#and god I do /not/ have the steadiest hands in the fucking world either so I'm glad that came out even half as well as it did

[sword-and-lance]

BEHOLD

I went on ahead and made a Blue custom Zoid :D First ever (almost) all-over paint job I've attempted like this

...really do need to go back through and touch up some paint overruns I have, mind you, so he's not 100% complete (just more like 99%), but

here is The Boy anyway

considering he "canonically" looks like this (thank you Saintgale for the art):

I think I did not half-bad here lmao

[shadowsndaisies]

Chocolate

a/n: cute lil idea that came to mind :) enjoy!                                 masterlist

It was storming in Gotham and nobody, not even the Joker, was crazy enough to be out tonight. Bruce had called right before the power went out telling us to keep indoors tonight. I had been at Jason’s all day helping him with some spring cleaning and decided to spend the night, knowing I’d have to walk through the storm to get home. We lit candles and turned on a few lanterns throughout the apartment and were chilling on his couch. His laptop was open on the coffee table and playing a movie we found in his DVD’s.

“Do you know why I love chocolate?” I asked Jason suddenly, my foot lightly nudging his side as we sat on opposite ends. We were currently in the process of consuming anything in his fridge that could melt or go bad.

“Because it’s sweet?” he guessed, his eyes still trained on the screen.

“Well, obviously, but it’s more than that,” I begin, moving to sit up. I reached over to the computer and hit the space button to pause the movie, gaining his full attention. “There are so many different kinds of chocolate and just about all of them are amazing. Chocolate is like the steadiest part of my life that’s also too good and too established to change. It’s here when I’m celebrating when I need a pick me up, or when I’m moody, it’s basically my safety net…” I trail now staring at the small square in my hand.

It’s silent for a moment as Jay takes in everything I’ve said and then he starts to laugh, cackle, really.

“Laugh all you want Todd,” I call out. “Chocolate’s my best friend,” I smirk as he shuts up.

“Sorry doll, but that’s my job,” he huffed a small pout on his lips.

“Not anymore,” I smiled taking the last bite of the delectable treat in my hand. “Chocolate doesn’t laugh at me.”

Suddenly his hands are around me and his fingers are digging into my sides. He had launched himself over the middle of the couch to be on top of me as he tickled me, causing me to lay down and squirm against his hold. Despite trying my best not to laugh, the giggles begin to spill from my lips on their own accord.

“St….sto….Stop! Stop! Jay! Please!” I wheezed out between laughs as his fingers refused to let up on their torturous ways.

“Not until you take it back, and say out loud that I Jason Peter Todd am a better best friend than chocolate can ever hope to be,” he stated with a dramatic flair to his tone as I continued to gasp for air in between my fits of laughter.

My sides now had that dull pain to them as my abdomen continued to spasm as Jay was still tickling me. “Ok!” I huffed out. “I’ll say it, just stop!” I begged.

“Gotta say it first doll,” he smirked, still above me.

“You’re better!” I squeaked. “You’re my best friend!” I panted as he slowly ended his attack, his hands still pressed against my waist, waiting for me to either finish his request or continue tickling me if I refuse to give in. “You’re a better best friend than chocolate. Jay...” I sighed as I caught my breath.

My eyes shut as I tried to get my breathing back to normal, when it had evened out enough they fluttered open and met Jason’s blue orbs. His hands were still around my waist and he was still basically atop of me as he looked at me.

“Oh god, you’re the worst,” I huffed, pushing him back to his side of the couch as I sat up, my sides still sore.

“Correction, I’m your best friend,” He winked settling comfortably on his side.

“Whatever helps you sleep at night Todd,” I smirked.

He moved towards me once again but this time to dodge him I tumbled, ungracefully, to the floor beside the couch, landing with a thud.

“Are you okay?” he laughed, he was now spread out on the couch, looking down at me.

“Lovely,” I groaned and my skin prickled with goosebumps from the cold.

While in my blanket burrito I was surrounded by warmth, plus the warmth that Jay provides all on his own, here, on the cold hardwood floors of his apartment with no power to fuel the heater, I was already freezing. Bringing my hands to support me I wobbled into a point where I was able to use them to stabilize myself as I stood up. I took the few steps that put me back on the couch and slipped into blankets beside Jason. He opened his arm to envelop me which I was thankful for.

“The fuck?” he asked softly. “You were out for like 20 seconds how’re you this cold?” his voice was shocked as my skin came in contact with his, his arm that wrapped around me pulled me even closer.

“I freeze easy,” I mutter, snuggling back into him.

“Understatement of the year,” he laughed, still holding me tight.

