#and evacuate if your local authorities says so

[tuberosumtater]

It's Raining Heavily Outside~

[softspeirs]

Reprieve (BoB/MoTA x OC)

Summary: What if Bucky and Buck managed to escape the forced march that night in Germany? What if in a really roundabout way, they got some help from some locals and found their way to the 101st? What if! Loosely follows the events of this AU. Author's Note: No romantic pairings (a bit of Speirs/OC mentioned). Features my BoB OC, Kat Gray. This is very much a "magic of fanfiction" story - doesn't fit with canon and certainly would not have happened in real life. It's fine - we're all insane here anyway. Enjoy! Warnings: mentions of PTSD, and descriptions of war-related injuries. Words: 8k+ (I am so sorry)

“Welcome back to the land of the living Major. You look like you’ve seen better days.” The woman’s American accented-voice is clear as a bell and yet Bucky still thinks he’s hallucinating. “Can you open your eyes for me?”

Bucky tries to sit up.

"Not so fast," she says, leaning over him so he can see her.

“Where am I?” He croaks.

"You’re in an aid station with the Airborne. You've been out for two days. Take it easy." She sounds familiar.

"Have we met?” he asks, ignoring her request to sit still. His ribs ache, and his throat feels so dry he feels like he’s swallowed sand.

"Once upon a pub in England, Major Egan." The woman busies herself around him, gathering bandages and other supplies, and when he can finally force his eyes to focus his gaze, he sees her, and he can't help but let out a breathy, disbelieving chuckle as he recognizes her.

"Of all the gin joints..."

She turns around and grins. "Something like that." She holds out her hand. "Corporal Kat Gray, sir. It's good to see you."

He takes her hand gratefully, squeezing. "I'd say the same, but--" he winces as he reaches up to touch his eye. He can't see out of his left eye at all. It's eerily similar to how he arrived at Stalag Luft III, and he wants to vomit at the thought. "How--"

"You and Major Cleven have had a rough few days." She says, her tone taking on a more somber tone. "He's just fine." She adds, reading the panic on his face. "He’s being debriefed by our CO.” She leans in. “I’m going to try to clean this a bit better,” she says gently. “I’m going to adjust you for a minute, but if you can look up for me, I won’t need to touch you much.”

He feels a strange mix of shame and relief at the way she’s talking to him - telling him what she’s going to do and giving him the power to say yes or no… it’s certainly an adjustment compared to what some visits to the infirmary in Germany were like.

He looks up at her, and she nods reassuringly, reaching to adjust him so she can see him better in the dim light. “How on Earth did you end up here?”

The last few days all feel like a blur, and Bucky bites back the rising panic at the thought of what his and Buck’s escape might mean for their friends. “Buck and I have been in a POW camp since ‘43.”

Kat is quiet, meeting his gaze with large, dark eyes. “I’m very sorry to hear that. Obviously you escaped. Nearly ran right into our outpost.”

He sighs, scratches at his jaw. "They evacuated the camp. We’d been having conversations with our guys for a week or so when we knew the Germans were going to march us. We agreed that a few of us should try to get back. I remember finally finding a window to make a run for it, and--" he stops as he flashes back to a dark night, moments of complete panic, and finally, watching Buck escape over that wall. "-- got the butt of a rifle for my troubles."

"That explains the bruising." She leans in, her fingers cool against his fevered forehead. "Did you have a previous injury here?" Her gaze is narrowed in on a spot somewhere near his cheekbone.

He really doesn't want to talk about it. It was hard enough trying to tell his guys what happened to him, and he's just not sure he has the words to try to describe it to someone else. He'll have to eventually. If they ever make it back... but that's about the only time he thinks he can manage to get the words out. "Yes." He says finally. "When I went down…. They walked us through a city that had been recently bombed, and between the civilians and the guards..." He trails off, jaw tight.

Her eyes are understanding. She doesn't press him, and he's grateful. Instead, she leans back against the wall at her back, folding her arms across her chest. "So I've got good news and bad news. The good news is I don’t think you’ll have any lasting damage, even in that eye. I don't think your orbital bone is broken, but you'll be sore for a while. The bad news is that you need to speak with our S-2, on account of how you might be a spy and everything."

Bucky blinks at her.

Kat smiles. "It’s just a joke. But… procedure. You know it goes. Technically I probably shouldn’t have asked you anything about how you got here.” She shrugs, waves a hand dismissively. She stands up straight, takes a few steps back from him. "Think you can walk?"

“Would it matter if I can’t?” He grumbles, pushing himself into a sitting position.

“Of course,” she frowns. He has to remind himself where he is and who he’s with. He’s gotten so used to hiding any major or minor injury, any sign of illness, and being forced to stay on his feet for what felt like hours on end, sometimes in the middle of the night.

Kat continues, “Though, sir, if you were to… as a Major, of course… give me permission to order Captain Nixon to come to you instead, I would really really enjoy that.”

.

Outside, he shields his eyes from the bright light with his right hand. His head throbs, but he keeps walking. He glances down at the woman beside him.

Helmet in her hand, he gets a better look at her now that they're not in a room lit with barely a single bulb.

"Where are we?" Bucky asks, voice low.

"Somewhere between Belgium and Bavaria." She says. "We’ve been here for a week, pulled off the line not too long ago.”

Her voice is scratchy, whether from overuse or from illness, he can't tell. She has a fading bruise on her left cheek, a mirror of the one on his face. She looks older than the last time he saw her.

He remembers her, fresh-faced and in a clean uniform on a pub night where he and Buck and Benny were all together and intact. Not a scratch on them or dust on their uniforms. He remembers her easy smile and the way her men closed ranks around her at the first sign of his flirting.

They walk a few more feet to a requisitioned building that's practically falling apart. It's warm though, and that's really all he cares about. That, and seeing for himself that Buck is here and alive.

He hears his low voice before he sees him. Buck is standing bent over a table covered in maps. Across from him are two captains - one he vaguely remembers and one he hasn't met yet. All three straighten at his approach.

"Major Egan, this is Captain Winters and Captain Nixon."

After two hasty salutes that Bucky feels uncomfortable receiving, Nixon's hand is the first outstretched for a shake. "Egan. Good to see you on your feet."

"Thanks." He replies distractedly as he looks at his friend. "Buck? Entertaining guests already?" He asks, gesturing at the room they're in - it clearly used to be a kitchen.

Buck smirks. "Should have remembered to get down the good silverware."

"What, uh…" He wants to ask what happened after the woods, after-- he remembers finding Buck in the woods, hands trembling and alone. He had waited for him, said he knew he'd catch up eventually, and said George was gone.

They walked the entire night and next day, sticking to the woods as much as possible until they got close enough to the front to hear American voices. It's a bit hazy after that. Between the certain head trauma and the exhaustion, he doesn't remember much.

Buck shakes his head, almost imperceptible if Bucky hadn’t been searching his expression. Later, it seems to say.

Nixon gets Bucky’s attention by clearing his throat. “If you can come with me for a minute, Major.” he says, gesturing to another room off to one side.

“Nix, I really don’t think–” Kat tries to interject.

“Kat, we can’t make exceptions.” Nixon says warningly, though his tone is nowhere near harsh. He turns back to Bucky. “Look, Major, I remember you, and I know you’ve already been through this with your far less kind hosts, but I’ve got to ask you a few questions before we do anything else.”

With a look at Buck, who nods reassuringly, Bucky goes.

They go through the whole thing - name, rank, serial number, what’s the national anthem, who is the President and when was he elected… the whole thing. All things considered, Bucky actually thinks Captain Nixon goes pretty easy on him.

They join the others after a few more minutes, Bucky absently rubbing his temples which are already starting to ache.

The taller man -- Winters -- seems to want to get down to business. He turns to Kat. "Corporal Gray. Hang around for a minute?"

"Yes sir." She says, finding a place to perch on a counter behind Buck. As she hoists herself up, Bucky catches the glimpse of a dirtied bandage that takes up nearly her entire arm as her sleeve rides up.

Trying to focus on the task at hand, he and Buck go over every second of their escape until Bucky can't remember much else. His jaw clenches as Gale recounts how he half carried, half dragged Bucky to the other side of a ditch so they could get to the American side of the line.

"Gotta say, you're a couple of lucky bastards," Nixon says. "A few hours later and that town would have been either empty or back in German hands." He meets Bucky's eyes.

They go over a map for a few more minutes."We were marching in this direction,” Buck says, pointing at the map, “But it’s hard to know for sure, and there's no way to know how long they were going to make us go."

"Well, they'll meet up with the Army at some point." Nixon says firmly. "Nothing classified about it - we're making gains in all directions. It won't be long."

Bucky nods, trusting him and his intuition. At least he could sleep at night knowing he didn't resign his friends to too many more months of hell.

"Any chance you'll be the one to break them out of there?" Bucky asks.

"It's hard to say." Winters says eventually. "We're assuming our next move is into Germany, possibly farther into the Reich than Berlin. We won't know until we get our orders." He looks apologetic, and both Bucky and Buck know that despite their rank, despite the fact that they’re all officers in the Army, Winters can’t tell them much more. He probably shouldn’t have told them any of this at all.

Winters switches gears, turning to Kat. "What's the diagnosis, Kat?"

"Concussion watch for Major Egan," she meets his eyes briefly, "Two broken ribs and obviously the damage to his left eye." Her tone is pretty clinical, but Bucky doesn't take it personally. "I'd like to get some food in both of them, and Major Cleven's got a cough I don't like the sound of."

"Well, he’ll fit right in then.” Nixon says.

Kat rolls her eyes and kicks the Captain lightly with one dangling foot. "I think the interrogation will have to continue another day. I'd like Roe to check them out too." She continues quietly. At their nod, she takes charge, a hand on Buck's shoulder to guide him out the door, and a glance over her shoulder at Bucky signaling that he should follow.

Outside, he finally asks. "Why is it you don't have one of those lapel pins yet, Gray?"

She snorts. "I should think it's obvious, Major."

"Really, the rank thing is all bullshit anyway." He says.

"John..." Buck grumbles as they walk.

"It's okay--" Kat says, stopping only when they hear a loud whistle overhead. Bucky's entire body tenses. They’d been hearing artillery in the distance at the stalag for weeks, but it’s different when it’s happening right over their heads. "Over here." Kat’s voice is firm, urgently directing them into a doorway.

"Is that--" Buck stops short of asking, the earth rumbling under their feet for a moment.

"Enemy artillery. They're not that accurate. We're too close- they're just on the other side of the river."

"And yet...." He looks down at the way she’s setting her helmet firmly down on her head and raises his eyebrows at the urgency in her voice.

She sighs. "Let me find you both a place to sleep and some food, and then I'll tell you what the last few months have been like."

Kat leads them upstairs where they're given a small kit with some essentials, and a few k-rations to split between the two of them. They've even got a chocolate bar to split, and Bucky swears he's never tasted anything so good in his life.

"Don't go bragging about that," the soldier who handed it to him says. "I'll never hear the end of it."

Kat chuckles from her spot on a beat-up sofa in the center of the room. It’s some sort of supply depot - different members of the company trail in and out, hauling boxes with ammo, rations, and even mail at one point. It’s clear many of them are bunking in here too.

She tells them about the last few months in Bastogne - her eyes go a little hazy and her face clouds over in grief as she skips some of the nastier parts. “Once you hear the whistle of artillery like that, you don’t forget what comes after. That’s why I’m a little jumpy. Even though they’re missing us with mortars all day, it's just…” She shrugs. “It’s never a sure thing.”

"Tell me about that arm, Kat." Bucky says, curiosity getting the better of him. "Let me guess, I should see the other guy?" He asks.

"Not exactly." She says, smile dimming. “Like I said, German artillery went off pretty much every day, at all hours. I was in the wrong place at the wrong time.”

"Got knocked on her ass." Another man sitting opposite her says. His eyes have been narrowed on Buck and Bucky since they arrived.

"Oh, shut up, Lieb." Kat bites back, but there's no heat in her words.

Buck and Bucky share a look, the barest hint of a smile on Gale's face. The friendly banter makes Bucky ache for a simpler time, when they’d be doing nothing but giving each other shit and playing cards all night. It feels like a thousand years ago.

“I was wounded from shrapnel here,” she gestures at her arm. “Lost quite a bit of blood. Lucky for me, I was unconscious for the aftermath.”

More whistling suddenly sounds overhead. It sounds louder, closer than before. It's strange - Bucky knows how to anticipate enemy fighters, but this is uncharted territory for him.

"Everyone up." Kat orders, the few other men in the room standing hastily and gesturing that the Majors should follow them. "Wait--" She stops, pausing to listen. The urgency in her expression feels different than it did before, outside on the street.

"We gotta go, Kat." Liebgott says harshly, eyes a little wild.

Another whistle. The entire building shakes.

"Christ," Buck bites out through grit teeth.

On instinct, Kat reaches out to steady Bucky, one hand falling tight on his wrist. They keep each other upright, and he sees Liebgott doing the same thing on Kat's other side. His hand is clasped tight around her elbow, and then the next whistle comes screeching in.

"Go!" Buck says, always the leader, even when he's out of his element.

The four of them go racing down the steps, pausing only when the building shakes so violently, Bucky is sure it's going to come down with them still inside.

"Move!" Kat urges, pushing at his back when he falters. "I didn't nurse you back to life just to watch you die here, Major Egan." They all trip over each other halfway down the stairs when another blast hits, and Bucky coughs as dust and crumbled plaster rain down on them from above.

They've all stopped on the ground floor, crouched low as if that would stop an entire building from coming down on them. Buck's arm is over Kat's shoulders, Liebgott pressed tight to her other side.

"Medic!" The shout is nearby, and frantic. Kat squirms under Gale's arm.

