#and therefore maybe you should put a few of them in storage because you clearly cannot wear them all at once

[fingertipsmp3]

I love when people blame me for problems they created themselves. Like I know it seems like I would be to blame for this cupboard being the way it is, but I’m actually not

[the-dimitrescu-seamstress]

I Won’t Be Long - A rather long one shot

(I have been working on this, what I call “Magda’s Worst Day”, for a while, and I only recently was inspired to finish it. Hence why I’ve been rather quiet in terms of posts. I can only torture my muse so much.

Basically, this story came about because of the “What have you done to my daughter?!” line. Alcina was in her chambers while saying that, therefore unable to see or know that Ethan was outside. So how did she know what happened to Bela, and who told her? 

My answer? Magda.

I did my best to follow the game’s timeline, but there might have been some condensing or stretching in order to make things fit. I’ve also included some brief cameos from other OCs Magda has interacted with. 

Please note, this is not an “Ethan Hate” story. Magda is simply reacting as one would in their given situation. Is this a sad story? Yes, in parts. Will you hate me for writing this? Maybe. Will you still enjoy reading it? I hope so.)

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

“You must hide. The man is a danger, and I wish for you to be safe. Do your best to keep out of all this. If he approaches you, play the helpless victim. Do not help him, but please do not hinder him either.”

“But I want you to stay safe.”

“You know that I always do, dearest. He is nothing but a man.”

“You literally just said he was a danger.” The press of Bela’s lips against Magda’s was enough the hush the smaller woman and soften her demeanor. “Kissing me in order to maintain the last word is technically cheating, you know.”

“True, but I did learn it from you,” the witch smiled. “I won’t be long.”

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

That conversation happened a little over an hour ago. Since then, Magda had quietly paced the floor of her workroom, occasionally stopping to listen for any sound outside her door. She prayed she’d hear the familiar drone of flies, but nothing came. Everything was unnervingly quiet. Magda did her best to reassure herself. She kept telling herself that the man was outnumbered three to one, that the girls would work together and remove him as a threat, that they couldn’t be killed.

The sudden barrage of nearby gunfire and shattering glass ripped away any comfort she had tried to retain. It wasn’t terribly close, but then again it wasn’t terribly far either. Worse yet, there was no celebratory laughter that accompanied the silence that soon followed. Worry gnawed at Magda’s insides, and she did the one thing that Bela had asked her not to do. She unlocked the door to her workshop, and left her hiding place.

Magda went through the halls in sock feet, wanting to make as little sound as possible. The last thing she needed was to run into the man by accident. Thankfully, the courtyard was deserted. Freezing, especially without shoes or a coat, but it was empty. Even better, the door leading to the dining room was still locked. That meant the intruder had not found a key or harassed one of the few servants who had a skeleton key to the various entryways. Magda was one of those servants. Being a seamstress, and a trusted one at that, gave her a few perks.

As much as she wanted to rush in, Magda knew better. She turned the key slowly, as the locks were heavy and made a distinct and rather loud click when undone. The door she also took time opening, just in case there was an armed madman standing on the other side. Finding none, she closed and relocked the door behind her. Best to keep him confined.

Cassandra’s laughter coming from the Main Hall signaled that she was keeping the intruder well occupied and, rather than risk an interruption, Magda turned to the much plainer door which lead to the kitchen.

Normally the kitchen was a warm place, full of the sounds and smells of cooking food for the human staff, but the rush of cold air that blew in as she entered confirmed a fear she had. Hurrying past the preparation table and ducking under the cuts of drying meat, Magda stopped short in the doorway to the connected storage room. What she saw squeezed her heart like a vice, making it difficult to breath.

Shattered glass and the remains of broken boards framed a large, collapsed pile of frozen flies. The room wavered and suddenly felt hot, despite the open windows. Maybe… maybe this wasn’t Bela, she tried to reason. It wasn’t Cassandra, as she had heard her laughter not moments ago. A small, hateful voice in her head whispered that this was Daniela, that Bela was still alive inside the castle, perhaps happily carving up the man with her sister, and what laid before her was Daniela. Magda hated to even think that, but right now she was mental begging the powers that be for that to be the truth.

Step by hesitant step, she approached the pile, acting as a windbreak when she knelt between it and the broken window. Tears began to cloud her vision as she saw pale yellow flies mixed in amongst the brown and black insects. Again, her heart wrenched inside her chest. Her skin burned and the walls of the room closed in as her anger grew and burst forth in a ragged scream of rage, sorrow, and anguish.

Why?! Why did he do this?! How did he even know?! Did he just get lucky with a stray bullet breaking a pane of glass? Why did he kill her? Why did he go after her? The cold would have been enough to stop her! She would have stopped the chase, and he could have gotten away, but he still decided to kill her! He killed her while she was hurting! He killed her while she was cold, alone, and separated from everyone. He killed Magda’s stea mică… her little star…

He didn’t give a shit about anything or anyone.

Magda’s guttural scream was echoed by a rasping, undead one crawling up from the once boarded up passageway that led to the dungeon. In her emotional state, she hadn’t put two and two together. The boards were smashed going into the storage room rather than out into the passageway. The man had come up from below, meaning he had created a potential access point for the thralls to get upstairs.

“Căcat!” she cursed, scrambling as quickly and as quietly for a container in the other room. It would take the thralls a bit of time to coordinate and stumble their way up the stairs, but they would eventually make it and Magda was not about to let those disgusting things trample all over what was left of Bela.

She would also need to tell the Countess.

Grabbing one of the large basins used to hold drained blood, as well as any discarded towels or cloth she could find, Magda carefully moved every single fly she found into the container, scouring the floor for any the wind may have blown about, but always keeping a careful eye on the dungeon passage. The last thing she needed was to be attacked by those damn thralls as she finished.

The basin was… not as heavy as she thought it would be. That knowledge made her stomach sink and made her feel that much worse. She was carrying her love’s body, and it wasn’t heavy. It needed to be. The woman was seven feet tall! It should have been heavier! These stupid, unimportant thoughts made her tears start to once again fall as she returned to the dining room. “Dammit. I’m sorry, Bela,” she mumbled as a few hot tears fell on the flies.

One twitched in response.

Magda stopped at that. She was seeing things. In her grief, her mind was clearly playing tricks on her. Bela was dead. The cold killed flies. She was dead and the tear hitting the fly only made it look like it moved.

That was when the worst feeling in all of creation latched itself onto her.

Hope.

Leaning in close, she breathed a few times on a small clump of flies, letting her warm breath roll over them. And then she waited… Her heart pounding in her chest as she watched for something. Anything.

…A leg spasmed.

It was small, almost imperceptible, but Magda took it as a sign. A possibility. A tiny one at that, but she grabbed onto it and refused to let it go. Hope was evil like that.