A smile danced on my lips as we slowly fell asleep to the sound of the rain hitting the outside.

I felt warm and content as somebody began shaking me, cracking my eyes open slightly I notice I turned while I slept last night because now I was face to face with Jason’s chest. He was the one who was shaking me slightly.

“Morning, doll,” He whispered and my cheeks burned due to our proximity. “Sorry to wake you, but uh I’ve really gotta use the can…” he trailed and I realized how I was laying partially atop of him.

“Sorry, Jay,” I hummed sitting up slightly, wobbling on the end.

“Careful, don’t want you falling again,” he laughed holding onto my hips.

“C’mon you know gravity and I have a complicated relationship,” I joke standing up.

“Better than most,” he admitted standing and walking towards his bathroom, stretching as he went, and from here I could see how his back flexed as he stretched and my cheeks burned a bit brighter as I realized I was admiring a bit more than a friend should.

Shaking my head I walk to the kitchen and check the lights, they flicker on and I smiled at the simplicity of knowing the lights were once again working. I made myself a glass of water and as I walked back towards the couch the door was being knocked on. Setting the cup down I rushed to the door and opened it. In front of me was Dick, Tim, and Damian, they all had raised eyebrows at seeing me.

“G’morning boys,” I smile moving aside so they can all enter.

“Hey,” Dick hugged me coming in.

“I was about to cook some breakfast, you guys hungry?” I asked walking back to the kitchen.

“Always,” Tim smiled heading for Jay’s coffee machine.

“Doesn’t that t-shirt belong to Todd?” Damian asked suddenly and I nearly dropped the carton of eggs I pulled from the cooler that Jay had set up for perishables last night.

“Yes it does,” Jason called walking back into the room and spotting his brothers, also saving me from embarrassing myself anymore.

“I got this if you want to shower,” he said grabbing the eggs from me.

“M’kay,” I hummed walking off, ruffling Damian styled hair as I went, receiving a “tt” in response.

I walked into Jay’s room and opened the bottom drawer, pulling clothes that I’d left on numerous occasions. Before heading into the bathroom. I was in no rush but nor did I dilly dally as I went, I used Jay’s shampoo and then my conditioner, another item I had long since brought but Jay seemed to be the one who’d restock on it every now and again. As the shower shut off I could hear the boys in the kitchen.

“-she practically lives here!” you heard Dick argue.

“And?” Jay asked as if expecting more from his brother.

You paused, you knew they were talking about you. What other female lived in Jay’s apartment more than you did, nobody. Still, you held your breath curious about what they were discussing and how it concerned you, it probably wasn’t smart. To eavesdrop on them but then again you knew they were talking about you.

“And?” Tim questioned back. “And what? She’s just your best friend?” he mocked.

There it was, the topic was your relationship to Jay, it’s been something everybody’s been pushing. And there was something there, after years of being best friends after dealing with his death and then his return from the grave nobody in the world could compare in your heart to Jason Peter Todd.

“Don’t mock me, kid. And drop it okay, (y/n) and I, whatever we are. Best friends or something else it’s up to us. Me and her, everybody else can back the fuck off,” his voice was tense as if this were a reoccurring thing.

Babs, Steph, and Cass had all prodded me earlier this week asking about our relationship and now I could see his brothers were doing just as his sisters had with me. Shaking my head I ran a hand through my damp hair as I exited the room and walked back to the boys.

Breakfast was basic, Dick had come over, more to check on us than anything else. Both of Jason and mines phones had died last night and we had been unable to charge them. He had also been the one to drag Tim and Damian along. After we ate we lounged around his apartment. I talked animals with Damian, and a bit of politics and news with Tim as Dick and Jason sat at the kitchen island discussing something. Every now and again my eyes would flick to Jason, about an hour later Jason made eye contact with me and I sent him a small lazy lopsided smile, one that he returned.

His brothers left a bit after that and I began getting my stuff together, I had an evening event for work tonight that I had to go get ready for.

“Hey, where you going?” Jason asked as I picked my bag up around 3 in the afternoon.

“Home, I have a work thing later on,” I told him grabbing my jacket.

“What thing?”

“Some charity gala, I’m positive Bruce’ll be there,” I smile.

“Oh…” was all he said.

“See ya later Todd,” I bid him as he hugged me before I left.