"Major Cleven, I need you to let me up." She says, calm.

Buck blanches like he hadn't even realized he was doing it. "Sorry."

"No time for apologies, and none needed." She says. "Lieb, take them to the CP? They’re bunking there for the night."

With a quick smile, she's gone as if she had never been there in the first place, and they're left a little dazed, watching her go.

Out on the street, they hear raised voices, but Liebgott ushers them on, his steps quick. He keeps giving Bucky a look, so finally he decides to just tackle it head on.

"You don't have to keep looking at me like I'm going to steal your girl."

To his amazement, Liebgott's eyes go wide for a fraction of a second before he laughs, loudly. A cackle, really. "Major, she's not my girl. Though if you want a shiner to match the one you’ve already got, you keep on making the moves on her. In fact, I'd pay money to see what happens when--"

"Alright, alright." Bucky says. "I get the picture. Jesus."

"You haven't met Captain Speirs yet." Liebgott says, an amused smirk still on his face, stopping in front of yet another half crumbling building. "Third floor. Good luck. Doc Roe is up there too - Kat wanted you to see him."

Buck levels Bucky with an exasperated look as soon as they get inside. "Been awake for less than two hours and already causing trouble."

"Trouble finds me, Buck."

They head upstairs and walk right into an argument. A man is in the center of the room, hands on his hips. Another medic is in front of him, looking for all the world like he'd rather be anywhere else.

"Uh-- sorry to interrupt." Gale, ever the peacemaker, speaks up.

The man turns, giving them a view of the captain's bars glinting on his garrison cap. He says nothing, turns back to the medic in front of him. "Roe, listen. I already told her she's better off in bed but just do me a favor and give her a shift tomorrow morning. She's out there doing god knows what no matter what we say anyway. Might as well do it where you can keep an eye on her."

He exhales, turns back to the two newcomers. "Majors Cleven and Egan? I’m Captain Speirs. You'll be bunking here until we can figure out what to do with you."

Bucky bites the inside of his cheek so he doesn’t smirk. This is the infamous Captain Speirs that Kat may or may not be involved with.

"We hope we'll be out of your hair soon." Buck says.

"That'll be up to Doc Roe’s evaluation, I'm afraid." He gestures at the other medic, informally introducing them. "You've seen Kat already?"

Bucky nods. "Just got debriefed and almost shelled to death. She's somewhere dealing with a casualty."

Speirs' expression doesn't change too much, but it's enough that Bucky notices the way his jaw clenches and he shifts his weight.

"Man of few words." Bucky mutters under his breath.

"Better go see what's going on. No patrol tonight, so take your time, Roe, and for God's sake, make sure Lipton actually gets some sleep?"

"Yes, sir."

As Speirs leaves, the medic turns to them with a tired smile. "Sorry for all the commotion. We don't usually have visitors."

Bucky snorts. "You don't say." He settles himself on a chair while Roe has Buck move into a better light so he can see.

"I know Kat already did a preliminary check but I'll just do my own, if you don't mind." He frowns. "Those scars are awfully symmetrical, Major."

Bucky goes tense. Doesn't like the way Roe is sizing up his friend. Doesn't want Buck to have to relive any of it if he doesn't have to.

"Any of your jumps involve you going feet first through a German farmhouse window, Doc?" Buck rasps, eyebrow arching.

Roe hums, already moving to clean up a scrape from Buck's temple. "We had some nice fellas clear out a spot for us to land on our last jump."

"You also jump out of your planes on purpose."

Roe grins. "This is true." He wipes at a small spot of crusted blood near Buck's hairline. "This healed well enough. No infection. Seems like you might be stuck with them, though they might fade eventually."

Buck doesn't say anything. No more probing questions from the Doc either, for which Bucky is grateful.

“You and Kat both have that same cough…” He says, almost to himself. “We’ve got pneumonia going around, but your breathing sounds okay. Keep that scarf on,” he says, gesturing to the olive drab scarf tucked around Gale’s neck. “Try to stay warm. If we get another supply drop I might have something else for you, but it’ll probably have to wait until you get back home.”

Home. Thorpe Abbotts… it all seems so impossible.

"You're up, Major Egan." Roe says, waiting until he's seated in front of him to dab lightly at the bruising around his eye. "You're lucky you didn't lose this eye." He says mildly. "Looks like Kat cleaned it well; I'm not going to risk irritating it further." He stands back, crossing his arms. "About those ribs..."

Bucky bites back a wince and a noise of pain as Roe applies pressure to his midsection. “It’s not the first time. No time to let them heal up and they probably didn’t heal right the first time, either.

Roe meets his eyes. “Are you short of breath? Any stabbing pain?”

Bucky shrugs. "I've had worse."

Roe must read the expression on his face, because he doesn't push. Whether he can read in between the lines or not, he gets the message, and Bucky is grateful, because he can't talk about that night again. Not the night he was captured, and not the night he and Buck finally got out. He's just-- he wants to forget it ever happened.

"You'll bunk here with the other officers tonight." Roe says. "I'd get some rest before chow time, if I were you."

Buck and Bucky have no problem taking orders, and they're both almost asleep on their cots before their heads even hit the pillow. Bucky still feels anxious about how they're going to get back to England, but he hears the laughter of men outside, and is just grateful to be alive. To be back amongst allies, even if it's only temporary.

.

Bucky wakes early. He sits up slowly, groaning. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees someone move. “Jesus Christ, Kat.”

She cackles. “I’m so sorry. I was checking to see if you were still asleep.” She says, tone full of mirth.

He huffs as she laughs for a few more seconds before taking a step closer.

“How’s your head?”

He shrugs. “Sore.”

“Ribs?”

“Feel like I was kicked by a horse.”

“Do you think you can eat?”

He nods and Kat gestures that he should follow her. In the large living area, a few of the officers he met the day before are sitting around a long table, metal bowls with what looks like the world’s worst oatmeal in hand.

“Morning.” Captain Winters greets them both. He looks down at his wrist and checks his watch. “You should still be asleep.” He says pointedly to Kat, who has been doing her best to hide a cough in her elbow, but everyone can see the shadows under her eyes.

“Sorry sir. Wanted to check on the majors.”

“Where’s Buck?” Bucky asks suddenly, feeling guilty he hadn’t even checked.

“Took a walk.” Kat says. “Roe is with him.” She gestures for Bucky to sit, leans in to speak quietly to him. “He had a rough time sleeping.”

Bucky hadn’t heard a thing. He was so out of it, the exhaustion of the last week catching up to him.

Winters is watching him carefully. Clearing his throat, he asks, “So. Explain these nicknames to me.”

It’s so unexpected that Bucky can’t help but laugh. Bucky accepts the change in subject gratefully. He tells the whole story. Leaves out some of the more colorful details Gale would have added.

“You enlisted before Pearl Harbor?” Kat asks.

“So you beat us to the war in more ways than one,” Another officer at the other end of the table says, grinning. Bucky was introduced to Harry Welsh the night before, but he was so exhausted he doesn’t think he did more than exchange pleasantries. He likes him right away - he’s got a glint in his eye that showcases his good humor.

“Say, Gray, did you know if anyone in the Air Corps gets kicked off two crews, they get sent to the infantry?” Bucky leans back in his chair, accepts a bowl of what appears to be oatmeal from Kat as she passes it along.

“That explains a lot,” Welsh says with a wry smile.

Bucky grins. “Smartest guys in your division probably came from us first.”

Kat looks between the two men, shaking her head but smiling as she gives Bucky a faux stern look. “You’re confused, Major. We’re not just infantry. We’re the Airborne.”

The other Lieutenant down at the end of the table grins. “Could have used a few more of you bomber boys to clear the way for us on D-Day.”

“Kind of a shame I missed it, but I was otherwise occupied.” Bucky says. He looks away, not wanting to think too hard on what was going on in his head when they heard the invasion had started. It hadn’t been a good stretch of days for him.

“Morning,” Buck’s voice announces himself, and he comes in looking better than Bucky has seen him for weeks. The shadows under his eyes are still there, those scars on his cheeks prominent against his pale skin, but he looks more like himself.

“Major Cleven,” Kat says with a smile. “Got a bowl with your name on it.” Her tone is pleasant, but doesn’t leave any room for refusal. “Have a seat.”

A gentle smile tilts Buck’s mouth as he takes the bowl from her hands. “Yes ma’am.”

Buck and Bucky tuck in to their food, letting the chatter of Easy Company fill in the silence. Bucky feels…. Envious. It’s a strange feeling. He watches the way the officers and Kat and the various men who drift in and out of the building interact, and besides the guys in the Stalag, the boys in The 100th haven’t always been lucky enough to get to know their comrades like this.

It’s clear to him that Easy is a group that have been together a long time.

“What’s on your mind?” Buck asks, voice low.

He shakes his head. “Nothing. Just– wish the other guys were here. That’s all.”

Buck watches him closely. “Yeah.”

Kat is called away to the aid station before long, and they’re left with Captain Winters. He’s quiet, but asks them both where they’re from and how long they’ve been in the service. It’s an easy conversation, Lieutenant Welsh chiming in here and there before they both excuse themselves for a meeting.

“Something’s going down tonight.” Bucky says.

Buck nods, tucking another spoon of oatmeal into his mouth.

Kat comes back a little while later, lips in a tight line. The Majors watch her carefully, trying to figure out if they should go back to their rooms and give her some space.

“If you need something to do you can help me over here for a minute,” she says quietly. Her voice is flat.

“Everything okay?” Buck asks, tone gentle but inquiring. He’s good at this part - trying to get someone to open up without pushing. God knows Bucky has been on the receiving end of it more than enough times.

“Fine, I– I don’t know how much I can say.” She gestures for them to join her, and she hands Buck a handful of bandages to roll. “I’m just tired of losing people.” She says quietly, almost to herself.

Buck and Bucky don’t say anything – what is there to say? They know too how people - friends - are there one minute and gone the next. They busy themselves helping her, all three of them falling into a contemplative silence.

“You know,” Bucky says, “you’re keeping these guys alive, Kat. Even an idiot with only one eye can see that.”

That gets a smile, even a small one, and Bucky starts to feel for the first time like everything is going to be okay, eventually.

.

The door downstairs flies open with a bang in the middle of the night, and Bucky is on his feet before he even realizes what he’s doing. He has a flash of a memory - a clanging cell and screaming German voices - before he remembers where he is.

Hearing Kat’s loud voice doesn’t do anything to slow his heart rate. Across the hall, Buck is also up and moving, heading down the stairs with just one look at Bucky. Raised voices fill the space and for a minute Bucky can’t tell what’s happening.

“Here. Put him here!” Kat’s voice is high pitched and urgent, and he can hear the frustration in her voice clear as a bell.

“Majors, welcome to the patrol,” another gruff voice snaps, and a man with sergeant stripes turns to them. His face is exhausted. “Make yourselves useful and help Kat.”

“I need a light!” She calls out, looking around for anyone who can help. “Now!”

“Here–” The same sergeant is shoving past Bucky, holding out a lighter.

Buck and Bucky are moving, helping to hold down the soldier on the table so Kat can see.

“You’re all right, just keep still,” her voice lowers, hand pressed to the man’s forehead. “Major, there’s a syrette in my left pocket.”

It’s unclear which one of them she’s talking to, but Gale moves first, extracting the syrette quickly. “Better if you do it, Kat.” He says.

She takes it with nimble fingers, sticking it in the man’s shoulder. “I need Captain Speirs–” She breaks off, seeing someone over Bucky’s shoulder. She snaps her fingers. “Lip, I need the captain, we need a jeep.”

“Everyone else clear out, give her some space.”

“Not you–” Kat says, hand clasping Gale’s forearm. “Need help for one more minute. Need you to hold him here,” she says, gesturing towards the wounded man’s other shoulder.

With a deep breath, Buck does as instructed, bracing the man as Kat does something to his wound that has Bucky turning the other direction, suddenly woozy as the soldier lets out a harsh cry, writhing slightly under both Kat and Buck’s bracing hold.

Bucky moves closer despite his rolling stomach, wanting to help, but Kat lifts her head, shaking it at his approach.

“I don’t think so, Bucky. Not with those ribs.” She turns her attention to Sergeant Martin, still there with the lighter. “Sarge, I need that light closer.”

“Kat.” Buck’s voice is a little strangled, and Kat looks over quickly, eyes flicking down to the man on the table who has stopped writhing, eerily still.

She pushes him aside quickly, pressing two fingers to the man’s pulse. She sighs. “He’s okay, he’s just unconscious. Probably from the pain. It’ll be harder to move him that way.” She looks back at Martin, “Sarge, we need at least one other person.”

Just then, Lipton comes back in with Speirs hot on his heels, face tight with tension.

“Kat.” Speirs says, voice firm and full of relief all at once. “What happened?”

“Sniper to the shoulder. He’s stable but he needs a surgeon.” She responds without looking up, missing the look on the captain’s face when he sees her whole and intact.

“Martin.” Speirs barks.

The man doesn’t flinch, barely even takes his eyes off the younger private on the table. “We took fire almost immediately when we crossed the river but we got three prisoners. Liebgott and Web are trying to get some info out of them with Nixon.”

“And Patterson?” He gestures to the young private.

“Sniper, as soon as we turned a corner. No one saw him until he fired. We turned tail right after that.”

Speirs runs a hand down his face. Everyone in this room looks exhausted. Bucky wonders if he’s misreading the tension - they look how he’s felt for the last six months. “Get him in a jeep.”

Kat, Lipton, and Martin work quickly, leaving Buck and Bucky momentarily to stand there, trying to comprehend what just happened.

“Buck.”

His friend looks up, eyes refocusing, but he seems a million miles away.

“All right?”

“Fine. Just— he couldn’t have been eighteen.”