Covering the basin to shield the flies from the cold, she ventured back across the courtyard and towards Alcina’s chambers, locking any and all doors behind her because fuck this man and his doings. Make his shit life harder.

The Countess’ chambers were empty, which sent a chill of dread and terror down Magda’s spine. Had she fallen to the man as well or was she simply hunting him along with her daughters? Should she wait for her to appear? Right now, searching the castle was not the ideal thing to do, as she was unarmed, human, and she had no idea if the intruder would have mercy on her if she encountered him. Thankfully, her questions were answered as familiar heavy footfalls were heard coming up the stairs. Now all she had to do was explain to Alcina what she thought was possible. And hopefully not die in the the telling.

“If I can’t, I’ll do my best to bleed on you as I die, sweetness,” she told the basin of flies, trying to make a joke and do her best to smile. The latter crumbled as soon as the chamber door opened.

“Countess?” Magda’s voice was weak and shaky, full of fear, and she immediately regretted opening her mouth due to the look on Alcina’s face. It was one of surprise mixed with displeasure, which made sense as Magda should still be locked in her sewing room, not running around as she was currently doing.

“Are you not aware of our current situation, Magdalena?” Her tone was cool and reserved, as if she were waiting on Magda’s answer in order to decide the best manner of action to take.

“I am very much aware of the situation, Countess. Which was why I came here as quickly as I could.” she replied, uncovering Bela’s remains. The candelabra the taller woman had been holding streaked towards Magda’s head and the seamstress barely had time to duck.

“What have you done to my daughter?!” she roared, lunging forward and grabbing Magda by her neck. For a moment, fear and terror filled the seamstress’ mind, but she somehow managed to find her voice despite the vice-like grip upon her throat.

“It wasn’t me… the man… did this… the flies… not… not dead…” Darkness had started to creep around the edges of her vision before Alcina finally released her. Landing on the ground hurt, but the deep breath of fresh air she took afterwards was incredibly sweet.

“Explain yourself,” Alcina growled, stretching out those two words in a low and menacing fashion, one not at all suitable for a woman of her standing, but perfect for a mother seeking justice for her child.

“I heard the fight,” Magda rasped, throat still sore. “It was in… the kitchen. I found… Bela. I thought she was dead… but some flies reacted to my tears…. and warm breath. There’s a chance. That cold state they go into. She told me about it. Bela might not be dead. Only hibernating. If she can be warmed, maybe she can be saved.” Magda watched Alcina, eyes never turning away or blinking too rapidly. She didn’t want to give the woman any excuse or reason not to believe her.

The quiet between them lasted for what seemed an eternity, only to be interrupted by a low rumbling and draining of liquid coming from the next room over. They both heard it, though Alcina only gave the most subtle of glances in its direction. The pool in the Hall of Ablution had been emptied. The Countess’ iron grip was suddenly around Magda’s arm, pulling her back to her feet.

“You will take my daughter back to your workshop and you will keep her warm,” she hissed. “You will not leave her side, not even for a moment. Should I find you disobeying my instructions and wandering these halls while that impudent wretch is still in my castle, your life is forfeit. Is that understood?” Magda nodded, fear in her eyes. She picked up the basin, replacing the cover before being roughly escorted out of the chamber.

Once safely back in her workshop, Magda set about gathering her thickest fabrics; the wools, flannels, gabardines, and anything else heavy she had. She removed the blankets and comforter from her bed and did what she could to form a nest or bed for the flies. For a moment, she even considered cutting her forearm and dribbling some blood onto them, but if they weren’t moving then they weren’t feeding, and the last thing she wanted to risk was them somehow drowning in her own blood.

Magda did her best to obey the Countess’ instructions, as she was not about to risk Alcina’s wrath, not with her life on the line. However, if she did end up being wrong about Bela, maybe it would be better to join her in death. What was she thinking? Magda likely would die anyways. But, in terms of when, it would just depend on Alcina’s mood. So, the seamstress sat in silence, waiting and praying to hear the soft buzzing of fly wings as they slowly warmed up.

Instead, she heard someone faintly plinking the keys of the piano in the Opera Hall. Rather badly at that. Naturally, the all too familiar footfalls of an enraged Alcina soon followed. He must not have realized she was hunting him, Magda thought. Because what idiot would actually take the time to play the piano if they were actively trying to stay hidden? The brief retort of gunfire seemed to prove her point. Although she could only hear what was going on, Magda still had a brief chuckle as she imagined the man scrambling for his life away from Alcina.

Not that he had many places to run to. It was either to Magda’s workshop or the library, and as the noise of confrontation began to distance itself from her hiding place, she breathed a sigh of relief. The library it was then.

“How has this man managed to survive this long?” she softly asked Bela’s remains. As if in answer, gunshots rang out once more and the seamstress stood, wondering who he was fighting now. The previously reassuring knowledge that bullets couldn’t harm anyone in this house re-entered Magda’s head… but it was quickly dashed to pieces as she glanced back at Bela. Who had he gone after now? She needed to know.

For five long minutes, Magda stood at her sewing room door, with it cracked open enough to listen. But she heard nothing. No footsteps, no gunfire, no sounds of anyone.

If Alcina caught her, it would be death, a voice in her head reasoned.

So she simply would avoiding getting caught, another replied.

The distance to the library wasn’t far, and she could easily hear the Countess’ footsteps well in advance, allowing her to hide as she approached.

“I’ll be back soon, stea mică. I won’t be long,” she softly told the flies. A few seemed to twitch in response. God, she hoped that she was right in the foolish ‘not dead, only hibernating’ theory. Basin and flannel cloth in hand, Magda made her way to the library, hoping she wouldn’t need what she carried.

Her heart sank upon feeling the chilly air inside. Papers were scattered, vases lay shattered, and, near enough to be in the light cast from the glass skylight which acted as a central decorative point for the room, was another large pile of immobile flies. Magda actually needed a moment to sit and collect herself with this discovery. Little flies, whose bodies glittered in the light, matched Daniela’s hair color.

Alcina will weep, Magda thought as she did her best to keep her own tears from falling once more. Gathering up these remains took longer than Bela’s, but not because they were scattered about. No. For as messy and wild as Daniela was in life, she had collapsed in a neat little pile. It was the weight and knowledge that this was the baby of the family which made this such a long and arduous task.

“You’re not alone, Dani. I’m not letting you be alone. I’m taking you to your sister. You’ll be safe in my sewing room,” She told the flies. Could this have been the first sign of madness? After all, Magda was talking to a container full of potentially dead insects. She recalled the character of Renfield from Dracula. The man went mad in an effort to serve and worship his vampire lord. Perhaps she was becoming something along the same lines. Perhaps she was already dead; killed by the intruder, and this was her own personal hell of gathering up mounds of flies throughout the castle for the rest of eternity, all the while avoiding Alcina. If Bela’s nest was not in the workshop when she returned to it, Magda figured this terrible thought would be reality.