A few hours later I was all decked out, a stunning (f/c) dress was wrapped around my figure paired with matching heels. My makeup was minimal as I so preferred it to be, my hair fell in big loose curls in a high ponytail with a few loose, face-framing curls. Stepping out of my car I flattened out my dress and gave myself a once over in the camera of my phone before slipping it in my clutch and heading to the elevator. Using my FOB I got up to the top and started doing some last minute touch-ups. Soon enough guests started to fill in and then the ballroom was packed. People were schmoozing other people out of checks and donations. I spotted Mr. Wayne early on but only was able to send him a smile and a wave before another cluster of people surrounded him.

Eventually, people had drifted apart and I was left alone, collapsing back at my table my hand went down to rub my ankles. The shoes I had chosen, while pretty, I was beginning to regret as my feet began to ache into pain.

“You know you could ditch the heels, doll,” A voice said sitting down beside me and a smile played on my lips, he was the only one who ever called me that.

“You know what they say, Jay. Beauty is pain and shit,” I laugh humorlessly while glaring at the shoes. “I thought you hated galas?” I ask looking back up to him.

“I do, especially when all the rats climb out of the sewer to slick back their hair with oil and try to schmooze money from each other with lies,” Jason's eyes narrowed as he scanned the crowd.

“Gee, thanks. It’s not like I spent months putting this together,” I sighed, slouching into my chair.

“But…” he trailed, gaining my attention once more. “I like you more than I hate these things,” he winked.

A smile came to my lips at this, bad boy Jason “I came back from hell” Todd came to gala because he liked me more. “So how long till you duck out and leave?” I smirk knowing he won't last long.

“Depends, how much of this shit do you still have to do?” he countered.

“I think I’m actually done, at least, until somebody calls for me to fix whatever crap they messed up,” I puffed, blowing one of the big curls out of my face.

“You’re done?” he repeated.

“Basically,” I smiled.

“Go on a date with me,” he said.

It wasn’t a question and it didn’t have to be, not at this point. At this point, the only ones who weren’t aware that Jay and I whatever we may be were more than friends, was Jay and me.

“Just like that?”

“What more do you need. I got you and you got me. Let’s go, right now. We can get some dinner and head back to my place for movie night, maybe dessert,” his eyebrows wiggled at the end and a loud laugh slipped passed my lips.

“Have you no shame, Mr. Todd?” I smiled.

“Not with you, doll,” he winked.

“Okay,” I nodded. “Let’s go.”

He stood up first and offered me his arm as we slowly slipped from the center of the room towards an exit.

“(Y/n)!” I heard someone shout and Jason stared at me as I stared into the crowd.

“Run,” I whispered pushing him, hastily, towards the exit.

“Woah, Woah, Woah. Wait, doll. You plus running in heels will only end badly,” he said stopping me.

One hand came up to his shoulder as the other slipped to my ankle and pulled the tie loose. Quickly I undid the other and as I let go of Jay I heard my name once more.

“Run,” He agreed to grab my hand and pulling me along.

We weaved through the remaining crowds before we got to the door. As we went through Bruce made eye contact with us before raising an eyebrow. My name was shouted once more and Bruce sent me “go,” as he stepped towards the source. I felt like a teenager all over again as Jay and I ran, we were a laughing mess as we stumbled into the elevator.

Catching our breath we faced each other Jay’s hand was still firmly grasping mine. Looking up into his eyes I found him staring at me. “Is this for real?” I asked watching him carefully.

“You and I have always been real, (y/n),” he muttered as a thumb brushed against my cheekbone.

“Is this date for real?” I restated.

“Yeah…” he whispered. “Yeah, it is.”

A smile broke my lips as the elevator dinged. We stepped out and I saw Jason’s bike, “Oh hell no,” I said stopping him.

“C’mon you’ve ridden on my bike before,” he teased.

“Not in an expensive dress,” I counter.

“I’ll pay for your dry cleaning,” he winked sitting down on the bike.

My teeth sunk into my bottom lip before I felt myself give in and get on behind him. He handed me his helmet and my arms wrapped around his torso, holding tight onto the edge of his tuxedo jacket. He didn’t have to ask and I didn’t have to offer where to go, we went where we always go. Maeve’s Dinner on 4th avenue, Miss M was the nicest lady you’d ever meet and her husband Joe was just as wonderful. Jay and I had stumbled into their dinner years ago when trying our best to avoid the rain that had suddenly started dumping.

Jason pulled up into a parking spot and together we walked in, the small bell ringing as Jay opened the door for me.

“I’ll be with-” Miss M began before catching sight of us. “Oh, you two, go ‘head your tables open,” she waved at us.

“Our table,” I mused aloud.

“Honestly, nobody eats here as much as we do. And we only ever eat right here, in this booth,” he smirked sliding across from me.

“True,” I laughed.

