your sad little white boy ass.”

It shows really just how complacent they’ve become that for the second time in the span of a couple of months, a person managed to waltz all the way into the room and all the way up to them before they even realize there was someone standing right there.

“You’re talking a lot of crap for such an old man, Floyd.”

And it’s that voice. For a second Floyd doesn’t know if he’s imagining it or if he was actually hearing wrong or projecting his deepest desires into reality where everyone can see and mock him for it. It feels like he hasn’t heard that voice in fucking ages, and he didn’t even notice the existence of that ache in his chest until that very moment, hearing that painfully familiar voice making a painfully familiar jab and all of a sudden the memories of the last couple of months come rushing back to him like a speeding train.

The reaction is immediate even though everything is playing out like a bad slow motion black and white movie in Floyd’s point of view.

Harley leaps off the table she was perched precariously on and rushes forwards with a cry of ‘Colonel Cupcake’ that is one third excitement, one third happiness and one third relief.

Diablo, KC and Boomerangs almost in-sync cry of ‘Flag’ resounding in his ear like it was part of his own heartbeat.

Floyd still hasn’t turned around to look; he’s almost too scared to. A fear that’s mostly ridiculous and probably unfounded but turning around and looking at Flag and seeing him there in person in front of his eyes, that would ground everything in reality and Floyd’s not sure if he wants to let that happen yet.

One by one Diablo, KC and Boomerang push past him to get to where Flag is probably standing, undoubtedly with that stupid white boy smirk plastered on his stupid white boy face with that stupid white boy crew cut on his stupid white boy head. Speaking of stupid white boys, GQ is still grinning something awful right in his line of sight.

Pleasantries are exchanged. Laughter rings out. Even fucking Boomerang sounds like he started tearing up at some point and still Floyd has yet to turn around. Like a petulant child being asked to do something he doesn’t want to, Floyd’s inclined to whine out, “But I don’t wanna,” at the first person to ask him to. But no one does, at least until he feels the warm breaths of someone who seems to have walked up and is standing right behind him. He’s about to mutter out something about personal space when the voice speaks again.

“Did you age so much in the meantime that it’s already starting to affect your hearing?”

Fucking Flag.

Floyd doesn’t know whether to turn around and punch him in his dumb face or turn around and hug the asshole for making it seem like he abandoned them.

His brain decides on the former but his heart seems to have developed a mind of its own because the moment Floyd turns around and his eyes fall on Flag, actually living breathing Flag, upright and not dressed in a crisp white hospital gown being surrounded by too many tubes and wires to count; at that moment, Floyd loses all impulse control and rational thought. He reaches out, grabs Flag sternly by the shoulder and pulls him into a hug usually only reserved for Zoe and a bolster pillow absolutely no one knows he sleeps with. He doesn’t know how long he latches on. He feels Flag’s own arms circle him around the chest and returns the hug with equal amount of comfort.

For like the first time since the shooting, Floyd feels like he can finally truly breathe and if he holds on to Flag for a few seconds longer than is absolutely necessary, no one says anything.

At this point Floyd knows that Flag is holding on mostly for his benefit so eventually he manages to gets his emotions in check and peels out of the embrace almost hesitantly. The immediate first thing he does is punch Flag unceremoniously in the arm.

“That’s for leaving us in the dark the whole time, asshole.”

“Wait a minute,” Boomerang says suddenly. “Does this mean that you’re our new handler, mate?”

Flag looks confused for a hot minute as he regards Boomerang and turns back to Floyd. “You didn’t know? I sent GQ to the prison to let you guys in on what was happening and why I wasn’t able to come visit.”

All eyes snap immediately in GQ’s direction. GQ to his credit looks absolutely unapologetic, if anything, just mildly annoyed.

“It was a fucking surprise!”

Flag all of a sudden looks like he just aged about 2 years in the span of 2 seconds.

Floyd takes in his appearance for a moment, between feeling half annoyed at GQ (cause no one can be a hundred percent annoyed at GQ ever, the guy just had that quality about him that was just incorrigible but in an endearing way) and feeling like he finally had a partner that related to his perpetual exasperation, it felt like Floyd finally had a moment to process everything.

Flag still looks like Flag; strangely Nordic looking, whiter than a baby seal. Hair still closely cropped but obviously growing out. He’s actually wearing a suit and a decent one at that, which was an unnerving sight on its own. It had a tie and a fucking pocket square and everything and also a silver tipped black cane that Floyd was positive held at least 2 concealed knives. He would have been sorely disappointed if it didn’t.