Thankfully, upon opening the door to her workshop, the comforter and blanket that Bela was nestled in was still where the seamstress had left it. So maybe she was not dead and this was not hell. Little miracles were all she could hope for right now.

Magda took her time making Daniela’s nest, listening for anything that would signal they were victorious and this man-thing was dead and gone. She shook her head a little as she used that term. Normally, Magda did not join in on calling men that, but this was a special case. This individual didn’t seem human. The fact that he could best two of the daughters worried her, and a dread feeling that, unless mother and daughter combined forces, Cassandra could fall as well filled Magda’s stomach like a lead weight.

The daughters were monsters, yes. By the classic definition, that’s what they were, and Magda did not deny any of it. Blood stained dresses, screams and laughter coming from the dungeon, or even the rare times when Bela’s kisses had a slight hint of copper or something raw tasting to them. They weren’t normal. Alcina was also a monster; perhaps even more of one. The height, the claws, the gray skin that she hid beneath layers of foundation. All four of them shared that same inhuman appetite for blood and flesh. But, they also had human tendencies. They laughed, they cried, they screamed in fright the odd times they were scared or taken by surprise.

Then again, humans could be monsters as well. History showed how terrible they could be. Magda was certainly no angel, and she had the odd feeling that this man wasn’t entirely a good person either. Maybe she was wrong. Magda didn’t know. All she knew was that she was trying to save the small group of friends and family she had left in this world.

Minutes ticked by and still her wing of the castle remained quiet. The longer it stayed quiet, the more she worried. If the man was dead, Alcina would have come to her workshop to see to her daughter. But if the quiet persisted? Magda didn’t want to think on that.

“Should I go out and search?” she asked her charges. Of course, no reply came. Magda thought she saw more movement from Bela’s flies, but she had no idea if they all needed to be restored to a proper temperature, like a hive mind, before they could respond. With the way Magda had layered everything, they would warm up slowly and naturally. No artificial heaters or fires were being used, as she didn’t want to risk damaging them. After watching both mounds for a few minutes, the seamstress nodded, knowing once more what she had to do.

The castle had an unusual quietness, a stillness she had never felt before. There was always at least some sort of background noise; the shuffling of servants, the daughters’ laughter, the general noise of a home being lived in. Where was everyone? Had the man killed them all? Or were Sylvia, Andre, Samuel, Bianca, and the rest hiding in the servant’s quarters, having barricaded themselves in? Vulga likely would have escaped into the walls upon hearing the first gunshot, so she was probably safe.

At least there would be some survivors of Castle Dimitrescu.

Finding Cassandra took a long time. Besides hiding from both the constantly patrolling Alcina and the seemingly trigger happy mad man, Magda had to think like the middle child, who had the tendency to spend time in the oddest of places. While Bela and Daniela could be found in seemingly normal locations in the castle, Cassandra explored. She found hidden areas that were unknown to most of the inhabitants, hard to get to, or simply dilapidated enough and impossible to access unless you could fly. Magda assumed she enjoyed being hard to find.

The seamstress had searched damn near every room, after having briefly hidden for a few heart-pounding minutes in one of the dressing room wardrobes upon hearing Alcina’s approach. Currently, she was sitting in the back hallway, taking a moment to try and mentally collect herself. Magda hated failing, and right now she was absolutely in sync with the idea that she was a failure. Cassandra, as far as she knew, had simply disappeared. Had the man shattered a window and thrown her outside? If that was the case, then the chance of finding the young woman dropped to impossible odds. The castle was surrounded by woods and cliffs with sheer drops. Maybe… if the snow and cold somehow preserved her through the winter, Cassandra would show up in the spring, like crocuses.

At that thought, Magda let slip a sharp little laugh while, at the same time, her eyes began to water. Cassandra would hate being compared to a flower. She would absolutely have hated it. And for as much as Magda wanted to continue to both laugh and cry right now, it would certainly draw unwanted attention from one of two parties currently in the castle. Possibly both.

Wiping her face with her sleeve, she allowed herself a few calming breaths before pushing herself back to her feet and continuing this fruitless search.

The slight draft blowing on Magda’s hand from beneath the door stopped her. Yes, castles were drafty, but not this one. Alcina made certain to insulate everything as best she could so her daughters could survive the winter in relative comfort. But, there was a definite bit of air movement coming from under this door.

Opening it, Magda found the Statue of Pleasure…. with an animal skull in place of the sacrifice’s head. Not even Cassandra or Daniela would be foolish enough to ruin one of their mother’s statues. So, on top of being a murderer, this man enjoyed defacing both art and private property. What the fuck was wrong with him?

The indignity aside, the windows in this room were intact, so where was the draft coming from? The only other option was the fireplace, but if the chimney was that badly cracked, why wasn’t it sealed? Crouching in front of it, the reason quickly became apparent as the entire back of the fireplace has been removed, and the hole led to a set of stairs.

“Cassandra, you little shit.”

Crawling through the passageway, Magda entered what looked to be the remains of a hidden armory, or at least a place to stash and work on things a certain daughter didn’t want her mother to learn about or her sisters to interfere with. It would have been a lovely little room had it not been for the gaping hole in the wall, letting in all the cold air. And there, near enough to the stairway, laid what was left of Alcina’s middle child.

“At least you were smart enough to fight him in a room without windows,” Magda commented as she gathered her up. Cassandra was vicious and violent when she wan’t to be, but she was also calculative and observant. Perhaps that’s why she lasted as long as she did. Had she sacrificed her sisters in order to study this man? If Magda were the girl’s mother, they would definitely be having a talk about that later.

With the last of the Dimitrescu daughters safely bundled up, Magda began to make her way back to the workshop. As it was nearly on the other side of the castle with no direct route, she took great care to move as quietly as possible. She paused repeatedly, and scanned the Main Hall, looking for signs of the the woman in white. For as large as she was, Alcina was a stalking beast. She could be incredibly quiet if she wished to be.

As she crouched in one the small balconies, Magda heard movement coming from below her on the floor of the main hall. However, it didn’t sound… right. It couldn’t have been the intruder, unless he was gravely injured. But If that were the case, Alcina wouldn’t have been far behind, and Magda didn’t hear her at all. Speaking of the Countess, it certainly wasn’t her, as the noise was far too small to be anyone remotely her size.

Chancing a look, Magda peeked over the edge, and a soft gasp of surprise, sounding so devastatingly loud in this silence, escaped her lips as she saw what was beneath her. Luana, the castle’s head servant, the personal watchdog for the Countess, laid collapsed on the marble floor, clothes stained red with blood. Where had they been all this time?! Magda had scoured entire castle… Had they been outside and only just now managed to get in? This just made her life ten times harder. Not only did she have Cassandra to carry back, but now there was the issue of Luana as well.