A few minutes later Miss M came by and gave Jay a beer and me an iced tea, the same thing we always ordered.

“Thank you, Miss M,” I smiled up to the kind old lady.

“Anything for you two sugars, I sent your orders in already, anything else?” she asked and Jay and I shared a look. We both had made our way through the entire menu together before deciding on what we like the best, it soon became our “usual”.

“Nah, I think we’re good,” Jay answered.

“Alrighty,” she laughed before walking off.

I turned back to Jason and saw he was once again staring at me, I could only stare back.

“(Y/n), you know I wasn’t trying to be demanding when I-” he began as if he owed me an explanation, but I cut him off.

I leaned across the table moving our drinks out of the way before grabbing his tie and pulling him closer.

“Just kiss me,” I whispered as we got close enough, and he did.

After everything the two of us had been through, after years of being in love with each other and years of simply being there, this was the only step left for us to take.

However, off by the kitchen counter, the two didn’t know but Joe and Maeve had watched the interaction, had seen the kiss.

“Lord at last,” Joe laughed, shaking his head.

“Hush, now baby. Let the sugars enjoy their moment,” She smiled at her husband. “And make ‘em a milkshake on the house.”

“Yes ma’am, what flavor?” he asked tapping the counter.

“For those two,” she began looking at the two twenty-something-year-olds. “Only chocolate would suffice.”

[themyskira]

Wonder Woman #32

i hate this comic so much i hate everything hatehatehahtehahtehtahtehate

Previously: Because Geoff Johns hates us, Diana has a secret twin brother and Darkseid has a sexy evil half-Amazon daughter called Grail. Grail is now murdering demigods and feeding their tasty life essence to Darkseid, who is a baby (Johns again). Grail has just murdered Hercules. Hercules’ lawyer, Hercule Poirot, has informed Diana that she is heir to his estate.

ah for fuck’s sake we’re one page in and already we’ve been saddled with the fucking Oddfellows, aka the shitty expies of Sameer, Charlie and the Chief from the Wonder Woman movie.

For those sensible enough not to read Tim Seeley’s Wonder Woman: Steve Trevor oneshot, the Oddfellows are a team of… mercenaries? I guess? …who do off-the-books work for ARGUS. Because Tim Seeley forgot that Rebirth Steve doesn’t work for ARGUS, I guess.

Sameer isn’t so bad -- he’s a former Moroccan intelligence agent who “speaks twenty-four languages and [is] a con man in every single one”. A reasocnable modernisation of Sameer from the movie.

Charlie is essentially the same as his movie counterpart — an ex-sniper who is, and I quote, the “steadiest hand in the business unless he’s having a panic attack, which is often, or not drinking, which isn’t”.  This worked in the context of the movie, where in the midst of a world war Steve had to assemble a team quickly and completely off the books, and where the character served to illustrate to both Diana and the audience the terrible trauma of war. It makes zero fucking sense in the context of a private contractor working for a clandestine government agency, because what worldly motivation would ARGUS have to hand dangerous and sensitive missions to a man with debilitating PTSD and alcoholism?

And the Chief? The Chief is just fucking bananas.  He’s a former Shadow Wolves operative who used his skills to help refugees and illegal immigrants past the border before he was caught, and joined ARGUS to commute his sentence, which is fine. Except… he’s also creepily into explosives? And he’s an amateur jewellery designer who makes truly hideous accessories? Which also explode? A fact which we (and Steve) discover only after the Oddfellows find themselves cornered, and the Chief tells Steve to shoot the gross necklace he gave him, and after the smoke clears, Steve is like, “is everything you’ve ever given me a potential bomb?” and the Chief answers, completely seriously, “Of course. Why make things that don’t explode? Boring.”

w h a t t h e f u c k.

But anyway, we’re talking about this shitty comic.

The Oddfellows are storming the Paris Catacombs, where I guess Diana is fighting Parademons? Don’t know when that happened; the last thing I remember Hercule Poirot was informing Diana that she was heir to Hercules’ estate. I actually just had to check back to the previous issue to make sure I wasn’t missing anything.

Charlie is drunk, of course. Alcoholism is hilarious, guys.

Steve and the bloke on his radio exposition back and forth about how the Oddfellows are here as Diana’s escorts, and Diana flew on ahead to fight Parademons. “Why?” asks the bloke on the radio.

Steve: “Dumb question. There was a battle awaiting her… and she’s a warrior.” urgh. fuuuuuuuck offffffff.

The gents catch up with Diana, and Charlie storms in singing The Bonnie Banks o’ Loch Lomond because we’re going full drunk Scottish stereotype here.