“He just turned nineteen two days ago.” Kat says roughly, reentering the room and shoving past them. “We had a party.” Her voice is a bitter, angry thing. “We keep doing these prisoner snatches, and we lost a man during the first one. It just feels so… pointless.” She looks up at them, schooling her expression. “Sorry, I shouldn’t be–”

The doors open again and Kat is back to being all business. Martin and Lipton come back inside a minute later, and the night stills, like nothing happened in the first place. Martin and Lipton lean against the now-empty table, arms crossed over their chests, and Kat all but collapses in a chair, hands trembling slightly.

“Appreciate your help, Majors.” Lipton says with an exhausted smile.

“Any time.” Bucky says. “Though I wasn’t much help.” He’s got that tone again, he knows he does, where he’s feeling like he’s not doing enough, that he’s not enough, and it earns him a sharp look from Buck.

“You two should go back to bed,” Kat says quietly. “We’re going to try to get you out of here tomorrow and it’ll be a long journey back to England.”

There’s a weird feeling brewing in Bucky’s gut where he almost doesn’t want to leave. It’s the venture into the unknown - every time they’ve been in a situation where it was going back home, back to England, or having something bad happen as the alternative, things have gone wrong.

Despite being on the front, this feels like the safest they’ve been in months, and he’s reluctant to give up this camaraderie.

Kat must read something on his face, because her shoulders straighten. “Major Egan, you’re going to go home. That’s– the rest of us don’t have that choice.”

Properly chagrined, Bucky nods. “Yeah. Yeah, of course.”

Her expression is gentle, so he knows there was no bite behind her words, he just yet again is coming to terms with the fact that she’s been through hell and isn’t the same person he met all those years ago at the pub.

“Respectfully, sirs, off to bed with you both. Right now.”

Buck puts his hands up in surrender and heads up the stairs. Bucky trails behind him, Kat on his heels. Martin and Lipton bring up the rear, both looking like they could fall asleep standing up if need be.

After a whispered conversation in the hallway, Kat taps on Bucky’s door before entering. “I didn’t mean to be harsh, before.”

“You weren’t. You’re right.”

“Still, I know it’s not easy to feel… grateful, or relieved about your situation. Especially not after what you’ve been through.”

“It doesn’t need to be the ‘who has it worse’ Olympics, Gray.” He shrugs. “Two weeks ago it was probably me, but today and tonight it’s you.” He smiles at her. “Look, you’re going through this shit day in and day out and still putting on a brave face for everyone else.” He turns to face her fully. “Ever considered a transfer to the Air Corps?” He winks to let her know he’s kidding.

“Not in a million years, Major.” She nudges him with her elbow. “Get some rest, Bucky, and we’ll reexamine those ribs in the morning.”

“Thanks, Kat.”

.

The morning comes too soon for Bucky’s liking, and when he heads downstairs, there are only the remnants of the night’s watch group milling around. No sign of Kat anywhere, which makes Bucky a little anxious, but he heads inside the other room anyway, conversation dying as soon as he enters.

A lieutenant whose uniform looks so clean, it almost hurts to look at him snaps to attention.

“No, no, no.” Bucky says, tone wary. “Uh, at ease. No need for that.”

“Sir.” He says anyway, and there are a few snickers from the other men.

“Any chance for a coffee?” Bucky asks, sending a relieved smile at a man he hasn’t met yet who hands him a cup.

“It’s not hot yet but give me a minute.”

“Thanks, uh–” He squints at the stripes, “Sergeant–”

“Malarkey.”

A few more bodies filter into the room, and finally Kat appears, spending a second frowning and fussing over Bucky. She prods gently at the bruising around his eye and he winces, trying to cover up his reaction. She sees it anyway, lines between her brows getting deeper.

“Hurts worse than yesterday?”

“Not really. The same.” He replies. He’s extremely aware of all the eyes in the room being on him and Kat, and it makes him shift his weight, suddenly uncomfortable. “Why don’t you get a cup of coffee before it’s gone, huh?” He says. “Friends are waiting for you.”

Kat looks over her shoulder. “Yeah. Okay. But don’t think you’re getting away with pretending you’re fine, Bucky.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

Kat gives him one last stern look before making a beeline for Liebgott in the corner who is holding an extra cup. He hands it over when she gets close, and Bucky watches the way the man eyes her carefully, like he’s trying to make sure she’s not going to fall apart any second.

It makes Bucky wonder about his guys, about the rest of the 100th and how they’re faring. He wonders how long the guilt will eat at him – probably until he sees for himself that they’re alive and well.

The mood in the room is tense, and Bucky wonders what happened before he came down, and notices one man’s bleary eyes on him. Bucky knows that look. The man’s attention quickly diverts to another fresh-faced private who enters the room quietly.

“Whatcha lookin’ at, Webster?”

The room falls quiet.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought, college boy.”

Bucky frowns and makes quick eye contact with Kat from across the room. Her expression is concerned.

“Are you drunk, trooper?” The lieutenant who had saluted Bucky asks, voice sharp.

“Leave me alone.”

Bucky has seen this before. Hell he’s been this before, though at least he had enough sense to not directly mouth off to Colonels Huglin or Harding… not in earshot anyway.

“Answer the question.”

“Yes, sir, I am drunk, sir. Drunk. Sick and tired of fucking patrols… taking orders.”

Sergeant Martin shifts on his seat. “Hey, Cobb. Shut up. It’s boring, okay?”

“Taking his side, Johnny?”

“Both of you–” Kat tries to interrupt.

“Shut up, Kat.”

A pin could drop three floors above them and everyone would hear it. Bucky’s jaw clenches tight, and he registers Buck entering the room behind him, footsteps quiet, clearly having overheard the entire thing.

Kat doesn’t look angry. She looks… sad? It makes Bucky wonder what happened to Cobb before he got to this point. Bucky knows the toll watching your friends die and feeling hopeless can take. He knows it doesn’t take much to reach a point you can’t come back from.

“Watch your mouth.” Liebgott fires back, taking half a step forward before Kat puts a hand on his arm to stop him.

“Sarge, they’re on their way in.” A voice from the doorway says, and Buck and Bucky move out of the way as Captain Winters and Speirs enter the room. They step out, not wanting to intrude more than they already have, but not before Malarkey hands them the promised cups of coffee that have been percolating for the last few minutes.

Bucky nods his thanks, and settles in a ripped up armchair across from Buck.

“Was hoping to get an update, but sounds like they might be in for another bad night.” Bucky says, taking a sip of the hot liquid. It’s not real coffee, but it’s warm, and he feels better almost instantly.

“What was all that about?”

Bucky shakes his head. “They’re– everyone’s tired.”

“He went after Kat.” Gale quirks a brow. “Doesn’t seem like that happens too often.”

“She held her own just fine.” Bucky says, smirking. “Besides, how many times have you had to stop me mouthing off like that? After all this shit… surprised it hasn’t happened sooner.”

They both stop for a second, savoring their coffee and trying to pretend they’re not eavesdropping.

“... I want you all to get a full night’s sleep tonight.” Captain Winters says, and the following silence is loud. Bucky’s eyebrows raise. “In the morning, you will report to me that you made it across the river into German lines, but were unable to secure any live prisoners. Understand?”

“I’ll be damned.” Buck whispers.

Everyone streams out, fresh smiles on their faces. It’s contagious, and Bucky stands when Winters greets him, leans in to shake his hand.

“Not a word, Major.”

“Of course.”

Speirs stops in front of them, and even he has upturned lips on his normally stoic face. Kat trails a few steps behind. Bucky can see it now, the way it seems like they’re extremely aware of the other one’s presence, like two magnets being drawn together, but trying to keep it quiet.

“Majors.” He says quietly. “Got an ETA on the transport to get you out of here. Tomorrow morning we’ll get you on a jeep to the hospital, and a ticket back to Thorpe Abbotts.”

Tomorrow.

It feels impossible. Buck’s hands are on his hips as he looks at the ground, a small smile growing on his face. Bucky imagines he looks the same way.

“Christ.” Bucky grins, throwing his arm around his friend’s shoulders. “Home.”

“Then we do whatever we can to bring our boys home with us.” Buck says firmly, eyes on his friend.

“They won’t let us fly–”

“I’m getting back behind that stick, John.”

Bucky nods. There’s no talking Gale out of something once he makes up his mind. And the scariest part is that Bucky knows he’ll be right there in the seat next to him if it comes down to it.

“Major Cleven,” Kat says, and she looks hesitant to interrupt. “I appreciate your ambition, but please take the time you need to fully recover.” She looks between them. “Both of you. Please.”

“Only if you do the same,” Buck says with a raised eyebrow, though his smile is assuring. “Heard you coughing all night.”

Bucky has forgotten that Speirs is still there leaning against a table in the corner, but sees him straighten out of the corner of his eye. He bites back a smile.

“Who is the medic here?” Kat asks archly.

Gale holds up his hands in surrender. “Just making sure you take your own advice.”

“You’re not the only one,” Speirs says quietly, but he too has an easy smile on his face, and with the way Kat double takes, it seems she’s just as surprised as the rest of them. “It should be a quiet night. We’ll get some chow and then get you both ready to go. Kat?”

“With you in a second,” she says, and watches as he leaves. She turns back to Buck and Bucky. “You heard Captain Winters, boys. A full night’s sleep is in order.” She crosses her arms over her chest, sending them a wry smile. “Is it weird that I’ll miss you both a little bit?”

“Don’t let tall, dark, and brooding over there hear you say that.” Bucky says quietly, an amused grin quirking the corners of his mouth.

Kat’s eyes widen. “Bucky! You can’t—”

“Jesus Christ.” Buck whispers, but he laughs too.

“I’m just teasing you. But seriously, Kat– you might not notice the way he looks at you, but I’ve only been here for two days and I can see it. Hell, every guy in there cares about you.” He gestures towards the nearly-empty room behind them. “You should hang on to that.” His voice is suddenly serious, and it makes Kat frown.

There’s so much she doesn’t know about what he’s been through in the last few months. There’s so much he doesn’t know about her. But they both know the toll war can take. They both know how easy it is to lose themselves in the horror of it.

“Can we do anything today to help?” Buck asks, trying to break the suddenly pensive mood, and Kat nods.

“If you’re up for it. We can find something.”

Hours later, they come back from helping Kat at the aid station feeling… dare Bucky say, fulfilled? He talked to so many guys, helped the ones who weren’t able write letters home to their parents and girls, and it gave him that bit of himself back, the piece he’s been trying to rediscover since he went down.

Mealtime is more subdued, but in a contented way that he hasn’t experienced in months. He’s still getting used to having halfway decent food to eat. Buck seems to be soaking it all in too - his quiet conversation with Welsh producing a few laughs and the sight of a smile on his best friend’s face gives him a little bit of hope that maybe they’re both going to be okay at the end of all of this.

.

The next morning they’re awoken by the sound of artillery in the distance. It’s not close enough to be alarmed, but Bucky was hoping for a quiet morning so they could make their getaway in peace.

He’s not really worried about anything else happening at this point, but they’re so close to enemy lines. That nagging thought in the back of his brain won’t fully go away, and probably won’t until he’s back on British soil again.

A knock on the door brings him out of his thoughts, and he straightens fully, finishing buttoning his shirt.

“Morning.” Kat says, looking tired, but happy. “We’re moving out soon. Time to go.”

Bucky nods. “Be down in a minute.”

They have nothing with them, he or Buck, so it doesn’t take them long to get ready. Downstairs in the CP, they’re greeted by the full cadre of officers.

“Good morning, majors.” Captain Winters says, saluting them as they enter. “We’ve got a transport for you back to the field hospital. You’ll link up there with the Red Cross, and then it’s an evacuation flight back to England.”

They say their goodbyes, and Bucky feels the melancholy mood settling in, even though he’s relieved to be on his way. He and Buck head outside with Kat and Doc Roe meets them at the truck.

“They’ll probably want to evaluate you again when you get to the hospital, but it should be quick.” He shakes both their hands, and then excuses himself, leaving them alone with Kat.

“I guess this is it,” Kat says, and Bucky and Buck share a look. She has no idea she’s echoing a conversation they had with each other years ago, but it makes them both smile, memories of an easier time when they had no idea what was coming next washing over them.

“Thank you, Kat.” Buck says, voice quiet and contemplative.

“You don’t need to thank me,” Kat says quietly. “I’m just happy you’re both okay and going home.”

Bucky shuffles his feet, unsure how to properly put into words what these few days with Easy Company have done for him and Buck both. Obviously the alternative could have been the end for both of them, but the universe putting them back in Kat Gray’s orbit still seems too good to be true.

“You take care of yourself.” Bucky says roughly, pointing at her.

“That’s my line.” Kat says, before closing the distance to reach for his hand, squeezing tight.

He returns the contact, unexpectedly feeling his throat getting thick. “You’ve got a good thing going here, Gray. Don’t do anything stupid, understand?”

“The same goes for you, Bucky.” She frowns. “I don’t like the idea of either of you flying again.”

Bucky shakes his head. “It’s a rule - downed pilots don’t get back in the seat. Buck just does best when he can lead. He’ll be itching to do something.”

“And you?”

Bucky smiles ruefully. “I really don’t know what the hell I want, Kat.” For this damned war to be over, he thinks.

“Kat, time to go.” A voice off to the side calls, and both she and Bucky turn to make eye contact with Captain Nixon.

“Coming.”

“Go on,” Bucky says. “Be safe.”

“You too, sir.”

Kat salutes him, which he still finds incredibly uncomfortable, but he returns it dutifully, smiling softly at her. He watches her walk over to Nixon, who hands her a pack that’s been sitting by his feet, and he can see the moment her posture changes and she prepares herself for whatever’s coming next.