She could have left them where they were. She could have. After all, Magda was currently disobeying orders and Alcina was already displeased by her previous actions. She should have taken Cassandra back to her workshop and then returned. By then, perhaps Alcina would have discovered Luana herself and… done what? She was hellbent on hunting down the intruder. Would she even have stopped and tended to her servant? Magda couldn’t say. She also had no idea what would have happened if the man found them first. Would he finish the job he clearly started? In all likelihood? Yes.

Tucking Cassandra safely in an out of the way corner by the top of the stairs, Magda made her way down to her fellow servant, glancing into the Hall of the Four as she went.

The doors leading to the Temple of Worship were open.

In all her years there, Magda had rarely seen those exterior doors stand open as they were now. The Countess was strict in her orders about that portion of the castle being forbidden to everyone save herself, and now the seamstress was watching her tall figure ascend the temple stairs. An unknown fear filled Magda with dread at that sight, and she hurried towards Luana.

Rolling the head servant over onto their back, Magda gave them a quick look over. Buckshot, and a few normal bullet holes, peppered Luana’s blood soaked torso. A normal human would have been dead from such injuries and blood loss, but Luana was thankfully not fully human, rather a Lycan-cross. They usually preferred not to speak of their heritage, but Magda hoped they would be happy to have it just this once.

“Luana? Luana, dear, can you hear me?” she asked, opening their eyes to check for any sign of life. She was met with slurred, half-conscious Portuguese. “You know damn well I don’t speak that, but right now any response is a good one, so I’ll take it.” The bleeding had stopped and their breathing seemed normal from what she could tell; no gurgles, bloody froth in the mouth, or sounds of difficulty.

“…Apologies…” they said in Romanian, doing their best to sit up.

“You’re fine. I’m just happy to see someone else, aside from the Countess, alive,” she replied. Their uniform already ruined, Magda removed Luana’s jacket and began tearing off bandage strips. Or at least she started to, as a distant crash and a devastating roar from outside quickly stopped her efforts. Whatever injuries seemed to be afflicting Luana were momentarily forgotten as they did their best to stand, only to collapse almost immediately. As they attempted it a second time, Magda moved to support them. She didn’t even say a word or caution them to take it slow as the two of them made it to the open doorway.

And what they saw? There were no words.

It was huge. A great beast, vast and terrible, with an immense wingspan, lashing tail, and a toothy, gaping maw circled the top of the temple tower; sometimes flying, sometimes crawling along the stonework. It was pale white with streaks of pink flesh, slick and glossy looking as the sun hit it. Muscles bulged as if barely contained by the skin, as tendrils curled and whipped about in an independent fury. It looked both cancerous and incomplete while at the same time horrifically beautiful and awe-inspiring in some inexplicable way. And to top it off, as if in an absurd gilding of the lily, Alcina’s upper torso, looking flayed and monstrous, erupted from between the beast’s shoulder blades. Her voice was distorted, both by rage, vengeance, and sorrow, but also by this transformation. She was lost in this madness, fully given in to it.

Magda’s knees gave way, and she fell to the floor, unintentionally bring Luana down with her. The seamstress was lost. How was this even possible? How had Alcina become this gargantuan beast? Could she change back? A sudden sick feeling rolled over her as all these questions and more filled her head. She was sure Luana was thinking similar things.

All they could do was watch this battle as it unfurled. Stonework and roofing tiles fell freely as the dragon creature did its best to pursue its quarry. Gunfire was heard regularly as Alcina taunted, threatened, and cackled in her torment. The fight moved steadily upwards, with more and more of the building being destroyed until a bloodcurdling shriek was heard and something structural gave way.

Multiple somethings.

Large plumes of dust, broken window, and cracks forming in the side of the building were the indication that the dragon had fallen through all of the interior floors of the temple, landing with a massive crash.

Magda and Luana looked at each other and then back towards the temple. “How about we wait and listen for movement?” the seamstress started to offer, but the head servant was already stumbling towards the building, trying desperately not to once more fall onto their face. They didn’t get very far before collapsing, but Magda was there to lift them back up. “How about a compromise? We get to the temple door and listen before barging in?” At that, Luana nodded a little sheepishly.

If Magda had thought the castle had been quiet, the inside of the temple was a veritable tomb. She just hoped it wasn’t a literal one. At least not for Alcina. Let the man be buried under all that rubble. Unfortunately, her wish was not yet granted, as she saw the limping figure of a man leaving through the lower level door. All she needed was a gun. Why didn’t she or Luana have a pistol? One bullet through the back of his damned head, that’s all that was needed and all this terribleness would be over with.

But instead, Magda just stood there, watching him leave before her gaze turned to Alcina’s body. It was still that dragon creature, but she had just come to accept that this was the Countess. Luana was already making their way down to her, carefully using the broken rubble as a stairway. Magda reluctantly followed suit.

The beast may have remained, but the human torso that was Alcina? That was gone, crumbled to ashes. The body was also still. Seeing that, Magda sat down hard, shocked by it all. Luana at least made it to the corpse, but they soon collapsed as tears began to fall.

Theirs was an ugly crying, one that Magda had never heard from them before. It was a full body shaking, heaving from the gut sort of crying. Luana had been serving House Dimitrescu since they were a teenager, and they saw Alcina as a mother figure, so Magda could only imagine what they were going through.

Letting them grieve for a few minutes, Magda eventually stood and walked over to Luana, placing a hand on their shoulder.

It was then that the beast took a great, shuddering breath.

Instincts quickly took hold and Magda scrambled backwards, not wanting to risk being eaten, while Luana did the opposite and moved closer, overjoyed to see some sign of life coming from the creature. She expected to hear a scream or cry of pain from Luana, imagining the creature lunging forward and devouring the head servant in one or two gulps. But instead, when the seamstress looked back, she saw Luana petting its head, saying soft things to it in Portuguese as it just laid there, barely making any noise.

“You are either very brave, very trusting, or very stupid to be petting that thing,” Magda hissed, keeping her voice down low, as if raising it would trigger the beast to attack them both.

“It knows me… us. It won’t hurt us,” Luana replied calmly.

“How do you know that? How is it even still alive?! Alcina’s torso is gone! The thing should be dead!” In response to Magda’s outburst, the thing growled, slightly turning its head in her direction. “… All right, I’m clearly wrong in my assessment of life and death. But that still doesn’t explain why or how.”

“Separate functioning systems? Maybe it all… pinched shut when the torso disintegrated? Like a limb or a tree branch that’s dying? Save the main body?” Luana offered.

“I would have thought Alcina would have been the main body. Can she regenerate from this?” Magda asked. Luana simply shrugged.