I need to talk about this terrible dialogue, because who the fuck speaks like this while they’re locked in a rapid-pace sword fight with multiple flying monsterbeings?

“I admit it isn’t easy fighting Darkseid’s Parademons in such a confined space, Steve.”

Cut to four hours earlier, and Diana and Steve are at ARGUS Central Command. A bloke named Doctor Peril, who’s either unfortunately named or a supervillain-in-waiting, asks Steve how it feels to be working with ARGUS again, because Robinson also didn’t get the memo that Rebirth Steve was never an ARGUS agent. Honest to god, between this and Grail/Jason and the bullshit with Circe in Trinity— what is the point of soft-rebooting Wonder Woman if the changes aren’t communicated to anybody else writing those characters?

Robinson highlights the stupidity of this by having Doctor Peril address Steve as Colonel Trevor, and Steve respond by telling him, “I’m Navy now, so for one thing — if you say my rank, it’s Master Chief.” I don’t know much about the military, so perhaps I’m just ill-informed, but why would a highly-ranked Air Force commissioned officer transfer to the Navy in an enlisted pay grade? That… seems strange and implausible, and probably should have been a sign to Robinson that something wasn’t right.

I also think Robinson’s promoted Steve a few pay grades — prior to this he’s been referred to as “Chief”. If he’s in the Navy, that would make him a Chief Petty Officer (Master Chief is the highest enlisted rank).

ugh, these shitty minutiae keep distracting me from the shitty story. Okay. Doctor Panic or whatever is studying Hercules’ desiccated corpse. Conveniently, the thing that killed him has left an energy marker unique to Apokolips, which ARGUS just happens to have been monitoring religiously since the last time Darkseid attacked. Diana immediately concludes that this is Grail’s work, then explains to us who Grail is because none of us bothered to read Darkseid War.

When you continually feel the need wall-of-text expositioning at your readers about stuff that when down in a different comic, you’re probably not onto a winning story.

(Also, good god this art is ugly.)

Doctor Pitfall interrupts their expositioning to inform them the Hercules wasn’t the first victim and oh fuck me what other Greek demigods has Robinson senselessly murdered as set dressing for this shitty story?

…a lot of them, apparently. He leads Diana and Steve into a curiously large morgue, where fifteen bodies are laid out on tables.

More exposition. Doctor Pissweak tells Diana that Hercules is the only one they’ve ID’d because ARGUS already had intel on him, and the Ancient Greece connection was what led them to Diana. Diana says that she has an appointment with the Poirot-lookalike lawyer. Gosh, it’s so refreshing to finally read a superhero comic where people talk about information management and appointments, this is just the kind of exciting escapism I come to DC for.

Sadly, this thrilling back-and-forth is interrupted, as a man with a distracting pornstache bursts in to declare that more convenient Apokalyptian energy has been detected in Paris. Steve takes Pornstache’s tablet and is able to immediately surmise that, yes, it’s denizens of Apokalips, but no, there’s no victim this time, they’re just shit-stirring. Yes, he can tell this all from the energy signature, obviously.

Back to the present, and we’re subjected to more excruciating flirtatious dialogue between Steve and Diana.

Steve: You know, Angel… a lesser man might feel threatened by how often you pull my fat our of the fire. Diana: Firstly, Steve, you’re not fat. Steve: Figure of speech, Angel, I just meant— Diana: And I’m sure you’ll save my back. You usually do.

Things that irritate me about this:

I get that it’s their thing, that “Angel” has been Steve’s nickname for Diana since the Marston era, but when he uses it in every second sentence, it stops being endearing and just becomes insufferable.

Steve having to explicitly flag that he is not the kind of man who feels threatened by a more powerful woman.

Steve interrupting Diana to explain a very obvious figure of speech.

Diana’s first reaction being to reassure Steve that he’s not fat.

this fucking art what the fuck are these proportions why is her tiara so huge

Anyway, then Charlie pops back into to be obnoxiously Scottish while Diana smashes some Parademons, and then the fight’s over and I still have no idea what it was actually about.

Diana and Steve realise they haven’t expositioned for a few pages, so they pause in the aftermath to remind the reader that Hercules and a bunch of other people are dead, and Grail is involved but they don’t know how or why, and hey, remember back before this ARGUS detour when Diana was talking to that Poirot chappie? The one who told her she’s the heir to Hercules’ estate? Since he has no conceivable connection to Grail or Apokalips, maybe he’ll know what’s going on! I’m pretty sure that makes sense!

Also, editing fail: “I’d be with him now, in fact, if not for ARGUS summons and then this.”