“Train’s leaving the station, John.” Buck drawls.

Bucky turns to his friend and takes his offered hand as Buck hauls him into the back of the transport truck. The engine starts, and Bucky takes a minute to say a quiet prayer for Easy Company as they grow smaller in the distance, hoping that better things on the horizon are coming for all of them.

[sleepyfan-blog]

Stern Talk

Author's note: This is the next installment of the Bully(ing) Cato Sicarius fic! First. Previous. Next. This chapter was beta-read by @sistersofthelobotomy

warnings: body horror, medical quarantine,

tagged: @egrets-not-regrets @the-pure-angel @whorety-k @gallifreyianrosearkytiorsusan

Summary: Titus swiftly escorts you away from the monstrous amalgamation of machine and flesh, and you talk with one of the sergeants.

You were baffled when, as soon as the final opponent came into view, Titus and the other Ultramarines watching Cato fight in the arena that the leaders of this system had brought you to in order to watch the fights immediately began moving. Titus himself swept you up into his arms, bundling you close to his chest with one arm and ordering you in a low voice to “Stay close and hold on. I am going to be moving quickly. The situation has gotten dangerously out of hand, my lady.”

“What’s going on?” You ask, looking up into his helmeted face. If you squint, you can just see through his helmet lenses and get a glimpse at his face. Titus’ expression is tense and unhappy, and his fellow Ultramarines are in the process of swiftly gathering up the rest of the noncombatants and bringing them to Maccrage’s Honor.

Titus did not put you down, after he rushed you to one of the massive ship’s ramps. His long legs made getting up the ramp much faster than if he had set you down. He reached for the bulkhead when one of the other Ultramarines - a sergeant from the red paint on his helmet, and also of the second company from the markings on his armor spoke up, coming up next to where Titus was standing, still holding onto you protectively

“Sir, the codex astartes clearly states that -”

“Father has ordered that the quarantine procedures for our diplomatic staff, as well as for the Ultramarines exposed to the entity happen within Maccrage’s Honor’s medical bays. We cannot trust that the local population hasn’t been entirely corrupted and poisoned by the same essence that twisted the thing that Captain Sicarius is currently valiantly fighting in single combat to allow the rest of us time to evacuate our people, Sergeant. If you want to discuss possible Codex violations with the one who gave the order, I suggest you speak with Father, who gave us the order to do this himself.” Titus interrupted the sergeant, startlingly terse with the other Ultramarine.

The sergeant flinched back a little, ducking his head a little “As… As you say, sir. You will need to put the mortal down once we reach the medical bay, sir.”

“And I will do so then, sergeant. In the meantime, tend to your own charge. One of them is about to fall off the cargo ramp, Leandros.” Titus grumbled.

That caused the sergeant to mutter a curse as he rushed after the stumbling baseline mortal.

The stumbling mortal failed as their feet slipped off of the edge of the ramp, starting to plunge downward back to the planet below.

The sergeant dragged them back from the side of the ramp and held them around the waist, tucking them into his side as he grabbed another baseline mortal, following you and Titus into Maccrage’s Honor.

~

A short period of time later, you find yourself shivering a little after having scrubbed yourself thoroughly with the mildly caustic soap that the armored Apothecary had handed you to use. You were wearing a thin space-linen dress. The ship always felt a little on the cold side to you when you were in few layers. You wrap your arms around yourself as you patiently wait in the small room that you’d been led to.

Apparently, the horrific amalgamation of flesh and machinery had been significantly tainted by Chaos. While you had only limited exposure to the thing itself, there was a possibility that the Chaos Cult behind this may have tampered with the ceremonial food and drink that you had shared with the leading Magos and their advisors. Which meant that you were going to be held in solitary quarantine while they ran blood sample tests, and one of the Librarians scanned your soul for possible signs of infection.

You didn’t feel any different, but the thought of being unwillingly infected by Chaos, if only a little, caused a terrified shudder to run down your spine. You were willing to wait as long as necessary in order to ensure that your mind, soul and body were untainted by Chaos. You were keenly aware of the Imperial Truth that Lord Guilliman espoused… But the temptation to sink to your knees and begin praying to the God Emperor of Mankind was nearly impossible for you to resist.

You’d been taught the Imperial Faith since you could remember by your teachers, by your birth family. You'd heard it espoused all your life until you’d been chosen as one of Lord Guilliman’s mortal negotiators. The awe and religious reverence you felt towards the Holy Primarch and his Guardian Angels of Death had only faded as your… Interactions with a certain prickly Ultramarine grew more frequent, and you learned the sometimes-subtle shifts in mood of your boss and the Lord Regent, with whom you worked with extensively.

He had bid you to abandon the Imperial Faith for the Imperial Truth that he said was espoused by the Emperor Himself and you obeyed to the best of your abilities. Not all of your fellow diplomats had - especially as there were high ranking members of the Ecclesiarchy aboard the Maccrage’s Honor who fervently believed and preached the Imperial Faith to any who would listen… When outside the hearing of the Primarch.

You were also very keenly aware of the fact that Cato had been left to fight off that monstrosity alone, while the remaining two squads of second company Ultramarines had escorted everyone who couldn’t fight such things away to safety. His military career was long and well-decorated. He had clashed with the forces of chaos and emerged the triumphant, untainted victor in the past. You clung to that thought, and -

There was a knock on the door of the quarantine room you’d been placed in, causing you to startle a little. You walk up to the door and press the intercom button, calling out “Yes, is there something else I need to do?” You were told that the Librarians were currently involved in excising the greater chaos threat from the world that Maccrage’s Honor had landed on. The excising could take anywhere between a few hours to several months to fully exercise. During that time you would have limited contact with others until your soul and mind could be properly checked for signs of Chaos Corruption.

Sargeant Leandros was on the other side of the door. He had removed his helmet, and it was clipped to its proper spot on his belt. The other’s sandy brown hair was a touch longer than regulation, but nothing out of the ordinary. You’ve spoken with him from time to time. He’s quite focused on ensuring that himself and others follow the letter of the Codex closely, rather than thinking flexibly, from what you have observed of him. But he tries hard and seems to care for his brothers greatly. “I wished to speak with you. I have spoken with the Apothecaries. You do not show signs or symptoms of infective Chaos corruption, if indeed you have been tainted by Chaos. May I come in?”

Considering the fact that you’re wearing a simple linen slip, you called out “One moment, please.” as you grabbed the provided blanket, wrapping it around yourself and sitting on the cot in the small room “You may come in. What did you want to speak with me about, Sergeant?”

The Ultramarine opened the door to the room you were quarantining in, stepping in and closing the door behind him. Leandros seemed to fill the rest of the room, huge, especially in his armor. He stared at you for several long, awkward seconds, clearing his throat before averting his gaze for a moment, before looking at you again “I… I wanted to talk to you about some of your… Interactions with Captain Sicarius and Lieutenant Titus.”

You remembered that Leandros had been serving with both Titus and Cato for centuries. You silently wondered if you were going to get a space shovel talk about being careful with the hearts of his older brothers Or Else. Leandros wouldn’t be the only Battle Brother to have stopped by to growl at you suspiciously. Captain Agemann and Sargent Numitor among others had spoken to you, asking about your intentions with Cato and Titus. You had been honest with them, and you planned on being honest with Leandros. “Oh?” You asked, gesturing for him to continue.

The sergeant fidgeted a little, looking visibly awkward and unsure as he started to speak “I am aware of the fact that you have become very close with both aCaptain Sicarius and Lieutenant Titus. They also show a concerning amount of preference towards your safety and well-being, even in scenarios where other factors should command their attention more.” Leandros shifted from foot to foot as he continued to speak “Not that you aren’t a useful member of the diplomatic team. But I am concerned that the off-duty activities you get up to with both of them is affecting their judgment and ability to prioritize objectives properly.”

Well, that’s a new angle. Previously you’d been asked - once at sword point - what were your intentions with the two of them and why you were climbing into their beds and trying to steal their hearts. “Both Captain Sicarius and Lieutenant Titus have served the Imperium as Ultramarines for centuries. Do you truly think that I am able to distract them from their duties to such a degree?” You were genuinely curious as to what his answer would be. You loved them both dearly, but had also sworn oaths as a member of the Imperial Regent’s Diplomatic envoy. You worked hard to make sure that your love life did not conflict with your duties. You were certain that Titus and Cato did the same.

If a scenario came up where they had to choose between you or their duties - even if it meant your death or worse, you fully expected both of them to choose their duties. This thought did not upset you, you were well aware of the fact that the Angels of the Imperium had very serious and rigid duties that they tended to. It was an honor that they’d let you in so close, and you would not betray their trust and care.

“Not yet, but I am concerned that if this… If this flirtation and indulgence in carnal activities continues, they may be swayed when you are put in danger again. And it is a certainty that as long as you are a diplomat for Lord Father, that you will be put into danger regularly, much as we do our best to keep the dangerous element from reaching you and the other diplomatic mortals.” Leandros answered, slightly less tense as he explained himself. “From what I observed, you were the one to make the first… Overt moves, yes? Due to the potential power imbalance between yourself, the captain and lieutenant.”

“If you’re asking if I was the one who confessed feelings first and initiated the conversation about where things were to go, if anywhere in our personal relationships? Then yes. I was.” You respond, tilting your head a little as you look him over searchingly, trying to figure out what his angle was. This didn’t feel like a space shovel talk. You weren’t sure what this was, but it didn’t feel like a nosy younger Astartes trying to gather gossip, or trying to figure out how to woo a mortal he was interested in by going to a mortal in a relationship with older Astartes. Your conversation with Titus had been easier as Cato was… Cato was really bad at figuring out how he felt and hid his softer emotions with rage and aggression. He was getting better about that, but could still become quite aggressive when he felt vulnerable. “But the… Personal interactions I have with Captain Sicarius and Lieutenant Titus in our shared off-time is allowed.” You’d checked before initiating the conversation with Titus in the first place.

You hadn’t wanted to potentially either get him or yourself into trouble for pursuing him romantically. You and Titus had been dating for several months before Cato had stumbled his way into confessing his true feelings. That had been the first of several conversations about wants, needs and expectations.

“Unless it conflicts with their duties. And as you were the one to initiate… If you were the one to… Perhaps put a pause on the.. Off-duty interactions for a little while, to allow them to remember their duties and proper priorities, I feel that it would be for the best.” Leandros informed you, looking at you expectantly.

“You. You want me to what?” You sputter, startled by his audacity. What business was it of his what his superior officers got up to in their free time, as long as it was legal, safe, sane and consensual?

Leandros sighed, shaking his head a little before saying “If you are asking me to be plain, I shall be. I am surprised that you need me to say it directly, given your career of choice. I want you to step away from them socially and physically in your off time that you have been sharing with them. I would rather you not mention that this was requested of you by a Brother for their own sakes as-” the Sergeant hesitated for a couple of moments, clearly trying to pick his words with care “Captain Sicarius in particular is known for being volatile and quick to anger. Lieutenant Titus and I have a fraught history with one another, but I truly only mean the best for them both.”

That admission caused you to narrow your eyes a little up at him. You’d been taken aback by the sargeant’s request to break up with Cato and Titus, but had thought that he was doing so out of a misguided attempt to help his brothers, or protect them from the inevitable heartbreak, given that you were a baseline human and would live to maybe two hundred years or so with longevity treatments and space marines - unless they were killed in battle or stricken with chaos-fueled infections - could live for over a thousand years. But now you weren’t so sure if this wasn’t some sort of attempt at social sabotage.

A fairly clumsy attempt at social sabotage for an Ultramarine. You’d watched a group of Ultramarines run diplomatic circles around more than a couple of stubborn and haughty inquisitors during your time serving alongside them.

But outright saying no to him while in this confined space and it being your word against his if anything did happen… You let out a long sigh, affecting a thoughtful and sad expression on your face as you say “I will think carefully about your advice, sergeant. Thank you for coming to me with your concerns. I’m sure that you have much to do, and should get back to them.”

Leandros smiled brightly at that, reaching out and patting you lightly on the shoulder. “I am glad that you listened to my concerns, miss. I do hope that you make the right decision.” With that he turned and left your quarantine room, leaving you to your thoughts.

[fizzigigsimmer]

I feel like I saw this in a movie once… but I love it. Modern day au where Steve’s a horror fiction writer who is a little burnt out. His publisher is demanding an update to his popular ‘Upside Down’ series, so he rents a vacation cabin in the middle of the woods in upstate California to hammer out his next book. It’s a dry summer and its wildfire season so the locals are on alert, but Steve has gone zero contact. When a fire starts upwind, the authorities urge people to evacuate the area as a precaution. Steve’s personal assistant (maybe El?) freaks out remembering he has no way of hearing the news. She gets in contact with the local authorities to get someone to go out to the cabin. Billy’s the grumpy firefighter who is not happy to be an errand boy, who is sent to Steve’s door.

lol maybe Steve thinks it’s a joke. After all the sky is clear, the birds are chirping, he doesn’t smell any smoke and it would be just like Robin to send him a stripper when he is supposed to be zero contact until his book is finished. Steve’s like “Yeah, no I know the spiel, there’s a fire, and I’d love to see how you work your hose but I have a deadline.” 😂

Edit: Steve forever insists that Billy was this close to just going with it and giving him a lap dance. Billy insists he’s not that much of an idiot. The one awkward dinner they have before the wedding when Steve’s dad asks what he does for a living (even though Steve has definitely told him a million times) Billy looks at him stone faced and says he’s a stripper, and now Steve’s family is just convinced that Steve is lying about Billy being a firefighter to save face.