“We take her back to the castle and see what happens over the next few hours or days.”

“Easier said than done,” Magda replied, gesturing to the rock they scaled down and the all too small door was the only other exit.

“If it is a simple creature, then it will respond to simple things like food. She will need to eat anyways. We lure it back with food,” Luana reasoned.

The kitchen was thusly raided and a good bit of the meat that was there removed; both cured and what was still fresh. Amazingly, despite having heard the shrieks of the thralls earlier, the kitchen was now devoid of them. Had they wandered back down into the dungeon after finding no prey? Or were they all dead? Magda could only wonder as she glanced towards that corridor, her eyes wanting to linger on the spot where she found Bela. No, she thought. No, Bela was safe in the sewing room with her sisters. Magda had made a brief detour to deposit Cassandra there, as well as retrieve a pair of shoes for herself, before joining back up with Luana in the kitchen.

Along with the meat, they also brought along two barrels from the tasting room, placed at strategic points along the route back to the castle, in case extra bribery was needed for the beast. By the time they had finished setting everything up, the Alcinadragon… for what else would you call it?… was on its feet, clumsily walking around its temporary enclosure. Naturally, after throwing down the first piece of meat, with it being consumed in a single bite, the beast’s attention snapped to the two of them as it began the effort of climbing its way up towards freedom.

Magda knew better than to run. After all, doing so would likely trigger hunting and chasing instincts. But still, once the massive forelimbs appeared and the beast pulled itself up and over the lip of the hole, she made sure to be a good distance away, keeping Luana between it and her.

While this was something she normally would never state, on pain of death, it was rather easy to lead this version of Alcina around by her stomach. So long as they had a trail of food, she was easy to please and keep relatively docile. In the end, they only needed one barrel as a treat, though it wasn’t quite that. As they passed it on the bridge, the creature must have smelled the contents, or perhaps recognized the shape…. but how that was possible, Magda had no idea, as it had no discernible eyes right now. Either way, the tooth lined maw easily engulfed the barrel and bit down, splintering the wood and draining the contents quickly. Afterwards, the creature seemed more agreeable.

Maybe it had just needed a drink.

By the time they had entered the Hall of The Four, the remaining castle staff had emerged from their hiding places. There were no reprimands or excuses given, only looks and sighs of relief. Bianca, Sylvia, and Mihaela quickly flocked to the form of the Countess who was currently gorging on wine and meat. Samuel latched themself onto Magda with a tight hug; one that she was not exactly ready to receive, but she was also not about to deny them this comfort. Vulga also soon joined in, likely in an effort to make Magda feel even more uncomfortable.

“If you two insist on being this close to me, I will be putting you to work,” Magda told them both before taking them to her workshop and retrieving the three sisters. Sam took Daniela, Vulga carried Cassandra, and Magda held Bela close. The urge to place the daughters next to their mother was great, but caution won out instead. Who knew if or how the Alcinadragon would react to seeing her children as nothing more than collections of flies? Yes, they were becoming more active, but there was no indication they were on their way to reforming back into their human shapes. They just need time, Magda thought. That’s all. They’ve been through trauma, and they just need time to recover.

Even though it was not yet midday, It was decided that everyone would spend the night in the Main Hall. It was the inner most room, central to most of the castle, and it was big enough to house all of them comfortably, even a dragon with a massive wingspan. There would be safety in numbers.

“Do you think he’ll come back?” Magda asked Luana quietly.

“No. As far as he is concerned, everyone here is dead. Whether that is true or not…” They paused, not wanting to say the unthinkable. Understanding, Magda nodded and finished their sentence.

“…It’s best to keep up that appearance.”

“Precisely. We keep everyone centralized for the time being. Close off and safeguard the exit points, stay quiet, and wait. With any luck, things will be different twenty-four from now. Or at least there will be an indication of a difference.” The look the two of them shared was one of tiredness and threadbare hope. There wasn’t much left to run on, but so long as the lady of the house still drew breath, no matter what form she took, they still had their duties to attend to.

“Even if the man isn’t coming back, no one is going down to the outer gatehouse and drawbridge by themselves. One of the lords is currently weakened, you are still recovering from being shot multiple times, and while my mind may be playing into the medieval hierarchy of things, I wouldn’t put it past other things going wrong and our current situation being taken advantage of. We’ll go together. It’ll be faster that way.”

Despite initial outward appearances, the castle was rather impenetrable once locked down. A drawbridge, three heavy doors of varying designs dividing the exterior gatehouse, a massive portcullis at the Carriage Gate, and a smaller, but just as fortified, portcullis on the interior of the entrance hall that kept the front doors closed from the outside. For all intents and purposes, they would be safe and secure.

More of the staff wanted to assist in the closing of the gatehouse, but they were dissuaded by a few other duties; securing the door leading to the temple, keeping an eye on Alcina, and gathering up any supplies they would need for the night. They were also greeted by another unexpected task upon opening the castle doors.

In the middle of the Carriage Gate rested four crates; three of a similar size and one that was noticeably larger. Nothing had been ordered, and the Duke had packed up his caravan, vacating his usual spot some time during the battle with Alcina. Yet the note tacked onto the larger crate was in his elaborate, flowing script:

I’d wager these treasures are of more use to you than I. Think of this as a thank you for your years of patronage, as well as a farewell gift for the time being. Keep them safe.

Bonne chance,

The Duke

The lids came off easily, and inside, nestled amongst packing material were… statues? Odd ones at that. Beautiful, crystalline, and perhaps a bit macabre, they were three busts and one massive torso with what seemed to be very familiar proportions. Either the Duke had a sick sense of humor or this was something else.

“Take these inside,” Magda instructed, still a bit confused as to what they were. “Be careful with them. Don’t damage them.” She then hurried to catch up with Luana who had decidedly not stopped to investigate the crates.

While neither of them ventured out into the village, the lack of the noisy day to day life that would normally filter up from it was obvious and more than a bit unnerving. Yes, there were the occasional barks and growls from whatever lycans were still prowling around the buildings, but there were no sounds of people. That lack of background noise twisted Magda’s stomach and made her raise the drawbridge that much faster.

“Tomorrow… Tomorrow, we will search the village. Look for survivors,” Luana reassured her.

“I don’t think there are any other survivors,” she replied morosely, as her thoughts immediately went to the one person outside the castle that Magda actually cared about. Stay safe, Donna. Please God, keep her safe.

With each barricade put into place, Magda felt both safer and more alone… cut off from everything. But this was what needed to be done. As the final portcullis fell into place in the entrance hall, a burden lifted from her shoulders. There was still that sick feeling in her stomach, but her back felt lighter.

Why? She didn’t know. She didn’t deserve to feel better.