Cut to Oregon, where Diana and Poirot are being driven to Hercules’ house. Poirot sips tea and is posh. Diana is wearing a less attractive version of that one Cliff Chiang coat-with-tiara-as-a-headband ensemble, because this artist has no imagination.

And I know I’ve been snarking about this lawyer bloke being a Hercule Poirot lookalike, but the artists are so heavily photo-referencing David Suchet’s Poirot, it’s actually distracting.

They walk into Hercules’ house. Hercule Point asks Diana what’s wrong, why does she look sad? Of course, it’s an invitation for more exposition, and Diana explains to us that Hercules was her brother because she is a daughter of Zeus, who fathered many powerful demigods.

And just in case you think I’m being a little harsh on Sergio Devila’s artwork:

These are all supposed to be Diana’s face.

Then Poirot gives Diana a letter from Hercules, because if there’s one thing this comic needs at this stage, it’s more exposition.

To summarise: Blah blah you are a wonder. Blah blah shame for my past actions. Blah blah accidental typo because the editors of this book fucking suck. Blah blah self-exile. Blah blah worthy heir. btw, you have a twin brother called Jason who was raised by Glaucus, sucks that you’re finding out this way.

Diana interrupts the letter to explain the plot of Darkseid War some more. She says that she looked for this alleged “brother” but then she got distracted by her life. No, she literally says that.

Hercules concludes his letter by saying he now feels secrets are wrong and that truth is everything. Apparently he didn’t feel it that strongly, because he decided not to tell Diana the truth, and instead left it for her to discover in the very unlikely event that he died. He tells Diana he has left the coordinates of Jason’s location… embroidered in the pelt of the Nemean Lion, because I guess just writing it was too prosaic.

Cut to Diana and Poirot on the Aegean coast, where Diana. AGAIN. EXPOSITIONS ABOUT PREVIOUS COMICS. This has gone beyond a joke who the fuck is editing this comic what the fuck is this FUUUCCKING

…okay. Diana and Poirot make dull small talk, then set about finding Jason. Conveniently, the first local she ask immediately knows who she’s talking about and where he is. He and his crew are out fishing, she says, but they’ll be back this evening.

…ooooor Diana could just fly out to meet him, since after all her time is more important than his and who cares if she interrupts his work day?

OH FOR FUCK’S SAKE

i hate this comic i hate my life

[shinymills]

Plague Ship

Before I lay out my last words, I want to say - I want to say that I know I deserve whats happened. We all do, for more'n a few reasons I guess. We ain't good folk. Poverty, war, famine, it'll change people ... You either learn to strip away morals and survive, or you cling to civilization and you die. Us, we survived. Till now, leastwise.

We had a pretty tidy system worked out, you see? Didn't - didn't work all the time course, not even seventy percent of it, but it worked, enough that it got me and my crew from point A to B with food in our belly, the air in our lungs, and fuel in our ship. All'a the things we needed to survive and thrive.

Whenever supplies would start running low we'd set ourselves up as a ... A, whatcha call them? Angler fish, yeah. We'd send out a nice little signal. Not always the same one though, fast way to have people catching on right there. Stuck close to the Rim when we'd be playing lure - less chance of patrols or some shit answering, playing well-meaning knights when we all fuckin know ... We *all* fuckin know anyone rescued by any of the Corporations ends up shoved into Indentured until their 'debts' is paid up. 

Shit, sorry, rambling. Hard to focus lately. Hard to stay in one line, one... One thought, you know? My head comes and it goes, I guess you could say. My crew - my crew ... They haven't been so lucky as to just - to just be having trouble with thoughts staying in lines, with their minds staying in place. Don't know yet if that means I'm the lucky one, or if ... If my luck was just shittier, cause I get to watch everyone crumble down. 

Fuck... Fuck, fuck, fuck, still rambling. Yeah. Sorry. Where was I? Oh, yeah. Lures. We was low on O2, yeah? And fuel, but O2 was the big concern. Getting anywhere don't matter much if you're fuckin dead, right? Yeah. We'd set up a distress signal to send out a basic S.O.S, powered down the auxiliary functions, and sat back to play the waiting game.

People - People think living on the edge of civilization, the rims of society, nothing but action, danger, and drawn out fights trading blasters shots and witty - witty barbs back and forth. Not so much, yeah? Lot of times, we're just waiting for someone to snap up the lure. Little tense, mostly quiet, but that would make for boring fuckin vids, right? Yeah.