[jetwhenitsmidnight]

Take All of Us by Natalie Lief

Publisher: Peachtree Teen / Holiday House

Release date: 4 June 2024

Genre: young adult apocalyptic/dystopian horror

If you like:

Unbury-your-gays

Disabled kids surviving an apocalypse together

Found family

Zombies 🧟‍♂️

Some light cannibalism

Rating: ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️💫/5

Synopsis

Five years ago, a parasite poisoned the water of Ian’s West Virginia hometown, turning dozens of locals into dark-eyed, oil-dripping shells of their former selves. With chronic migraines and seizures limiting his physical abilities, Ian relies on his best friend and secret crush Eric to mercy-kill any infected people they come across.

Until a new health report about the contamination triggers a mandatory government evacuation, and Ian cracks his head in the rush. Used to hospitals and health scares, Ian always thought he'd die young... but he wasn’t planning on coming back. Much less facing the slow, painful realization that Eric left him behind to die.

Desperate to confront Eric before the parasite takes over, Ian joins two others left behind—his childhood rival Monica and the jaded prepper Angel—on a journey across town. What they don't know is that Eric is also looking for Ian, and he's determined to mercy-kill him.

Content warnings

Death, violence

Ableism

Blood, gore, body horror

Cannibalism (but its not super graphic imo)

Vomiting (but descriptions of vomit is minimal)

Abandonment

Past medical content

Epidemic

Hallucinations

Mentioned physical/parental abuse

Review

Thank you to NetGalley for an ARC!! 💀🧟🛢️

There's a post about how if people became zombies they would just continue going about their day-to-day lives because that's what their bodies remember. That is literally this book.

I found the synopsis to be rather misleading. It gives the impression that this book is a scary survival thriller, where the characters have to fight to stay alive, against terrible odds with heavy angst. While Ian, our main boy, does do some angsting, for the most part, this book feels really cute and cozy to me. The begrudging-allies-to-found-family pipeline is real and I eat it up every single time. The characters initially beef with each other upon meeting, but quickly bond over their shared circumstances (being abandoned, chronic illnesses, being outcasts). I liked how the author quickly established their personalities and circumstances, making it clear how their dynamic works from the get-go.

I'm sleep deprived and running out of steam so the rest of this review is in bulletpoints.

The Romance

Cute!

It's giving 😳👉👈

I didn't expect it to turn out the way it did, given the synopsis, which made it sound very ominous.

The Chronic Illness Rep

idk how accurate it is, as I have no first-hand experience

The synopsis says that Ian gets chronic migraines, but he is dead for most of the book, so he doesn't have any migraines in the story, but he also doesn't mention it ever

He does talk about his epilepsy though, but mainly in terms of how people react to him (staring, calling for an ambulance when he doesn't need it)

The synopsis says that Monica is chronically ill, though the book doesn't state exactly how, and she also uses a cane

Character Arcs

Ian's arc is mainly about how, as a chronically ill person, he struggles to take up space because of the guilt he feels from needing people to help him

I think Ian's arc was well-executed, but the arcs for all the other characters were lacking

I wish Eric could have gotten his own arc, he has a bunch of stuff that goes unaddressed

The Premise

The most unrealistic part of this book is that the dead people have oil for blood and the US government didn't round them up and throw them in the Oil Extractor 3000

The most realistic part of this book is that the government (belatedly) discovered a parasite in this town's water supply that turns people into zombies and instead of trying to clean the water or evacuate the townspeople, just told them to drink filtered water

Amount of Horror

Most of this book didn't read like horror to me, other than the light cannibalism

The last 10% is the most horror-y part, very trippy and strange, with more gory bits

Overall

This wasn't the best written book, there were some minor plot holes, and the character development could use some work

But! This was so entertaining and so much fun to read so 5 stars just for enjoyment reasons

[athis333]

The Soviet cultural machine advanced a limited view of Prymachenko. She was cast as a “naive old lady in a headscarf,” one who merely painted flowers and fanciful beasts, as art historian Oksana Semenik writes in her monograph accompanying the exhibition. It is unclear whether the Soviet elite failed to see the darker and more subversive spirit of Prymachenko’s paintings, or merely wanted to avoid drawing attention to it. Regardless, such a reductive view misses a crucial part of what makes Prymachenko’s work extraordinary. 

Pain, fear, and loss figure surreally in many of her paintings, suggested by her use of dark colors, the looks of alarm or menace on the faces of some creatures, and their often uncanny, creepy forms. For Prymachenko, her art was a way to represent the horrors she had witnessed, particularly during the Second World War. “I spent so much time thinking about that war—hours, days, difficult years. I always wanted it to be preserved in my paintings,” she said. “I depicted the war itself, which I saw with my own eyes, its beastly guts.” Even a painting that at first glance may seem cheery can host a lurking threat: “Above everything shines the sun, which resembles a sunflower, but also a clawed beast,” wrote the literary critic Tamara Hundorova.

Prymachenko’s work also manages to engage critically with the Soviet system. Some of her most mesmerizing paintings are the ones she made in the aftermath of the nuclear catastrophe at Chornobyl. The disaster unfolded close to home, literally: Prymachenko’s village of Bolotnya is about thirty miles from the site of the meltdown, and the artist, then in her late seventies, disregarded the Soviet authorities’ guidance to evacuate. One of the most powerful paintings in this series on display at the Ukrainian Museum is a flower-filled homage to the fourth reactor at the Chornobyl power plant. The petals and stems are arranged in beautiful symmetry, recalling Prymachenko’s early embroidery. Doves fly above the reactor while children dressed in traditional Ukrainian clothing bring flowers to lay at its base. The scale of the splendor in the painting conveys the loss at its heart. Evidently, the Soviet authorities feared the impact of that message: none of Prymachenko’s Chornobyl work was made public until after the collapse of the Soviet Union. 

Prymachenko often added long and revealing captions to her work as her career progressed, employing idiosyncratic grammar in her local Polissyan dialect. At turns lyrical, sarcastic, and heartfelt, they are an art all their own. One caption, written on the back of her Chornobyl painting, is especially moving: “This is how the fourth reactor came to me in a dream. Flowers will grow on it. And children will bring flowers. Everything around it will be like a memorial forever. Doves will fly our heroes saved us left us.” 

If the Ukrainian Museum show has a weakness, it’s that the titles and captions of the bulk of the paintings on view can only be accessed via a QR code—and only in simplified form. Take, for example, the painting the museum refers to as Mr. Reagan, Look at This Picture. The work is a Prymachenko beast par excellence—a red, scaly creature with a single penetrating eye and big teeth about to chomp down on a tiny frog. Prymachenko’s full caption reads: “Mister Reagan, look at this picture and understand how heavy and burdensome and foolish the atom is. Take a look and make peace with us so there will be peace on Earth. The atom is beautiful, if you toy with it, you can say goodbye to your family.” There’s a lot to unpack here: the beast, at once ugly and beautiful, could be a nuclear superpower about to crush a delicate creature (the atom? humanity?) in its powerful jaws. But without the full caption, visitors miss these suggestive layers. 

Some of Prymachenko’s imagery may have been dark and disturbing, but we shouldn’t assume that her art was fundamentally pessimistic. Rather, it helps Ukraine’s historical traumas find new expression—and even new meaning—as they are confronted, honored, played with, and transcended. 

[moonlit-trolls]

So, what exactly do you do for a living, Mousie?

[Docs for your sake]

—Hello I am Janett with The Empress’ Daily. We interrupt your normal daily broadcast to cover the most recent news that happened. We find ourselves in the scene of one of the largest bank robberies in the history of the north-west side of alternia. There was a bomb threat sent out to the Local Bank Seventy miles from here and the fleet were on high alert at the location of the bomb threat, Location was evacuated and all they ended up finding was a Briefcase with a Confetti and Glitter Bomb Inside, That had a decorative Cheese wheel as well as the word “Mouse’s got your tongue” with what seems to be an online communications Emoticon of someone Smiling.

    Currently we find ourselves in the general bank of the Northern East Side of the City, Where an Explosion alerted the people inside, Furthermore it seems like it was not an actual explosion but a sound coming from a machine able to do an extremely loud Booming sound without any actual damages. The Scene of the crime Appears to have been destroyed by a Construction Grade Wrecking ball. For the damage to the bank’s Vault and Side wall can be related to similar attacks of Property By Wayward Drones. The Bank’s Vault door is Inoperable if you do not have the Bio-metric scanners corrected, but it seems that the lock and main entrance was melted by what authorities affirm was extremely Rusted metal combined with black gunpowder. To create the Thermite Chemical Reaction. The metal oxidized within seconds and the Rusted Iron was melted with a flame ranging 1400°-1900° Celsius. It seems as if it was a Soldering torch that did the job. No suspects have been seen, but the same Internet Communications Emoticon has been sighted inside with the same Decorative block of Cheese with the words “Mouse Is Out of The House” written on the wall—

    Click The television makes a sound as it goes off, You are slouched over the reclining chair in bad need of Repairs eating mozzarella sticks straight out of the bag,You can see and hear your Nannybot with the blues painted Black, humming a mechanical song that doesn’t sound natural, Sounds scripted

    —C’mon MayMay, Cut the song and dance. Play some real music— Your voice echoes on the run down hive As the nannybot does as she is asked. Her audio system makes a noise as it adjusts and begins playing something more your style, The strumming of a badly tuned guitar, the off-beat bass and drums, Everything sounded Perfect As the band yelled their name for the nonexistent stage “WE ARE THE THREE MOUSEKETEERS!” Your voice was the one that boomed out. Alongside it the Fond memories of the band also came to mind.

    Personally you are proud of the job, Maeyie had already counted the bills to a perfect $200,000 Duffle bags as well as suitcases held it all under the floorboards you walk atop of to head to the kitchen area, Small apartment means that it’s all one singular room, not that you care. You want toast in this rainy mid-day, butter, two slices of bread into the frying pan. you believe that any bread can make pan toast, but you prefer sourdough, other people may wish for whole wheat or nuts might go for raisin bread. But you like the consistency of Sourdough, and you are not a simpleton to go with white basic bread. 

    –There is always a method to my madness– You thought to yourself as you ate the first bite of the first slice – I know what I am doing – You say looking out of the blinds, the police sirens finish what the music that Maeyie was playing lacked, The rhythm made sense and the lyrics tracked as the cars wooshed past your window leaving the strange neighborhood you found yourself in with dust to the roofs of buildings due to their speeds. as the sound of music is stopped you hear

    —Master Bonnie, Would You Wish For Me To Make You A Proper Diner?— Her voice was sweet, something you heard not once before from someone as earnest as her… Deeply you wish she was more than a robot so you could be actual friends. But you know that  behind the sweet voice and gestures, lies nothing more than ones and zeroes, and last time you spoke to numbers they called you crazy. But nonetheless you answer.

    —I, yeah man, we got some leftovers, can you mix it all with manioc flour and make some canned beans?— and the machine smiled —Of course Master Bonnie!— and began with the cooking. Her arms moved faster than you cared to look, it’s almost natural how well she knows what you enjoy. She bakes you cupcakes, and brings you what you want… She has to be more than just a bot. 

After leaving with notes that are not marked you come back with groceries, There is a warm plate of food on the table, a little card with a crudely drawn picture of Maeyie smiling, as well as a cup of Strawberry soda, your favorite, As you can see your nannybot Recharging on her station a bit off the wall. –Tastes good as always…– you say eating it, Manioc flour goes well with everything. lightly roasted before being added to dishes, it adds a depth of flavor and filling that no one would believe. you learned that from someone who you haven't talked to since you were basically a kid. but his teachings remain in your head. you warm the second slice of bread you toasted earlier to eat with, it never hurts to add some sourdough to a plate of rice and meat, Never hurt you at least.

    — This feels familiar… — you mutter to yourself looking at the empty chair in front of the counter —Eh, Doesn’t matter— the voice that comes out of you is strained, as if you were lying more to yourself than to the ghosts that are sitting on your broken down chair as you turn the television on. and the broadcast has a random Indigo-blood in custody for the robbery of the bank. 

[theculturedmarxist]

Posted onJune 6, 2023 by Yves Smith

Ukraine and Russia are pointing fingers at each other over the massive breach of the Nova Kakhova dam. Readers likely recall that the fear that Ukraine would blow up the dam led Russia to take the seriously-bad-from-an-optics perspective move of pulling out of Kherson City. Destruction of the dam would flood its low-lying sections and the resulting damage would make the already-difficult task of supplying troops close to impossible.

Note many commentators are jumping to the conclusion that the dam was destroyed (being critically damaged versus destroyed may seem too fine a point, but it can have implications for the severity of flooding). I am trying to get the input of construction/major earthworks expert bob from Syracuse, who provided very detailed commentary on the failure of the Oroville Dam in California.

Nevertheless, a seriously big time flood is underway:

If you look at the water, you can see it is rushing over the center but the dam was not taken out from side to side.

What matters in terms of flood levels is how many feet down the dam has been taken out, which no one not on site can readily guess well, at least now1. How much the water level rises below the dam depends on how low the lowest level of water restriction now is, and whether that gets eroded any further due to the action of the flood.

Also keep in mind the lower Dnieper is marshy, a flood plain near its mouth. So even if the water rise is not as bad as it could have been, it will still damage a lot of terrain.

The New York Times has some intel on flooding (note each snippet as a separate source ffrom the Times’ staff which I omitted to reduce visual clutter):

The local Ukrainian military administration said that water downstream of the dam will reach critical levels in five hours, or around noon local time. The water level in the Kakhovka Reservoir is dropping at a rate of about 15 centimeters, or 6 inches, per hour, the military administration in Nikopol, a Ukrainian-controlled city on the shore of the reservoir, said in a statement. Ukraine’s Ministry of Interior said local authorities in 10 towns and villages and in the city of Kherson were told to prepare to evacuate residents. Some low-lying neighborhoods in Kherson city are at risk but not the entire city.