Everything was starting to blur together, and she didn’t care anymore. Magda remembered entering the Main Hall and seeing the Alcinadragon curled protectively around the crystalline torso that shared the measurements of the Countess, growling at anyone who came near it. She didn’t care or wonder why. Someone called out her name as she climbed the stairs, but she ignored it, legs carrying her faster and faster as she went. She didn’t want to talk. Her head, neck, and chest felt hot. She felt smothered and unable to breathe. She needed to get away.

By the time she was in the Hall of Joy, Magda was running. The library was a blur, as was the opera hall. Her eyes were open, but they saw nothing, as if her brain was on automatic. All she cared about was getting away.

She slammed the door to her workroom shut, turning the lock as well in order to keep herself physically, mentally, and emotionally away from everyone. She managed to go a few steps into the room before her knees gave way and she collapsed into a heap. That’s when the floodgates of emotion just opened up. She screamed and wailed, tears falling uncontrollably. All the pain and the burdens accumulated from this day, from these past few hours, came roaring out.

She had no idea how long she cried, nor how many in the castle heard her. She didn’t know if anyone knocked on the door to check on her, nor did she care. She would have ignored it anyway. At one point early on in her anguish, her stomach heaved. Only bile came out, as she had eaten nothing this entire day, but the wretching continued until even that was entirely discarded from her system. She cried until her tears ran dry; until only hiccuping breathes and weary, burning eyes remained.

Throughout all of this, there was one constant in Magda’s mind. She knew that if anyone, and she did mean anyone, interrupted her in this moment, there would be hell to pay. The staff had seen her mad and frustrated before, but they had never seen her rage. If anyone tried to comfort or hold her right now, they would be met with punches, thrown objects, and a slew of filthy, hate-filled words that she would likely regret at a later date. Perhaps even shears to the intruder’s throat, if she could reach them in time.

She didn’t want comfort. She wanted this pain. She wanted to hurt.

But most of all, she wanted her Bela.

Eventually though, the pain did subside. It slowly dulled and dissipated. To say it was completely gone would have been a lie, but it had settled for the time being. Magda’s body ached, as did her head. The floor beside her was a mess, but she made an effort and took the time to clean up the bile. She couldn’t stand having such a thing lingering in her workshop, no matter her mood or the circumstances. The process also helped the seamstress return to a semblance of herself.

After a change of clothes, a quick washing of her face and brushing of her teeth, Magda made her way back to the main hall. Samuel was lingering in the hallway, shuffling around a bit in an effort to entertain themself while probably waiting for Magda to re-emerge.

“Hey, Magda? Are… are you okay? Do you need anything? A hug maybe?” they asked, holding their arms open. Magda just shook her head and continued on. “Ice cream, maybe? We could sit and watch a movie together Not a scary movie or anythin’, but I’ll sit and watch something you’d like if it makes you feel better.” At that, Magda just sighed.

“Sam? Right now, what I want? I can’t have. So, please? Just let me go sit in peace next to what is left of the woman I love. All right?”

“Yeah, um…. about that? Okay, so we brought the statue things in like you said, but as soon as we did, the dragon thing that Lady D turned into? Yeah, she got real defensive and grabbed the big statue and isn’t giving it up. So, we then took the smaller ones and the fly piles got really active. Like super, super active. I mean, they’re not buzzin’ around like normal or human, but-“ Magda didn’t even wait for Sam to finish. Once more, she was off and running.

The daughters were on the opposite side of the fireplace from the Alcinadragon, though pretty much everyone was on the opposite side from her, as she took up an entire length of the hall. Samuel had actually been right, as the flies were more active since the last time she saw them. While not swarming, they were crawling over the statues, or rather, individual statues. Now that she was able to look at them properly, Magda could discern the shapes of the daughters in the torsos. Bela’s she knew well enough, and Daniela was a bit slighter than Cassandra… and all the while the appropriate flies were crawling over the appropriate statues. She still had no idea what they were for, but clearly they held some importance.

Whether it had been intentional or not, someone had set Bela in the alcove under the stairs, allowing a bit of privacy and seclusion if it was needed. Obviously, Samuel or someone else had taken Magda’s breakdown into consideration. Normally, the seamstress did not enjoy having special things done for her, but at the moment, she was not about complain.

Sitting on a blanket with her back against the wall, Magda actually managed to take a breath and relax for the first time that day.

They were alive.

Whether due to the added heat, time to recover, or whatever these odd statues were, the daughters were alive and moving around. They would be all right. The Alcinadragon had a forelimb curled around her own statue, surrounded by her favorite maidens, and was practically asleep, if her breathing was any indication. She would be all right. None of the servants had been gravely injured in the long term. The current state of the castle was an odd miracle, but it was a miracle nonetheless.

Looking at the crystalline statue beside her, Magda gently placed her fingertips upon it, in hopes that it would pulse or feel abnormally warm. That wasn’t the case, but one of the pale yellow flies that had been idly traversing the torso’s clavicle almost immediately changed direction and climbed onto her hand. Smiling, either from happiness or exhaustion, she brought the insect closer as it proceeded to march into the palm of her cupped hand. It happily buzzed and bumped its head against her skin, settling down in the warmth as Magda gently stroked it.

As if energized by her touch, the fly took to the air and landed in the hollow of the seamstress’ neck, where it buzzed and bounced around more; its little wings tickling her just enough to elicit a soft laugh from Magda.

“Hi, stea mică…” she said softly, body instinctively relaxing to that sensation. Magda wasn’t sure if it was her exhaustion or something else, but as her eyes closed and sleep began to take her, she could have sworn she heard Bela’s voice in the drone of the fly.

I won’t be long.

EPILOGUE:

“Magda? Magda, wake up. Somethin’s happening,” Sam’s voice cut through the blackness of sleep. The seamstress groggily rubbed her eyes and looked around, remembering where she was. Instinctively, she looked over at the Bela statue, worried for a moment at that she would find. The concern was unfounded as it was mostly covered by a swarm of flies, more than what she had seen prior to falling asleep.

“What is it? What’s wrong?” she asked, standing up. The Alcinadragon was still asleep, her harem of maidens still tending to her. If it was possible, she too looked healthier.

“There’s something goin’ on in the village. Luana told me to get you. They’re in Lady D’s bedroom.” That made sense. The Countess’ chambers had a view that overlooked the village. It was a smart place to scout from.

Making her way there, Magda discovered that night had fallen, meaning she had slept most of the day away. Why hadn’t they woken her up sooner? She didn’t need to have her sleep schedule even more messed up. However, the not so far off explosions made her decide otherwise, as she quickened her steps up the stairs.

Luana was out on the balcony of Alcina’s chambers, watching a veritable firefight going on in the village. Massive waving tendrils were erupting from the ground, knocking what looked like military helicopters out of the sky as explosions and gunfire rocked what was left of the buildings.

“Have they come towards the castle?” Magda asked after taking it all in.