Shit - Fuck, rambling. Sorry. Yeah, anyways, so we sat back and we're there waiting to see who, if anybody, gonna show up. Hours we waited there, quiet, and dark. Me and my men, we was startin’ to think maybe we was gonna have to pull up shop, try another sector or something like, when Haugh calls out all soft like that a ship's come into range.

Not a - not a *second* after he's said that we're getting hailed. Cheers us right the fuck up, cause we was all getting antsy as hell. Course we don't fuckin answer. Just let'em keep hailin away as they pull up alongside us. Isn't long at all before we're feeling the ship rumblin’ and shakin’ as the dock with us. Which is ... See it was odd thinkin’ on now, yeah. Most of'em, they hail longer, yeah. Cautious. Not them. Eager like. Fuckin eager. Should've - should've fuckin’ ... Don't matter. Don't fuckin’ matter anyway.

Me and my crew, meanwhile, we've already gotten into position on either side of the airlock and we're .... and we're - we're fuckin waiting, yeah? The minute the hatch open blasters are drawn and we're fuckin on them. Didn't put up much of a fight. No fight, none, just ... just went down like tissue paper, all four. One had - had a weapon on'em, but the other three just had medical lookin, high shit. Never seen nothin’ like it before.

Me and the crew, we was countin ourselves *so* fuckin lucky as we looked over that shit. Was obvious we'd managed to snag an honest to god Medi Ship. This haul, this *fuckin* haul, we was sure to be set for the next few months. Thought our luck had finally turned for the better. Countin - it was counting chickens before they was hatched. Yeah.

Second we stepped through the airlock we knew shit wasn't right. Remember - remember what I was saying about them blaster fights people always thinkin life on the Rim is like? What it looked like inside that ship. Couldn't see no bodies. Plenty of blood, yeah... no bodies. Should've left right then. Iverson - Iverson, young boy, maybe all of seventeen, wanted to. Only one with the sense he was. Only one with any - with any kinda sense. Was a good kid. Good kid. Didn't - he didn't ... But Haugh went callin’ him a pussy. Got some of the men laughing and, yeah, he quieted down quick enough. Should've listened - should've ... Should've left, but we was low on food, fuel.

We swept through the ship, real thorough like. Weren't sure what the hell happened, didn't want caught in the middle of some kinda mutiny or some shit. Never found any real survivors. Not - not really. Found a few bodies. Some of'em weren't right,  they didn’t look *right*. Less - the less said about that, the better. Few of'em looked like they could've been responsible for the mess outside of the airlock. All of'em wore uniforms, some of'em doctors and nurses ...those ones, they were the worst off. Someone had had a fuckin’ hate-on for them poor bastards. Rest of'em looked like the might've been security. All of'em had Corporate logo stamped on their uniforms.

Should've left right fuckin’ then. Just forgot about the haul and just ... And just tried again somewhere else. But we was fuckin’ desperate, and stupid as shit. Stupid gets you killed out here, every time, stupid gets you killed out here.

Last room we came on was ... It had hospital bed, yeah. Only living thing left in that ship, near as we could tell, and he was dead to the fuckin world. Had a little nametag on his shirt that read Moore. Strapped to the bed, straps across his fuckin stomach, and ankles, wrists, and lookin like he was off playin’ out in the stars. There was charts on the wall, X-rays and shit. Bunch of medical mumbo jumbo. Couldn't make heads or tails of any of it. Haugh put a bullet in his head. Pissed Iverson off ... He was a good kid, good kid. Haugh just said he was dead either way. Weren't wrong. 

We didn't waste time getting everything we needed back our ship. Place was - it was just ... We was fucking stupid. So fuckin’ stupid. Just - should've just left. Fresh air was fucking amazing though, let me tell ya.  And the food we got from them. That fuckin’ food, man. It was - it was just ... Fresh fruit. Iverson, he'd never even fucking seen a fruit that weren't dehydrated first. That boy was damned near cryin’ when he took his first bite of a pear. Juicy, yeah? Crunchy ... With - with the sweet drippin’ juice, and he said it was the best fuckin’ thing, yeah. Best fuckin’ thing. We ate their food, breathed their air, and tried to forget that ship.

Fuck, shit. Sorry. My mind it wants… it doesn't like lines, straight lines so much. Anymore. Moments, sometimes it gets hard to make it stay in the line, it wants to stray, lead away. But I've got to finish what I'm fuckin’ saying. For me. My men. So fuck that.

Week or so on, we're on our way to greener pastures. Love that saying. Ain't nothing green to be seen out in this darkness. Always liked that sayin’ though. S'nice. Yeah. Bigger and better things, maybe. Different, at least. We've done forgot about that Medi Ship, out of sight out of - out of mind. Yeah. 