“You’re looking very suave, Colonel,” Diablo says, saving Floyd from actually having to pay Flag that compliment.

Flag rolls his eyes and groans disgustedly. Now there’s the Flag Floyd knew and loved. “It’s not my choice and you better take a fucking picture to commemorate cause this is the first and last time this will happen. It feels like stupid ass tie has a mind of its own and is trying to off me for good this time,” he says, tugging at the material around his neck with two fingers. “Waller insisted on it and god knows that woman knows how to get her way.”

“But seriously, how you doing, Flag?” KC asks.

Flag exhales loudly, the cane thumping on the ground in an almost comforting rhythm as he walks over to a seat GQ just pulled out for him. Floyd notices the way his face contorted slightly when he went to sit down and he’s sure the whole squad noticed the same thing.

“I’ve been better,” Flag answers, “and I’ve been worse. So I guess I really shouldn’t complain.”

“How’s uh—you back? We heard some…less than encouraging things.”

“Yeah,” he answers, leaning back in the seat and allowing the cane to rest against the chair by his knee, “bullets are fucking nasty sons of bitches. It fucks up a lot of shit before it even gets to the actual damage. Us humans create some really nasty shit. But I guess I can still walk, so it isn’t the worst outcome. It sucks that I can’t go out in the field anymore. It’ll be pretty hard trying to run around dodging bad guys when you can barely walk a straight meter without feeling like it’s actually 3 miles of hot coal,” He trails off to a pause. “But enough of this depressing shit. I’m alive at least and I guess that’s pretty good. Also—uh,” It’s a little unnerving to see Flag look so nervous and at a loss of word, but that’s exactly what seems to be taking place. “I never really got to thank you guys for—uh, what you did back there. At the hospital and taking down the guys who shot me and bringing the double agent to justice. I don’t think I can ever tell you how much I appreciate everything you guys did and staying at the hospital. I—I guess—what I’m trying to say is uh—Thank you.”

The whole squad looks like a fine mix of sheepish pride and joy, except Harley who is outright beaming. “Our pleasure, Cupcake. You know we’re always game for a little murder, and it’s a bonus if they actually deserve it,” Harley says and Floyd thinks that they’ve unlocked a new level in their friendship that he finds that statement genuinely touching.

“You’re welcome, Flag,” KC says in a much saner show of appreciation.

“You know, we’d do it all again, cause we know you’d do it for us,” Diablo says. “Todo para la familia,” he adds, shooting a small grin in Floyd’s direction after he said that, “It means ‘everything for the family’.”

“Isn’t that the Nickelodeon show?” GQ says, more of an observation than an actual question.

“Cause you’re our family,” Floyd says, feeling like the sappiest motherfucker in all the land immediately after those words left his mouth. He tries the word on for size, feeling it roll unfamiliarly off his tongue before he comes out of his mouth; “Rick.”

Rick Flag actually smiles one of the few genuine smiles anyone has ever seen on his face that wasn’t a grimace, a half grin at someone’s expense or an outright smirk. It relieves a majority of the tense feeling still lingering between them in the room.

“Christ when did you assholes get so sappy?” he asks, but more of as a deflection than anything else.

“We’re only representing the people in charge of us, esse.”

Without missing a beat, Flag looks disapprovingly over at GQ. “Well then GQ should have set a better example.”

“Me? I have literally been team leader for thirteen whole minutes.”

“Well, first rule of leading the team, Captain Edwards, is that the leader is always responsible for the actions of his squad, no matter how long they’ve been under his command.”

Flag has a smug look on his face that’s far too self-indulgent than is truly necessary. He reminds Floyd of Waller so much in this moment which begs the still unanswered question.

“Speaking of command tho, where is Waller exactly? And does this mean that you’ll still be in charge of the squad? Cause I don’t know if my vote would count at this point but I’m totally down for that.”

“I’m about to tell you. Yes and thank you, I appreciate the vote of support,” Flag answers immediately. “Firstly, yes, I’ll be taking over Waller’s position at command center, since I can’t be down in the field anymore and Waller insisted that if I left her alone in charge of this, and I quote, ‘group of uncouth assholes with absolutely no respect for their superior officer’, then she was going to, and I quote, ‘hunt me down to the nethermost region of the earths asshole and kill me’.”

“Colonel Flag’s going to be the Zordon to our Power Rangers,” GQ elaborates further.

“I thought they gave you early retirement from the military, or was that another of GQ’s little white boy lies?” KC asks and Floyd seconds the question.