“No,” Luana replied.

“Then unless they come towards the castle, it’s not our fight. I’m not about to start something with a group that has guns, explosions, and…” An airstrike briefly interrupted the seamstress as she talked. “Whatever the hell that is!”

“I simply thought you would like to be made aware of this. It was wise that we closed up everything when we did.” Magda didn’t know why Luana was making her seem more important than she actually was. They were the head servant. She was just the seamstress.

“…… You’re going to sit out here until it’s over, aren’t you?”

“Of course.” At that, Magda sighed.

“I’m not staying out here all night. It’s too cold. I’d suggest that you come in from the cold as well, but you’re just as stubborn as I am. I’ll be inside on the chaise lounge if you need me. Please don’t freeze out here, Luana. I’m not about to lose you after keeping you alive.” With that said, Magda went back inside and made herself comfortable on the Countess’ furniture, something she’d never do normally, but this wasn’t exactly normal circumstances. Come to think of it, the large hole in the floor was also out of the ordinary. That hadn’t been there earlier today… What had happened here after she left with Bela?

She must have fallen asleep, since the next thing she knew, Magda was woken up by the sudden slamming of a door, followed almost immediately by being rocked off the chaise lounge by an earth shattering explosion. Broken glass rained down on her as the shockwave smashed the windows. For a brief moment, she thought a nuclear device had gone off and she waited for the incineration wave to burn her to a crisp. When none of that happened, and the castle remained standing, she looked around.

Luana was crouched against the door leading to the balcony, covering their head out of instinct. Brushing the glass from her hair, Magda cautiously stood up and looked out the window. Smoke filled the air, but as the wind carried it away, she could see a decently sized crater in what had been the ceremony site. There was nothing left of the tendrils from last night, just like there wasn’t much left of the village.

“What in the hell happened?” she mumbled. “Do you even now think there are survivors?” she asked Luana. In response, they simply pointed to the distant shape of a quickly retreating helicopter. For a moment, anger blossomed in Magda’s chest. If that man was on that thing? How dare he be able to escape so easily after causing all this destruction. But the feeling and hatred vanished along with the helicopter. If he was gone, then so much the better. Better for him to be gone and forgotten than to remain a problem for them all.

“Goodbye and good riddance, stupid man-thing,” Magda said, before turning her back on the sunrise and returning, with Luana, to her family.

[zaptap]

ive made a few of these bingo sheets and theyre fun so i decided to make one not just for e3 but also JUST for splatoon 3 (not just for e3 but for like the whole lifetime of the game). also heres my updated list of characters id like to see in smash, ordered generally by which id like more and/or think are the most realistic

since min min got in i took out helix, and since i couldnt decide whether to add in waluigi or madeline i added another row (realistically i dont think any indies are getting in but i threw some in anyway). also i was like “oh yeah maybe theyd put in a gen viii pokemon” so i threw in hatterene since thats one of my favorites.

also as for waluigi (and shovel knight for that matter) i think it would be nice to see an assist trophy get in just to break that rule. also i remember being super surprised he wasnt in brawl (back then i thought he and wario were equally important) and even though that was based on a wrong impression ive still felt like he should be in there ever since

notes about the bingos under the cut

really is about time for those n64 games, especially now that mario is dead so theyre free to release sm64 on it. game boy games would be nice sometime too

would also make sense to include banjo-kazooie in that, nintendos had a good relationship with microsoft lately and the total absence of anything banjo-kazooie on the switch is odd since it’s a dlc character (every other one has a game on switch they can use for cross-marketing, even if joker’s took a while) and i think the best explanation for that would be that theyre holding off for the nso n64 app (this is easiest from a technical standpoint because all they have to do is make a deal to use the roms)

when are they putting octolings in mk8d

xenoblade chronicles x is one of the only wii u games left that they could port (aside from ones that wouldnt make much sense like splatoon and ssb4) so i guess that might as well happen sometime. also monolith soft might be doing something else besides helping with splatoon 3

im not ready for metroid prime 4 (im over halfway through mp2 and therefore the trilogy as a whole) but it’s been a while, they might show it and it could even come out this year

hal apparently recently hinted at a new kirby game or something

the upgraded switch is obviously going to be called the Nintendo Switch ͥ  since they already did the ds lite so theyre clearly naming everything in the family after the ds family, theres absolutely no flaw in this logic. idk if theyre showing it, but unlike 2019 they didnt say they werent showing new hardware (just that they were showing software, which could be taken as denying rumors, but they sometimes specify when certain things arent being shown)

metroid prime trilogy also might come this year. would make sense to release it before mp4 since not everyone is going to buy a wii u to get it (and at this point that doesnt get nintendo any money since they stopped making them)

where is detective pikachu 2. i hope it has the blue pikachu from that first tease they gave us in like 2014 (2013? that was a loooong time ago idk)

they said this was MOSTLY 2021 so i am absolutely getting my hopes up for splatoon 2

the two sinnoh games could likely be there

would be super cool if oddity came to switch. and almost as ironic as megalovania getting into smash

we havent seen the botw sequel for a couple years so we’re kind of due for an update on that

it’s ace attorney’s 20th anniversary this year so maybe theyre doing something. theyre already porting those games though so idk. maybe he’s getting in smash

whats with that watermelon mario render

i held off on watching a playthrough for ndrv3 on the off chance it came to switch and i could play a dangan ronpa game for real for once but it’s now been 4 years and we just passed the 10th anniversary of the series (albeit during a pandemic when i wouldnt expect them to have done anything) so it would be cool to see the series come to switch. i think if it still doesnt after this though i’ll just watch the playthrough, 4 years is long enough. amazed ive avoided spoilers this long, i still know next to nothing about the game

im about done with acnh but im still waiting on those splatoon items. and i ran out of storage in february so i need more of that too

nintendo did stuff for zelda’s 30th anniversary so i doubt theyre forgetting the 35th. maybe wwhd/tphd ports, idk

been a couple years since fire emblem, intelligent systems is probably up to something besides planning yet another paper mario spinoff

miyamoto forgot pikmin 4 in the oven 6 years ago and it got burnt to a crisp and thats why it hasnt come out yet because he had to start over

and splatoon

the inklings scared daft punk into quitting so now that theres no competition in the robot musician scene they should have a daft punk style group

i waited and waited and neither of my top two splatoon stages (flounder and d’alfonsino) came back in splatoon 2 so i hope just because splatoon 3 isnt in inkopolis doesnt mean they still wont return

would be sick as hell if there was a real hide and seek mode instead of just sticking to your own rules in private battles. havent played that since 2015 but it was super fun

show us the effects of the chaos world

i wanted mc craig to have a song in octo expansion and they didnt deliver. heres another chance

splatnet 3 baby

cant wait for nogami to do a funny 3 pose

abxy came back for splatoon 2.... am i gonna be that lucky again...?