Evacuations have started. From CNN:

In a video statement posted on Telegram, Oleksandr Prokudin, the Ukraine-appointed head of the Kherson region military administration, said the water “will reach critical level in five hours.”… Prokudin said evacuations in the “area of danger” around the dam had started and asked citizens to “collect your documents and most needed belongings and wait for evacuation buses.” “I ask you to do everything you can to save your life. Leave the dangerous areas immediately,” he added. Units of Ukraine’s National Police and the state emergency service of the Kherson region have been put on alert to warn and evacuate civilians from potential flood zones, Ukraine’s Ministry of Internal Affairs said.

Also note Twitter is full of the charge that this is a war crime….largely blaming Russia. This is on its face nonsensical. What is damaged is Kherson, territory that Russia says is now its own, even if it controls only part now, and water supplies to Crimea. The flooding is also taking out defensive fortifications and mines planted by Russia.

You don’t salt land in your own territory, and Russia has taken the legal steps under its law laying claim to all of Kherson.

Reuters tries to stand a bit above the fray:

Ukrainian President Volodymyr Zelenskiy blamed Russia for the damage. “The destruction of the Kakhovka hydroelectric power plant dam only confirms for the whole world that they must be expelled from every corner of Ukrainian land,” Zelenskiy wrote on the Telegram messaging app. Ukraine’s military said that Russian forces blew up the dam. Russian-installed officials in Kherson said Ukraine struck the dam at 2300 GMT several times, destroying the hydraulic valves of the hydroelectric power station but said the dam was not totally destroyed. “We ask all residents of coastal settlements to be ready for evacuation,” the Russian-controlled region said. “Emergency and special services of the region are in full readiness and will provide all necessary assistance.”

The Washington Post is also not assigning blame, perhaps a signal that the US does not want NATO dragged in (a least unless and until Ukraine can provide receipts. Its headline is Ukraine live briefing: Major Ukrainian dam damaged, threatening southern areas with flooding. First para:

A major dam in southern Ukraine has been damaged, allowing large amounts of water to flow out of a reservoir and prompting officials to order residents of surrounding areas to evacuate. There was no immediate claim of responsibility. Both Russia and Ukraine have previously accused each other of plotting to destroy the dam, without providing evidence.

Some early confirmation of the Ukraine skeptics’ case:

This act looks like a Ukraine twofer:

1. A statement that if Ukraine has no good prospect of retaking territory now under Russian control, it would rather destroy it than let Russia have it

2. An effort to get NATO to commit troops

There has also been noise about risk to the Zaporzhizhia power plant. Some Twitterati say this is not an issue due to the degree to which the plant has been mothballed:

Ukraine sources seem to agree:

And an update (4:40 AM EDT) from Slavyangrad:

There is no water rise at the Zaporozhye NPP, there is no threat to the safety of the station due to the explosion of the Kakhovskaya HPP dam; There is no threat of flooding in Crimea due to the destruction of the Kakhovskaya hydroelectric power station, Aksenov said There is a risk that the North Crimean Canal will become shallow. Drinking water is more than enough. Work is underway to minimize water losses in the canal, the Governor of Crimea added.

Rybar is more alarmist:

* * *

I am afraid I am giving the promised second half of the post short shrift due to the hour.

We now seem to have a Schrodinger’s counteroffensive, with two major Washington whisperers, the New York Times and The Hill, weirdly reluctant to call whether the famed Ukraine counteroffensive has started. First from the New York Times, in As Ukrainian Attacks Surge, U.S. Officials See Signs of Counteroffensive:

Ukrainian forces have stepped up artillery strikes and ground assaults in a flurry of military activity that American officials suggested on Monday could signal that Kyiv’s long-planned counteroffensive against Russia had begun. The fighting, which began on Sunday, was raging along several points on the front line, but farther to the east of where many analysts had expected Ukraine’s counteroffensive to launch. Even if it has started in that eastern area, experts said, the battle would allow Kyiv’s troops to try to accomplish the same goal: Head south toward the Sea of Azov and cut off the land bridge connecting occupied Crimea to mainland Russia.

And The Hill in Ukraine’s counteroffensive appears to have started: Here’s what to know:

Ukraine began launching attacks in the eastern Donetsk region over the weekend in what appears to be the first wave of Kyiv’s long-anticipated counteroffensive. Ukrainian commanders have sent in mechanized brigades, including heavy battle tanks, along with conventional troops to assault several locations in the southern Donetsk region, where Russian troops are entrenched.

Maybe that’s just to keep their options open. If these attacks can be tarted up as meaningful successes, this will later be deemed as the start of that overdue initiative. Otherwise, it will be branded as yet more reco in combat or deception operations.

Dima at Military Summary reported that the Ukraine push in the Vremevka bridgehead resulted in Ukraine capturing a couple of small settlements, with Russia pushing the forces nearly all the way back overnight…at a cost claimed by the Ministry of Defense of 300 Ukrainians and 56 combat vehicles, including 16 tanks. Ouch. Dima also described meaningful Russian gains in Marinka.

By contrast, Rybar is critical of how the Russian regular forces have managed the rotation of forces in Bakhmut, saying that Ukraine forces were able to exploit communication gaps. However, other sources are not citing meaningful Russian setbacks or outsizes losses. By contrast, Dima describes two Ukraine assaults in Bakhmut, one where they created a bridgehead that Prigozhin complained about bitterly, while on his map, Dima outlined one penetration to the north area and deemed it to be an “artillery bag” as in Ukrainians who’d entered were not likely to leave (Dima tends to be excitable, so an underreaction is not in character for him). Dima reported on Ukraine claims of territorial gains by Ukraine further north in Bakhmut and to its south. He discounted the “how much” part but thought it did mean an attempt was made, Ukraine might have taken some terrain, and there were costs on both sides.

Finally, some have rejected the Ministry of Defense claims below, but there were reports earlier of up to 1000 Ukraine casualties a day. If Ukraine has been attacking at more points on the extended front lines and Russia now has much more ammo and men and even better command of the air than before, I don’t see how this can be rejected out of hand:

But yes, we should also wait for further indicators of large losses, like hospitals (again) filling up.

This is so sad and ugly. We are the ones who keep pressing Ukraine to keep throwing itself against a formidable force that still has a lot in reserve. The human and environmental costs to Ukraine will continue to mount. And we stepped in to prevent a peaceful end in April 2022. You could blame Russia for starting the conflict, but its continuation and escalation is all on the West.

[beardedmrbean]

U.S. President Joe Biden on Tuesday declared a state of emergency in Vermont, where torrential rainfall has triggered life-threatening flash floods.

The president's action frees up federal resources to supplement the state and local response efforts as well as authorizing the Federal Emergency Management Agency to coordinate all disaster relief efforts across Vermont.

Many rivers in the Green Mountain State were "expected to crest overnight at flood levels," according to a joint press release from the Vermont Department of Public Safety and the Vermont Emergency Management. As of Tuesday morning, swift water rescue teams had already performed more than 100 rescues, primarily in the towns of Londonderry, Weston, Bridgewater, Andover, Ludlow and Middlesex, according to the Vermont Emergency Management.

"Vermonters should be vigilant and aware of conditions as floodwaters rise," both agencies warned in the press release on Monday night. "If flooding approaches your home evacuate to higher ground sooner rather than later, your route could be compromised by floodwaters and leave you stranded."

Vermont's capital, Montpelier, issued an emergency health order closing downtown until 12 p.m. ET on Tuesday as the Winooski River, which runs through the city, recedes. Water levels were expected to drop between 8 a.m. and noon ET, according to Montpelier city manager William Fraser.

"This will allow officials to assess safety risks and begin clean up efforts," Fraser said in a statement via social media on Monday night. "We know that business owners will be anxious to check out their stores but we urge patience."

However, the city was forced to extend the downtown travel ban until 3 p.m. ET on Tuesday because water levels were reducing slower than initially projected. This came as the Winooski River crested in Montpelier at 21.02 feet, the highest level since 1927.

In another statement early Tuesday, the Montpelier city manager warned that the Wrightsville Dam, located at the intersection of the municipal borders of the towns of Montpelier, Middlesex and East Montpelier, "only has 6 feet of storage capacity left," which he said "could be a dangerous situation."

"If water exceeds capacity, the first spillway will release water into the North Branch River," Fraser added. "This has never happened since the dam was built so there is no precedent for potential damage. There would be a large amount of water coming into Montpelier which would drastically add to the existing flood damage. This will be particularly bad along the North Branch River corridor and into the downtown. Unfortunately, there are very few evacuation options remaining. People in at risk areas may wish to go to upper floors in their houses."

Montpelier Police Chief Eric Nordenson urged members of the public to stay out of the downtown area and off city roads on Tuesday morning, saying in a statement that first responders, rescue crews and dispatchers "are spread very thin and will need time to assess the damages."

The emergency in Vermont came as heavy rainfall drenches the northeastern United States, with flooding expected in the New England area from upstate New York to western Maine. The extreme weather began on Sunday, affecting much of the Mid-Atlantic and Northeast regions, prompting flash flood alerts in parts of New York. The system pushed north on Monday, with the heaviest rainfall and reports of significant flash flooding occurring in Vermont.

[krunchymunchy]

John - P1 // short story

I'm john. I used to work as HR at Grace's Health and Services over in Mesquite. Mostly just handled payroll and logging. My birthday? God, uh; I think April 3rd, 85? So I guess I'm 38? God I haven't been asked that question forever ago. What was I doing day one? Uh, God that was years ago. Quite a blur but let me see if I can recall. I was at my desk when my phone started blasting. My ex-wife was calling saying she took Sophie out of school since she was nearby. Freaking out because I know she damn well knows weekdays are when Sophie is with me, I unlocked my phone and then the alert came on; "EAS: Undead rising." I took my glasses off thinking "What the fuck? Is the EAS hacked or something like what happened in Hawaii years back?" I clicked on the popup and read into the details. "EAS. The CDC has declared a state of Emergency in the following states: Texas, Arizona, New Mexico, Arizona, California, Oklahoma, Arkansas, Louisiana, Mississippi, Alabama, Georgia, Florida, South Carolina, Tennessee, Missouri, Kansas, Colorado, Utah, Nevada and Virginia. Health experts have confirmed a disease outbreak effecting those who have recently passed away. This disease is known to make those who are infected reanimate and have faster reflexes, increased motor function, and basic navigation. We urge you to stay indoors and avoid all contact with infected individuals. Please ensure to follow the following actions immediately: Secure your home Gather essential survival needs: Water, non-perishable food, weapons Stay informed via official outlets Avoid public areas and large gatherings to avoid the spread of the infection Stay quiet and alert- noise has been affirmed to garner infected individuals attention If you spot an infected individual before death, report all suspected infected to local authorities Follow local evacuation orders. Evac orders will be given to you via local EAS notifications. Remember to stay safe and vigilant. Do not go outside unless approved and safe guarded by military personnel to your evac zone." Shortly after reading that, everyone was freaking out in the office. Suddenly, my coworker Barry turned on the TV. I looked up and watched Governor Reyes on the podium speaking to the camera. "Today, I stand before you with a heavy heart and a sense of responsibility to safeguard our great state and its people. We are facing an unprecedented challenge, a threat to the health and well-being of our communities—a dangerous disease outbreak that requires immediate action. After careful consultation with our state's legal advisors and public health experts, I have taken the difficult decision to declare martial law in Texas. This decision has not been taken lightly. It is crucial that we act swiftly and decisively to contain the spread of this dis-" What happened next had Barry scrambling to turn off the TV, but he dropped it. I'd look back at the TV and witness the Lieutenant Governor, Patrick, rip into the neck of the Governor Reyes, his blue with white stripe suit now red, a dark maroon red. Something you'd see out of one of those cheap horror movies, but this wasn't a horror movie. I saw Samantha pass out from shock as she witnessed essentially our governor get murdered on live television. Shortly after Reyes fell and Patrick continued to devour on Reyes neck like a juicy pork shoulder, three shots rang out, multiple military personnel running over as one of them pushed the camera to the ground, still live, we could only hear the massacre and imagine what was happening. Eventually after around half a minute, it cut to a pre-recorded video of the national anthem. You know, those ones that were recorded during the cold war? Yeah, guess they never got around to rerecording those. The office was practically in chaos as people got shoved, people exiting through the front door, squeezing tightly together like a pack of sheep getting herded into a pen. I left through the back door, making sure I had my keys before I went to my car. I turned on the ignition as I quickly asked Siri to call Ada about Sophie

[unitedstatesofworld]

Ruidoso Fire Update: What’s Happening Now and What’s Next?

Have you ever wondered how quickly things can change when nature decides to throw a curveball? In the quiet mountain village of Ruidoso, New Mexico, life took an unexpected turn with the recent fires. The Ruidoso Fire Update has been on everyone's lips, but what's the latest? How are residents coping, and most importantly, when will the situation finally calm down? Well, fasten your seatbelts because we're diving deep into the unfolding story of this wildfire that has left so many in suspense.

The Calm Before the Storm

To set the scene, Ruidoso is typically known for its serene mountain views, picturesque landscapes, and a peaceful way of life. A charming retreat, it attracts hikers, nature lovers, and anyone wanting to escape the hustle and bustle of city life. But then came the fire—an unwelcome visitor that has disrupted this idyllic scene.

The Fire’s Unpredictable Nature 

Wildfires, especially in dry, forested areas like Ruidoso, can spread faster than rumors at a family reunion! The Ruidoso Fire has been no exception. The recent Ruidoso Fire Update has been a rollercoaster of emotions. One moment, it seems under control; the next, winds shift, and it's raging again.

So, what's causing this unpredictability? Well, it’s a cocktail of dry weather, high winds, and dense vegetation—a perfect recipe for disaster. Even with firefighting efforts in full swing, these factors make controlling the blaze extremely challenging.