“That is true, but it was just a formality. Waller insisted on it because she wanted me loyal only to her command, not something I’m really keen on but only cause it keeps me on the squad in some extent. I wouldn’t just abandon you guys without making sure you’re taken care of. I owe you guys more than that,” he thinks hard on the subject before he adds. “There wasn’t a ceremony or anything extravagant like that if you’re wondering. I guess it just would be complete without my whole squad there.”

In that moment Floyd knows that Flag isn’t just taking about the squad before him, but also the squad of good men that didn’t make it to this point. It grounds everything in a much sombre reality for a minute. The first day he met those men out on the airstrip just hours after the creation of the squad, he could never have imagined a future where there would be a point he’d genuinely mourn for their loss. He never had a chance to become acquainted with them the way he had with Flag, GQ and Katana, but just the fact that these were people Flag and GQ still spoke of with reverence and fondness made Floyd believe that he too would have shared that sentiment.

“And Waller?”

That question gives Flag pause and he reaches over to whisper something to GQ, sending the younger man reaching over to fiddle with something on the computer keyboard at his side.

“I think I should let her answer that question herself,” he says, turning the seat slightly to the side and motioning with one outstretched arm to the large monitor at the end of the room. “Behold, the face of god.”

It’s reminiscent of that moment on that airfield when they first learned about the squad and about their mission and the fact that not all of them were going to make it out of that mission alive.

And on the humongous monitor mounted on the wall at the far end of the room, taking up the entire span of the wall, came up the single most terrifying sight any one of them has ever witnessed.

Amanda Waller in a blood red pantsuit, mimicking the bloodthirsty colour of her very soul, addressing them from a far too familiar podium, flanked by two flags of the United States and the emblem of the White House mounted on the wall in the background.

Holy fuck.

That was the general consensus of everyone in the room, Flag included.

‘Squad,’ she says, her voice booming out the surround sound speakers and drowning all other noises in the room.

Floyd didn’t know whether to laugh or feel absolutely terrified at the sight and the idea that this terrifying woman was now in the single most important house in the entire U.S of A, if not the world, no doubt calling the shots in the background of the entire government. But at that moment, looking at the all too familiar face looking down at them and glancing over at Flag looking at Waller on the screen with barely concealed fondness and awe, Floyd can’t help but think that these two people who have done so much for them are exactly where they both deserve to be.

‘I will forgo the pleasantries, squad and just get right down to the point. Everything has changed, but nothing has changed. The management may have changed hands, but function of the squad has not. You all are still tasked with eliminating threats to the government and to the safety and livelihood of our citizens. You are the sword that defends us from the enemies that ordinary forces cannot stop and if required, you will give your life to fulfil that duty. That’s the reason you’re here, that’s the reason you’ve been chosen.’

“In the meantime though,” Flag interjects quickly, showing more balls in that one moment than the entire time Floyd’s seen him in actual missions, “We will do our best to treat you like human beings and make sure that you are compensated in full for your contribution to the safety of our nation.” Flag finishes his statement and glances over at Waller, having an entire private conversation with that look alone giving Floyd the impression that this is a topic they’re argued intensely over in the past.

Waller eventually relents with a pointed glare at Flag that Floyd interpreted as fifty percent annoyance and fifty percent actual respect.

‘Well, I suppose all that is up to your now, Colonel. Or should I call you Zordon.’

The unexpectedness of that statement takes everyone by complete surprise so none of them could stop the snort of laughter before it slipped out into the open.

‘Well then people, I have our entire fair nation depending on me to protect them from the forces of evil, so I will leave the mission briefing in Colonel Flag’s more than capable hands,’ before the camera flickers out, Waller has just enough time to spare a look at Flag and a couple of words of warning; ‘Don’t disappoint me.’

“No, ma’am,” Flag answers to the static noise of the cut out screen.

“So we’re actually going on a mission today, boss?” asks Diablo, always the most level headed one in the group. Floyd thinks that it really should be his job since he is the faux-leader of the squad on an average day.

“In a way,” Flag answers cryptically, making it clear that he inherited more than Waller’s job, also her penchant for answering questions with non-answers. “You’re not just here to listen to GQ talk crap or see me in this monkey suit, there’s actually someone else you’re here to meet; a new member of the squad.”

A tense silence falls over the group. Floyd shares a look with Diablo and the meaning that passes between them is that this will either turn out really good, or catastrophically terrible. Both of them are leaning towards the latter.

The door in the background behind GQ suddenly opens and all of them notice movement in the dark as GQ walks over to greet this new arrival.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” Flag starts before his eyes fall on KC and he adds almost automatically, “And gentlecrocodiles.”