Two weeks in and Iverson accused Haugh of trying to steal his thoughts, trying to - to worm his way into his mind. Said he only did what he did because Moore told him to. That the only way to keep Haugh out of his head was to go and - and drill straight into the man's fuckin skull. Iverson was - he was a kid, and him ... Him doin’ somethin like this threw us all for a fuckin’ loop. Fucking crazy. 

Sometimes people's just too good, can't handle the things we’ve gotta do to survive. Me - I figured Iverson still ... I figured he was still pissed at Haugh about shooting that Moore guy like he did. Fuckin’ stupid lookin back now, yeah. So, so fucking stupid. Only thing that made sense at the time though. Yeah.

Didn't know… wasn't sure what to do with him. Didn't want to space him. Some of the crew did, yeah. He went and drilled a goddamned hole in a man's head. And my crew… Can't blame them. But he was a good kid, didn't wanna do that. Tied him up, stuffed him in the Med Bay. Figured ... I figured he'd be safe enough there. Just keep him there till we could figure things out.

Two days after that - just, two fucking days, I walked in the Med Bay to find Ricks, our half assed drunk of a doc, tryin' to fillet Iverson. I say tryin’ cause... He ain't never had the steadiest of hands. Always drunk. But he had a surgical saw in hand, and he'd been - he must've been at it for a while, cause ... Cause most of that boy's left leg was gone. He was still alive, but he weren't - he weren't ... Only reason it went on for so long was cause he weren't screaming. When I walked in Iverson was just watchin’ him. He looked so, so fucking calm. Like it was what was supposed to be happenin’. 

Iverson, he didn't last much longer after that. He never screamed though ... He looked so fuckin calm the entire time. So goddamned calm. Ricks ... They asked him why the fuck they did that. He weren't even friends with Haugh. We all thought, everybody thought ... Just figured it was him getting back. Angry, and getting back. Hard. Yeah. But he goes and says that it was on account of Moore tellin’ him that he had to start getting ready for the winter.

I don't know what to fuckin’ do. Crew's wanting to space'em, cause fuckin Christ, he just carved that boy up. And I'm - I’m wanting to, too. I ain't too proud to admit I was fuckin scared ... Confused. Didn't know what…  didn't what to do. And Moore again. Moore. Don't understand it. We space Ricks. Don't even have to drag him, he just - he just walks. Keeps goin’ on about how he's ready for winter, and not to worry on up until Singh shoves him in. It's not a relief seeing him sucked out the airlock. Should've - it should've been. It ain't.

Three days after that, my first mate, Vorster, he, I find him in the armory with Singh. He's got ... Singh is on his back, willing like. Just watching the ceiling, smilin’, and - and Vorster is wrist-deep in the man’s stomach. Got - he's got some of his ... Some of his fuckin insides pulled outside, and somehow, I don't fuckin’ understand it, but Singh is still alive and smilin’, and lookin so fucking happy to be there. Minute I walk in they both look at me. Same time. Just stare. Vorster keeps moving his hands around inside Singh's stomach before pullin’ out this loop of the man's intestines and - and he, Singh - he helps and I can't help it, I throw up. I've seen some shit, but that was... It weren't right. 

Afterwards, I'm questioning Vorster and he's tellin’ me all about how Moore had told him and Singh that he had to help Singh dig some kinda - some kinda sickness out of him. Singh's dead, course. There ain't ... Just ain't no comin' back from that. Ain't. Can't ask him. But he looked so…  he looked so fuckin’ happy, and I don't know what to fucking think. Vorster gets spaced. Shoved out the airlock. 

Keeps happening. One after the other. My crew. My men. They just keep going after each other, mostly like they're - like they're willing like. One or two put up a fight. Damned good fight. Me. Me, I stick to my cabin now. Just ... just stay in my cabin. Some fuckin’ captain I am. Hiding in my own ship like a fuckin’ stowaway. I can hear Davidson, I think it's Davidson, outside my door sometimes. Talkin about fuckin’ Moore. I don't listen though. I don't. Ain't gonna fuckin listen. 

If I do, if I do, got my gun right beside me. Ready to open a new hole in my head. Yeah. I just ... This ain't me seekin’ no kinda forgiveness,  no atonement. Don't regret my life, don't regret - don't regret a damned thing I've ever done, 'cept one. Should've left that fuckin ship. Minute we saw what was in there, should've fuckin left and never looked back. 

And Moore, I tell him that, and he… He says I’m right. We probably should’ve turned right around. Left. But he’s awful glad we stopped.