Firefighters: The Unsung Heroes 

First responders have been working around the clock, battling the flames day and night. It's like a game of cat and mouse, with the fire always seeming to be one step ahead. However, the dedication of these brave souls cannot be overstated.

Coordinated Efforts: Multiple agencies, both local and national, have come together to tackle the fire, showcasing teamwork at its finest.

Helicopter Support: Water and retardant drops have been crucial in keeping the fire at bay, especially in hard-to-reach areas.

Evacuations: Swift evacuations have been crucial in saving lives. This fire doesn’t mess around, so when authorities say "get out," they mean it!

What’s the Latest on the Ruidoso Fire?

As of the latest Ruidoso Fire Update, authorities have managed to contain about 60% of the fire. While that number might seem promising, it’s no time to relax. The winds could pick up again, turning that containment into a distant memory.

Residents are still under evacuation orders in certain areas, and the smoke levels remain hazardous. Some good news? The weather forecast predicts a slight chance of rain, which could help douse some of the remaining flames. Fingers crossed!

The Impact on Ruidoso’s Community 

When disaster strikes, communities often come together, and Ruidoso has been no different. The resilience shown by its residents is nothing short of inspiring. But the impact of the fire has been devastating in more ways than one.

Homes Lost: Several families have lost their homes, a painful reminder that Mother Nature doesn't discriminate. The full extent of the damage is still being assessed, but it’s clear that rebuilding will take time.

Businesses on Hold: Small businesses, which are the backbone of this community, have also suffered. With evacuations in place and tourism at a standstill, many are wondering how long it will take before they can reopen.

Environmental Toll: Let’s not forget the wildlife and the environment. The once lush, green forest is now a charred landscape, and it will be years before it returns to its former glory.

Staying Informed: Where to Get the Latest Updates 

If you're looking for the most recent Ruidoso Fire Update, there are a few reliable sources you should keep your eye on:

Local News Channels: They’ve been on the ground, providing real-time updates.

Social Media: Follow the official Ruidoso Fire Department’s Twitter account for timely alerts and updates.

Emergency Apps: Apps like FEMA and Red Cross provide live updates and evacuation notices for those in affected areas.

Information is coming fast and furious, so make sure to stay informed and heed any evacuation warnings!

Lessons Learned from Past Fires

Unfortunately, Ruidoso isn’t a stranger to wildfires. In the past, the village has faced several fires, each teaching valuable lessons. This time around, residents and authorities were quicker to act, evacuations were smoother, and the coordination among agencies was sharper. While these fires are unpredictable, preparation has made a difference.

Looking Ahead: What’s Next? 

What does the future hold for Ruidoso after this fire? Recovery, without a doubt, will be a long process. But with the community’s strength, there’s hope on the horizon.

Rebuilding Efforts: Once the fire is fully contained, rebuilding will begin. Homes will be restored, businesses will reopen, and the town will once again flourish.

Prevention Measures: With climate change and rising temperatures, these fires are becoming more frequent. Moving forward, Ruidoso will likely invest in better fire prevention and response strategies.

Environmental Recovery: Nature has an incredible way of bouncing back, but it will take time. Forest regeneration efforts will be key in restoring the area’s beauty.

Staying Safe During Wildfires 

Here are some quick tips to keep in mind if you ever find yourself in a similar situation:

Have a Go-Bag Ready: Include essentials like water, food, medications, and important documents.

Stay Informed: Keep up with updates and be prepared to evacuate at a moment’s notice.

Protect Your Home: Trim back vegetation, clean out gutters, and remove any flammable materials from around your property.

Remember, the safety of you and your loved ones comes first!

Conclusion: Ruidoso Will Rise Again 

The Ruidoso Fire Update is still evolving, but one thing is certain—this community is tough. Despite the challenges and heartbreak, the people of Ruidoso are determined to rebuild and come back stronger than ever. Wildfires may scar the land, but they can't break the spirit of those who call this place home. Let’s keep the hope alive, and as always, stay safe!

[forensicated]

04x32 - Evacuation

It's a busy day in the front office. Yorkie is dealing with a couple who are reporting that their car was unlocked when they returned. Nothing was stolen or damaged and the petrol hasn't been siphoned so Yorkie is at a loss for what they want him to do. They're adamant they didn't leave it unlocked and storm off , claiming he isn't listening.

There's a large amount of people still waiting to be seen who aren't impressed they've got to wait to be buzzed in. Mike and Tosh come in the front way and are growled at by a very angry woman who insists she's first. Tosh and Mike are amused when they're buzzed through - Mike has to remain at the door for a little while to stop said stroppy woman pushing through.

A young blonde woman is dragged in by Viv and Bob who goes on to assault Viv. She keeps screaming that she wants to see her kids. It turns out that the woman is 18, has three kids and she laid into her mother with a saucepan when she called her the Canley Bike. A woman in the next cell yells at the screaming woman to shut up. A man who owes his ex-wife £500 in maintenance is preparing for 3 months in prison rather than pay the ex. He's singing happily in the men's cells.

Reg talks about the police and prisoner officers' union with PC Extra whilst Pete and Malcolm laugh about a Day In The Life Of A Policeman article for the local paper they've found in the toilets. They've just got to find out who wrote it now.

Yorkie's next caller is a man who claims his cat isn't eating her usual Whisker's food because she's been 'tempted away' by next door who is feeding her but he claims it's poison. Yorkie tells them to go and talk to his neighbours and if it is poison it could be for something else.

Stroppy!woman slips through when Taffy and June come in and starts complaining to Yorkie that she's been waiting ages and that she deserves to be seen and dealt with immediately She's been kicking off and repeatedly ringing the bell whilst Yorkie tried to deal with the others.

June and Taffy are buzzed through, much to the distaste of Stroppy!Woman. June reminds him the man that Yorkie has been talking about to take his bag with him but he is confused and claims he hasn't got one. Taffy shouts at June when she asks how Mary is and tells her to leave him alone. June explains to Bob she only asked how his wife was and he bit her head off. "Yeah well he's a Celt, he's got built in misery." Taffy throws his helmet into his car and searches for something but has no luck finding it.

Pete continues reading from the would-be author's article. "What's going on in the policeman's mind...?" "Not much in your case, Ramsey!" Alec adds from the next table. He tells him to go and help Yorkie but Pete reads the next bit about Alec "Reporting to the section Sgt can be tricky. Section Sgt's are generally long on experience but short on what they need for further promotion. They are men who usually have a sixth sense when a PC is trying to pull a fast one because after all, they've pulled enough of their own." "RAMSAY!" "Going, Sarge...!"

Yorkie has clicked on to the bag being left in the front office and the cat-reporting-man insists it's not his. It's not the woman who keeps demanding that Yorkie deal with her either and no one else is in the front office. Yorkie tells the woman to shut up. He loses his temper and shoves them both outside before inviting Pete to have a look at the abandoned bag. They've no idea who left it or how long it's been there so Pete evacuates the waiting public out of the station completely and Yorkie goes to speak to Christine and tell her they have an abandoned suspect package. Derek has a look from a distance and says it looks like laundry but he's not taking chances. He asks Tom to contact Bomb Disposal and Area and Christine tells Yorkie to sound the fire alarm to evacuate the building.

Alec asks Bob if they should have a word with Christine about the proposed article Pete found and Bob suggests having a quiet word around and otherwise letting it go. The fire alarm sounds and the building is evacuated with prisoners taken outsidey. The singing man is still singing to Pete as he's cuffed to him. Christine checks the building over with Derek. It's amazing how many staff are ignoring the alarm or who are taking forever to leave - including Frank who is reading statements and Taffy who is searching the bins in the men's toilets for some reason...*cough*

Dashers upsets Yorkie by blaming him for not keeping an eye on what people brought into the station. Tosh tells him to shut up, especially when they saw how busy it was firsthand when they returned to the station. Yorkie tells him to back off and threatens Mike when he continues and he points out the bag would have been present when Mike and Tosh arrived so they could have seen it and mentioned it earlier. Frank wants Dashers to interview a suspect and take a statement so tells him to do it in the car to save time which means Yorkie has to get out and Mike to take his place. Yorkie challenges Dashers to a fight after their shift finishes.

Malcolm looks absolutely enthralled to have Mike join their little sit in...

Mike asks the suspect why he broke his employee's legs with an iron bar. "You're not dumb..." "You sure?" Malcolm quips dryly after the man has already repeatedly racially abused him. Mike says he's going to visit the victim in the hospital and get his statement so if it were him he'd want to make sure he got his in first. The suspect refuses to speak - other than to further insult Malcolm.

The singing suspect continues to sing inside the prison van, only to stop and start chattering away to everyone straight after. He's now Pete's new best mate! 🤣🤣

Tosh gets dispatched to visit a church to investigate what might be happening late at night in their churchyard. Given they mention that vodka and condoms are involved I think we can all guess! However, I did enjoy "Things that go bonk in the night!" from Tosh.

Dashers tries to speak to his suspect again but all he will say is that the landlord of the pub who found the victim likely left a crate out that the victim fell over. He then racially insults Malcolm yet again and Dashers still hasn't told him to STFU for it. He's only snapped at him for 'messing him around'.

Bomb disposal (SO13) arrives to chaos as the blonde 18-year-old who attacked her mother makes a run for it from Viv. Luckily Ted's arrival means he can open his car door just in time to trap her between it, Viv and Yorkie. He has a point though when he asks why she isn't handcuffed if she's a prisoner!

Mike starts to wind up his suspect by asking if the victim was knocking his missus off. They're stuck in the back of the car in a confined place. Mike snarks that he's smarter than his suspect will ever be. I doubt that somehow. (I am really starting to dislike Mike this last series which is a shame as I didn't before)

Mike learns why it's not clever to wind up criminals when you're boxed in in close proximity to them. And poor Malcolm earns himself yet ANOTHER racial insult when he saves Mike. And Mike still doesn't say a word about it!

Alec loses his temper over Frank getting Dashers to interview a suspect in the back of the car and tells him to go off to court "In short jerky movements." Frank goes back for him and tells him to watch himself and Bob cuts in and tells him to watch himself and that he's pushed it by letting Mike in with the suspect. Frank snaps that it's his (Bob's) lot that has caused the problems as in the evacuation and also cuffing his suspect to Malcolm as he says the suspect will never talk handcuffed to a black officer.

Derek confirms that it is a bomb and that SO13 is diffusing it. Christine spots Taffy has snuck back into the station to search Reg's room and orders him to get to her office at 2pm.

Unfortunately in diffusing the bomb, it explodes right in front of Bob and Derek. The SO13 man is rushed to the hospital after Bob has put the fire out (his suit is engulfed in it)

Pete tells Yorkie it wasn't down to him and not to blame himself. Yorkie claims it is his fault and Malcolm points out that they'll be looking to blame it on someone. June points out that it can go to the federation with Reg if they press it. Bob joins them in the pub and tells the gathered officers that the SO13 officer is likely going to be blinded. Yorkie hangs his head with guilt.

[shroomoth]

what press blackout??? it happened a week ago and every local news station was covering it 24/7 during that time??? like actually what fucking press blackout

Okay, let me define what a press blackout is for you since you apparently don’t get it! A press blackout is defined as, “The censorship of a certain topic in the media (usually by a political figure or other powerful person/people) for whatever reason.” (Just paraphrasing here but feel free to look it up.) Though now with social media being so wide spread, you can’t exactly do a TOTAL press blackout, because everyone would know that you’re deliberately not telling them about this big thing that happened. So, what the media does now is they still report on these big things, but they also don’t exactly tell you everything. (They might also deliberately tell you something that’s false but that’s let’s not get into that.) Anyone who has looked at more than the headlines of news articles, checked their sources, been on social media, or, you know, has been following what has happened AT ALL can see that the authorities aren’t telling the truth. Have you noticed that all the pictures are from drones or were taken from miles away? That’s because evacuated residents have said on social media that any reporters that get too close to the wreckage get beaten and arrested. :) Have you noticed that any authorities that comment will say that, “Everything’s perfectly fine and will go back to normal shortly,” or, “The environmental readings we’ve taken have been fine!” When ALL evidence points in the opposite direction? We live in a country of fascists run by big corporations, so use that one brain cell of yours and maybe think for yourself.

[chrysocomae]

Russian Troops Executed One of Their Own for Helping Ukrainian Civilians—Then Covered It Up, Report Says

Russian troops executed one of their own men in Kharkiv after the Feb. 24 invasion and then concealed his identity so they could use him in an elaborate propaganda ploy.

That’s according to a report released Wednesday by the independent news outlet Verstka, which tracked down the identity of the young soldier nearly six months after his death in the Kharkiv region.

Ivan Levankov was killed on the first day of Russia’s full-scale war against Ukraine, as reports of Russian troops targeting civilians began to trickle out. And his death at the time was no secret—it was captured practically in real time by a Ukrainian woman named Karolina Perlifon who posted footage from the dramatic scene on Instagram.

“The Russians killed my mother!” Perlifon wrote in the viral post, alongside gut-wrenching footage of herself recounting how Russian forces had opened fire on her and her mother as they tried to flee the invading troops.

In the midst of the chaos, she wrote, two young Russian troops “who were barely holding their weapons” had rushed towards them, and one of them threw her to the ground to shield her from heavy artillery fire, yelling, “Don’t shoot… we’re your [guys].”

That soldier was immediately shot dead and collapsed on top of her, she said.

Russian propaganda went into overdrive with claims a Russian soldier had “heroically” been killed by Ukrainian “Nazis” as he shielded two civilians from artillery fire. The story was a win for the Kremlin’s narrative that Russian troops were on a humanitarian mission, and it spread like wildfire in Russian media.