“Damn right I’m gentle.”

They see the outline of GQ walking towards their direction and into the light, one arm reaching to the newcomer. Floyd can’t see who or what it is, only the outline of a petite, lithe figure.

“May I introduce you to the new member of your team,” Flag announces as the figure steps gracefully into the light and into their line of sight. Floyd’s immediate first response is: flaming red hair—a bit too much hair than is truly necessary on a human being, he thinks. The woman, as they just discovered, sidles up behind Flag with an almost seductive kind of sashay, her fingers creeping across his chest like a vine as she embraces him affectionately from behind. Flag looks too unruffled by the act for it to be an unexpected occurrence. “Pamela Isley,” he says as he grabs one of the hands that’s getting a bit too intimate with his chest area and guides the person forward, “Also known as, Poison Ivy.”

The lady folds herself into a rather exaggerated bow, one leg crossed behind the other and both arms, including the hand still held by Flag, spread out at her side. “Pleased to make your acquaintance, boys,” she says; her voice coming out almost a purr.

Besides Floyd, Harley is bristling. After all, no one cuddles members of the squad except her.

Floyd doesn’t know whether it’s the murderous aura currently rolling off Harley in waves or the heated glare she she’s shooting like laser beams that attracts the newcomers eyes to Harley, but they fall on her almost immediately with an astonished ‘oh.’

“Boys and ladies,” Pamela corrects, her eyes never straying from Harley; in fact studying her up and down with a hawk like gaze. She’s staring a bit too intently in Floyd’s opinion, it almost feels like he’s infringing on what should be an intimate moment. “I do like what I see,” she says and for the first time ever, Floyd sees Harley completely at a loss for words.

The rest of the squad on the other hand obviously approve, if the appreciative glint they all had in their eye was anything to go by.

“So, Isley,” Diablo starts, once again taking over as team leader from Floyd who just needed more time process this shit. “What do you do? Or rather what can you do?”

“Well, ma Cherie—”

Besides Floyd, Harley is almost shaking with rage at this point. After all no one gives members of her squad nicknames besides her.

“—Let’s just say that I have an affinity for flora.”

Floyd doesn’t know what exactly that’s supposed to mean, until Pamela raises her hand, palm up, in front of Diablo and a small rose bud rises up out of the very skin of her hand and blossoms into a gorgeous purple rose.

“Holy shit!” KC nearly jumps out of his scales at the sight.

“Fuck, mate. That’s the coolest shit I’ve ever seen!”

Even Katana’s eyes widened from behind the mask and Floyd hears GQ letting out a whistle from somewhere in the background.

Diablo looks more than a little impressed by what he saw.

“What about you, papi?”

Diablo smirks, and raises his hand, palm up, in front of Pamela and a spark of flame ignites right in the middle of his hand; burning red embers of flame taking shape of a fiery orange rose.

Floyd looks at Flag looking at the scene in front of him and the asshole looks far too smug by the exchange happening in front of him.

“Nice,” Pamela says equally as impressed. “I do think we’ll all get along just fine.” She tears her eyes away from Diablo suddenly, taking a couple of steps further into the middle of the assembled group and stops right in front of the still bristling Harley.

Harley opens her mouth to say something when Pamela raises the hand that’s holding the flower and offers it to Harley.

“A beautiful flower for a beautiful lady,” she says and Harley’s mouth snaps shut as she looked confusedly between Pamela and the rose being offered to her.

It’s Katana who nudges her gently with her shoulder, snapping her out of her befuddled thoughts and brings her back down to reality. Harley hesitantly reaches up to take the offered flower from Pamela’s hand with a muttered, ‘thanks’ as all the indignation and rage that was seeping off her being immediately drains away. Pamela moves quickly just as Harley’s just about to the rose out of her offering grasp, grabbing the outstretched hand gently and planting a soft kiss on the back of it, visibly startling the still befuddled Harley.

“A single purple rose means love at first sight,” Pamela adds and for the first time ever, Harley is both blushing and at a complete loss of words.

Floyd thinks that they actually seem to be off to a good start; Harley no longer looks like she wants to kill the new girl on sight. The new girl looks like she has other plans for Harley, if the seductive gaze she keeps shooting at her is any indication. The only downside if the fact that Floyd only just remembered that he’s in the cell right next to Harleys and the one he assumes now belongs to Pamela.

Maybe there’s still time to ask for his old cell back.

He shares a look with Flag sitting directly in front of him as the rest of the squad converge on the new member, throwing around questions and a couple of inappropriate comments. Floyd hears a desperate choking sound that sounds suspiciously like Boomerang and he doesn’t even have to turn around to know that the new girl is more than capable of protecting herself from Boom’s crude advances. He walks over to where Flag is still sitting on the office seat in the middle of the command center aisle.

“So…”

“So,” Flag mimics his statement as he turns around to perch on the closest table beside Flag, watching the scene unfolding before them with an amused eye. “What do you think of the new girl?”

“Seems like another scary ass woman who can more than kick out asses, figuratively and literally.” Flag chuckles and Floyd doesn’t know how much he’s missed hearing that sound. “Better question is what does the new girl think of Harley? Cause I can tell you the answer, it’s nothing appropriate.”

“Yeah, she’s a piece of work, but so is Harley. And they’re both smart, consenting adults. Also the alternative…”

Flag trails off but Floyd completely understands the unsaid comment. He’s sure they’re both thinking of Harley’s less than proper and very unhealthy ex. Instead both of them look over to where Pamela is still openly staring at Harley and Harley in return actually looks shy at the attention, but doesn’t look like she’s about to stab the other woman in the eye with the rose stem. Instead she’s holding onto the rose like it’s the most precious thing in the world.

“June’s spending the day with Zoe, by the way. I tried bringing her here but, with the new member and Waller and everything, I think it’s better for when things aren’t so frantic. Pamela’s still in the testing process. I mean, we’ve been looking at candidates for months and we still have to get to know her on the field and how she’s handle it. She’s more than capable to neutralize threats on her own, but like with you guys the first time. Being in a squad is something she’s going to have to get used to.”

Floyd tries not to let his disappointment show at the mention of Zoe. But he remembers the phone call and decides to ask Flag about it. “So, Zoe called me the other day,” Flag looks like he knows exactly what Floyd is talking about, “and she said something strange, that she’ll talk to me again another time?”

“Yeah,” Flag answers, looking up to meet Floyd eyes. “I got her a cell phone that makes calls only to me, June and GQ, and also to the phone in Belle Reve. But it’s just for a set time once every few days, since it’s still a prison with rules. But I am working on getting a phone for you that can just make calls to Zoe and me. That one’s proving to be a bit of a challenge. Waller’s grown immune to my charms in the last couple of weeks.”

Floyd is touched, and he doesn’t even attempt to speak when Flag finishes because he knows the only sounds he’ll be able to make are gurgled sobbing sounds. He knew that Flag was still working to set things up for them behind the scenes, as demonstrated by the cafeteria and their new digs, but he didn’t know it extended this far. It’s more than material things Flag is handling for them from the outside; it’s also the emotional aspects and taking care of everything near and dear to them. He’s sure that the choice of adding Pamela’s particularly to the squad wasn’t something accidental.

Flag, June, GQ and Katana, all of them are the family none of them ever really had; even more than that. It’s a relationship built and forged in fire and something that can never be truly severed. They see in Floyd and Harley and KC and Diablo and Boomerang what everyone else in the world has given up trying to look for; humanity, importance and love; three things that Floyd never saw of himself until this very moment. Looking out to the squad laughing; GQ and Boomerang are outright ogling Pamela who just made vines creep up her arms and spout out little white buds. KC who is guffawing loudly seemingly at something Katana had said and the usually stoic Katana is actually smiling.

And Harley who’s looking at the scene taking place in front of her and at the woman who can’t seem to tear her eyes away from her; eyes that shine with awe and the unfamiliar glint of admiration. Harley’s used to looking at others with that gaze, but has never had that look or those emotions being directed at her.

Its mind blowing, she thinks.

“You’re breath-taking,” Pamela says to her.

And in background Flag and Floyd both look on, grinning like the proudest and dorkiest parents in all the land.

 tbc.

This chapter is 17390 words long like daaaamn. So hopefully it makes up for the super long wait. Also everything I write will have a happy ending, the happiest ending if I have anything to say about it and I hope it lived to up everyone’s expectations. For the record, I knew I wanted to end the story by adding Poison Ivy, so finally getting to write that scene makes me very happy and very pleased.

Wilcox, Biggits and Banks are actual Belle Reve Penitentiary guards in the Young Justice series.

Also I said that this was going to be the last chapter, and for all intents and purposes, it is. But then I realized that how can I finish this story without bring it full circle and end it with everyone’s favourite disgruntled colonel. And so, we will have one last short epilogue to end things and tie off the few lose ends I have hanging.