But the identity of the soldier was always omitted, and he quickly became known only as “the unknown soldier” in pro-Kremlin accounts of that day.

And according to Perlifon, the secrecy surrounding his identity had only one goal: to keep the public from ever finding out he was killed by his own men for helping Ukrainians.

“He died saving us,” Perlifon was quoted telling Verstka. “That soldier was with us, and he was shot dead by his own people.”

The Russian soldier who’d been with Levankov at the time of his death, Valery Vasilyev, was wounded that day and treated at a Ukrainian hospital. Footage released by Ukraine’s Security Service later showed him identifying Levankov for the first time as he testified that they had been ordered by their commanders to block roads out of Kharkiv and fire at civilians as they tried to evacuate.

But when they spotted Perlifon and her mother, they tried to help get them to safety, he said, and “the lieutenant colonel noticed that we were saving civilians, and he gave the order to shoot us and them.”

It was not immediately clear if Vasilyev is still in Ukrainian custody, as a list of Russian prisoners published by Ukrainian authorities was no longer available.

According to Verstka, Levankov wasn’t laid to rest until late June, when a regional newspaper in his hometown in Russia’s Smolensk region announced his funeral on social media with no details about the circumstances of his death. Wreaths from Russia’s Defense Ministry were laid at his gravesite, where his date of death was listed as Feb. 24.

But while local authorities and religious figures have made a show of publicizing and attending the funerals of other Russian troops from the area killed in Ukraine, Verstka reports that Levankov’s burial was bizarrely kept secret. Local lawmakers and religious authorities from the small town where he’d grown up knew nothing about it, and the deputy governor said his name wasn’t listed in the region’s list of military deaths, even though he had featured so prominently in pro-Kremlin propaganda.

For Perlifon, it makes perfect sense for Russian authorities to erase Levankov from public memory, because, as she told Verstka, for them “it’s easier to simply bury him, and let no one know about him or remember him. To tell the truth? They will never in their lives tell the truth.”

- Source.

[redrobin-detective]

the only ghost in Amity Park

Continuation of Half Of

______________________________________________

Only in Amity Park did the revelation that a local teenager was sorta, kinda a ghost just blow over in a few days. Sure, people still stared at Danny Fenton as he walked by and everyone was still wondering what exactly he was, but overall life had moved on. Star sighed to herself as she organized her notebooks, waiting for class to begin. Just another day.

Star herself really didn’t want to get involved in whatever was going on with Danny. She didn’t like him before he was a celebrity and didn’t plan on starting anytime soon. While Paulina still relentlessly, and vainly, pumped him for information on her dead boy crush, Phantom and he and Dash formed some weird macho bond or whatever, Star avoided him. He’d given her the chills since the day he’d walked into Casper High. When Danny’s secret had been exposed mid-attack, Star hadn’t been surprised. She didn’t need some ghost to tell her that there was something deeply, unsettlingly wrong with Danny Fenton.

Danny didn’t seem particular bothered, by his inhuman nature or by suddenly having his secret exposed. If anything, the nerd looked more relaxed than ever. Star had been watching him, they all had, but Fenton kept his ghostly antics to a minimum when in public. The occasional flash of green eyes when emotional, a grin of sharpened teeth. He made Mikey’s locker lock intangible the other day when the kid had forgotten his combination and he floated down the stairs instead of walking sometimes. It had been a week and it was  frightening how quickly such strangeness had become almost normal. 

“Alright kids, phones and notes away we’re starting class with a pop quiz. Hope you’ve all kept up with your weekly readings,” Faluca announced cheerily. The whole class, including Fenton, moaned and packed up their bags. Star supposed being an undead being haunting his own life didn’t make him immune from normal human problems. She was biting her lip trying to remember which antibody caused allergic reactions when she got an uneasy feeling. She looked up and was not surprised to see Danny Fenton looking around too. It had been a solid week without ghost attacks, looks like Fenton’s supposed vacation time was up.

Star stopped her writing and adjusted the bag at her feet to prep for evacuation. She briefly wondered what Fenton would do, what he could do? Did he also hunt ghosts, like his parents? Like Phantom? There were no blasts, no screams, no monologues but the dread increased when a ghost shield descended over them. Actually, it looked like it was just covering their classroom. Now everyone was looking up from their quizzes and out the window at the flickering, green shield.

“You’d think the administration would’ve warned me we were going to do a drill,” Faluca said but his voice was hesitant. Clearly this wasn’t planned so despite the lack of alarms, there was a good chance this was real. “Pencils down for the moment while I figure out what’s going on.”

“Mr. Faluca, I need to go,” Danny said, raising his hand. Star was so used to hearing the request she almost ignored him but the dread curling in her stomach made her look again. His face was pinched, sharp and his eyes burned with an icy fury like a sudden storm blowing in without warning. 

“Mr. Fenton, I don’t think...” Faluca murmured uneasily. Danny frowned harder.

“It wasn’t a request, actually,” Danny said roughly as he stood up and began walking towards the door. He was almost there when the door slammed open and Fenton had no less than 3 ectoweapons pointed in his face. A few kids jumped back in alarm but Danny held his ground as half a dozen Guys in White agents entered the room and surrounded him.

“Spectral scum formerly known as Daniel Fenton, you’re coming with us,” one of the agents said. 

“Danny not Daniel and it’s still my name,” Danny quipped, eyeing each of the government officials and their weapons. “And no, I’m not. I’m still alive, somewhat anyway, so I have rights. The courts backed me up.”

“Everyone who signed for your freedom doesn’t know ghosts like we do,” Another agent said so forcefully, some spittle flew out of their mouth and hit Danny’s cheek. Star watched it freeze and fall away the instant it hit his skin. “Your kind are too dangerous to wander around, you need to be contained and eliminated. Don’t worry, your parents will receive a sizable check as recompense.”

“I’m the one who needs to be contained?” Danny said slowly, evenly but there was a static to his voice that caused the hairs on the back of Star’s neck to rise. When she breathed out, she saw her breath was misting. Everyone’s was as the room temperature continued to plummet. “When you come in here and take hostages to threaten me?” Danny hissed, he took a step forward and his eyes took on a neon green glow. “You didn’t come to my home or on the streets, you came to take me in the middle of biology when I’m surrounded by civilians, kids.”

“You delude yourself into thinking you’re still human,” another agent scoffed. “Everyone knows ghosts are weaker when giving into their obsession.” Danny laughed, it was loud and mocking and like fingernails running down a chalkboard. Faluca, stuck in between Danny and the agents, was white as a sheet and gripping his desk like it was the only thing keeping him from collapsing.

“You know nothing,” Danny hissed, his voice barely recognizable as human. His hair and shirt floated in an invisible but angry breeze. Frost crawled up his arms and his face. Various ecto alarms were ringing on the belts of the agents and they started to look a bit nervous. He looked nothing like the kid who, minutes before, had clearly been struggling with their bio quiz. “You have no idea what you’re dealing with. You cannot come into my haunt and threaten my people to get to me. Protecting what is mine will always make me stronger!” 

“This whole town is constantly under attack because of things like you!” One particularly brave agent said even as a few others had backed up. “Amity Park is on the verge of collapse because of all the ghosts!”

“There is only one ghost in Amity Park,” Danny said, he tilted his head, his black and white hair dangling in his face as he gave a sharpened smile. “There is only me and the ghosts I allow, ghosts who know the rules, who respect my authority here by keeping damage to people and property down. I am the only ghost haunting this town and why do you think that is?” One agent threw down his gun and ran through the open door.

“You’re-you’re a monster!” Another woman shouted, shaking as she stepped back before fleeing.

“I’m not the one who needs to threaten innocents to get to their target,” Danny sneered. “It’s a good thing you did though, I wouldn’t hold back if I wasn’t worried about collateral.” Another three agents turned tail and ran. Until there was only one left. His gun was still trained on Danny but his hands were shaking. 

“You don’t scare us,” the agent trembled through the obvious lie having been abandoned by his comrades. “We’ll get you monster, if it’s the last thing we do.”

“Looking forward to it,” Danny drawled sarcastically as some of his horrifying aura dissipated along with the freezing grip on the room. Within moments Danny has settled back into more human form. While he’d been angry before, now he looked almost bored. At no point had he seemed afraid. 

“You take your people and your equipment and you leave Amity’s borders by sunset tonight,” Danny declared resolutely. “If you have continued problems with my existence, you take it up with the courts. We settle this as humans but if you treat me as a ghost then I will fight back like one.” His eyes turned green again as a threat. As a promise. 

“I don’t take orders from spooks!” The agent shouted, securing his finger on the trigger and preparing to fire. Star had ducked to avoid the blast so she missed exactly what happened. All she saw was the green glow and heard a strangled scream from the agent followed by a series of thumps. By the time Star had gotten back into her seat, Danny was aggressively pulling apart the ectogun with his bare hands. There was no sign of the agent and, around them, the ghost shield fizzled away. 

“Jerks,” Danny grumbled, kicking at the remains of the ectogun he’d destroyed. “Sorry about that, Mr. Faluca. I knew they’d cause problems but I didn’t think they’d come to school.” Their teacher stared at Danny like a rabbit facing down a lion. “You okay?”

“Fine, Mr. Fenton, just fine!” Falcua grinned in a high pitched voice. “Shall we get back to our quizzes?” The bell rang just then and Danny did a little fist pump.

“Tomorrow then? After I get a chance to study more?” Danny asked with puppy dog eyes. It looked wrong on his face that had just threatened the government with bodily harm. Faluca just nodded dumbly, not sure what else to say. “Yes! I’ll pass tomorrow for sure. The attention kinda sucks but it does come with some perks.”

He walked back to his desk, ignoring the wide-eyed looks of the class when he stopped and gasped, his breath fogging in front of him. His lips pursed again with annoyance. A few people jumped in surprise as the Box Ghost, a familiar annoyance, poked his head through the wall.

“Child! Your requested reprieve is up and the Box Ghost is here to cause insurmountable square shenanigans!” He laughed heartily, stopping when the room temperature dropped again. Danny didn’t even turn to face the ghost. 

“Your watch is off, Boxy. I have another 10 hours before I have to deal with you annoyances again,” Danny growled. “I’m feeling good right now, take advantage of it and leave in one piece.”

“Uh right okay then,” the ghost stammered, sinking back into the wall. “See you tomorrow.” Danny cracked his neck before he walked to his desk, grabbed his things and walked to the front of the room.

“Late bell’s gonna ring any minute, you guys should hurry if you don’t wanna be late,” Danny said as he left. Falcua’s strength gave out as soon as Fenton was gone and he hit the floor, one hand clutching at his chest.

“Jeepers,” Mikey surmised appropriately before stuffing his things in his bag and leaving as well. Star watched everyone loosen up themselves and begin gathering their things to leave. No, she would never like Danny Fenton but he and his ghost weirdness was just part of the deal now, whether they wanted it or not. Such was life in the most haunted city in America which was only haunted by a single ghostly entity.

[fatehbaz]

“thanks for hosting our military experiments and colonization project. we need your compliance again for newer geopolitical goals. won’t say ‘sorry’ though, because we didn’t do anything that bad” :) :) :)

Aldebaran, the very first bomb detonated on 2 July 1966 above Moruroa, had its radioactive cloud pushed all the way to Mangareva, prompting the evacuation of the French Overseas Minister while locals remained in the dark. [...]

“We had to wait inside the shelters until the rain passed,” says Daniel, a local farmer from Mangareva, one of the French Polynesian islands in the Gambier Archipelago, 1,500 kilometres south-east of Tahiti.

He describes the drill carried out by French military officers for the island’s 500 residents on 24 August 1968, the day Canopus – a thermonuclear device 150 times stronger than those that destroyed Hiroshima and Nagasaki in August 1945 – went off 400km away. This was neither the first nor the last time islanders would seek shelter when it rained. Between 1966 and 1996, France conducted 193 nuclear tests in what was then the Overseas Territory of French Polynesia. Forty-six tests were carried out in the atmosphere, the blasts producing radioactive clouds that floated with the winds [...].

Over 40 years later, a report by Observatoire des armements, showed previously classified documents featuring records by technicians from the Service Mixte de Controle Biologique (SMBC) – a body created by the CEA to collect and analyse biological samples during and after explosions – in which the amounts of radiation found in unwashed salad four days after Aldebaran were 666 times the regular amount. Drinking water presented six times more radioactive activity than usual, while the examined soil carried 50 times more radiation than normal.

Almost three months later, a survey indicated that the levels of radioactivity found in the rain in Mangareva to be an astonishing 11 million times higher than expected.

Despite having such information at hand, the CEP carried on with the nuclear tests until President Jacques Chirac permanently ceased all experiments in February 1996. [...]

After years of fighting for recognition in the face of staunch denials of responsibility from the French state, Polynesians finally experienced a flicker of hope in 2010, when the French government implemented a law to provide compensation for the victims of French nuclear testing in Polynesia. However, in many ways, the Morin Law has created more controversy than it has proper restitution. According to the Comité d’indemnisation des victimes des essais nucléaires (the Committee for the Compensation of Nuclear Test Victims, or CIVEN), of the 1245 cases registered since the committee’s establishment, only 147 have come from the Polynesian population. So far, only 11 cases have been approved for compensation. [...] Despite ongoing efforts by Polynesian authorities to access documents, France still keeps most of them classified [...]. Even to this day, all information about exposure levels is protected by the French military. [...] [M]any cases in Polynesia remained unreported for a long time and until 2009, most cancer patients were evacuated either to New Zealand of France for radiation therapy. [...]

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

Text excerpt from: Kim Feldman. “Beyond radioactivity: how French nuclear tests changed Polynesia forever.” Equal Times. 15 October 2018. [Emphasis mine.]