salmon run doesnt make sense if youre friends with a smallfry but they could either change the story context (you just fight “evil” salmonids?) or replace it with an equally fun co-op mode

amiibo!!! i think i said this before but they should label them by weapons if these cephalopods dont have genders, would make more sense (the gendered ones had different weapons anyway)

returning characters!!!! would like to see everyone have a role of some kind

maybe #GearForAll wasnt successful in getting the emperor/spy/mecha gear, but perhaps theyll at least consider not making that stuff exclusive this time around

squid girl gear should be back. and they should call it a dress instead of a tunic because its a dress. and theres no gender now anyway

as ive said before... TRIPLIES!! you hold one in each hand and another in your mouth. and you can spin around like the tasmanian devil

remove splatfest tee annoyances: you should have a prompt at the end of a splatfest to pay to scrub your tee (to make sure you get the chunks) also it should be on a neutral brand so you dont end up with an overabundance of ink resistance up (or whatever else)

better online and cloud saves would certainly justify having a second splatoon game on the same console, as much as im loving that it exists

hopefully theres a global testfire again

sooner or later the workers will rise up and kill mr grizz

remember in splatoon 1 where if you had squid beatz (via the amiibo) you could “play” it in the lobby and change the music? then you were stuck listening to only bubble bath in splatoon 2? why did they take that option away they should bring it back

looking at those apartment buildings in the trailer i think it would be cool if you had your own room and could decorate it

an octavio redemption arc would be fun to see. in the manga he stole the zapfish because the octarians had an energy crisis, and in the end they worked out a deal to share the electricity

[moonchildsaurora]

The social butterfly of a Tech Genius

»»—— Crew Member #6 of Space Pirates ATEEZ ——««

all aboard The Perihelion, welcome to the co-pilot’s log system! here you’ll be able to access the crew’s profiles should you wish to read about their journeys: (no nsfw content)

[CAPTAIN] [2] [3] [4] [5] [6] [7] [8]

an underestimated intellect with huge love for the cyber world and technology  

you hear him before you see him in a crowd

a Drex’un who was born and lived his life in the technology-thriving city of Vollurn up until he was invited to join Hongjoong and Seonghwa on their journey

[database file: Drex’uns are often described as demon-borne even though not all bloodlines are derived from infernal ancestry. Purely for the fact that prominent horns protude from their heads, a prehensile tail that’s used for grabbing things and will coil around their legs when upset/nervous, sharp canines and eye colours that cover the entire sclera. Depending on bloodline, some Drex’uns have elemental abilities]

Mingi isn’t sure about his bloodline as he never knew his parents, though his intelligence goes far beyond that of an average being’s. Not only does he process knowledge extremely fast, his memory is remarkable; able to recall even the tiniest details and his ability to analyse/break codes allows him to have free reign in the cyber networks

his teal-coloured horns and tail have onyx gradient tips, adorned with a few gold jewellery (his actual ears are also pierced with hoops) to complement his molten gold eyes

making heads turn, be it for his energetic presence or fashionable attire; “just because I grew up on the streets doesn’t mean I have no pride for my looks”

learnt to be resourceful and street-smart at a young age, knows all the short cuts and side alleys of the city like the back of his hand (he’s had a lot of time to wander around). Also found out that he had a knack for by-passing security systems whenever he needed shelter for the night

frequents the ‘Merripalace Arcade’ where it’s both an underground hangout for tech whizzes and the cyber battlegrounds for competitive players. The first visit gave him a taste of a different kind of freedom and an introduction to the world of hacking. It’s probably one of the few places he’s felt a part of a community; no judgement of your species nor your background but rather your digital reputation is more valued and the sort of technological talents you bring to the network

if there’s one thing Mingi is a natural at it’s socialising, he could walk into a club alone and come back out later with a new social circle if he so wishes

“ok who DON’T you know here?”

“just look at that face, how can you say no to him?” – Mingi is walking proof that Drex’uns can pull off the puppy-dog face and get away with it

he was gifted a second-hand mirage drive by Einux, a Nagzoid [database file: a reptilian humanoid being with serpent ancestry so they tend to have more snake-like features] who became a shot-term mentor figure after Mingi unintentionally helped crack a system code for a database Einux was commissioned to work on (because Mingi thought that guy was just really bad at math on first glance)

[database file: a mirage drive is pretty much a miniature tablet with a hologram touch-screen and every tech whizz would protect theirs with their lives; especially when were layers of secret activities and programs stored into it]

“you remembered to wipe clean the data trail and replace the originals with the dud files right?”

“yeah of course...does planting a virus in the system that will cause ‘Time Warp’ to play every time they try to click open a file counts?”

“Mingi, I…….”  

Einux introduced Mingi to his network of contacts and helped set him up with his first commission, safe to say Mingi was at a loss for words when he got his first pay up front (and that was just the deposit)

by the time Yunho had come across Mingi at the Tech Institute, he had been in the cyber scene for 4+ years already and never once had to deal with someone catching him in the act  

Mingi.exe has stopped working

he’s met a couple of Sheirzois before but he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t lowkey checking out the blue-haired giant whilst panicking on the inside, he’d argue there’s always time to appreciate beauty

two options popped into his mind then and there; either he bribed his way out (as his mentor taught him) or he attempted to maybe throw some punches and then make a getaway

(expectation) looks like he’s intimidating & can fight vs. (reality) he’d probably cry if he hit someone & is just a soft boy all-round

extra trivia: ironically for an infernal being, Mingi doesn’t deal well with anything supernatural/ghosts-related. Once Woo and Yeosang pranked him, Yunho helped a little but he doesn’t need to know, and convinced him that the basement storage hanger was haunted after totems started appearing in odd places along with ominous noises. Mingi was so ready to abandon ship before Hongjoong did damage control & Jongho promised he’d fight all the ghosts for him 

was already metaphorically weeping at the thought of having to empty his money pouch but turned out that Otis (his multi-coding bot) had somehow manage to win the Sheirzoi over along with an invite to drinks

“I’ve got many questions for you regarding your efficiently adorable bot”

“…and I to you as well, BUT first do you have a name? And secondly have you been to ‘Le Apollon’? Coz if not they make some really mean Northern Drops there!”

Yunho turned out to be one of the most chilled individual Mingi has met and he didn’t mind the other’s enthusiastic discussions about all technological inventions, and was even just as enthusiastic to share with Yunho about his own passion for cyber tech

one too many drinks later Mingi was accidentally spilling secrets he definitely wasn’t meant to and even ended up dancing on the table at some point, all while Yunho hyped his new friend up on the side

was forever grateful that Yunho never ratted him out to the authorities and consider him shook for the 2nd time in that day when he was offered a roof over his head, a more permanent one too

“do you want to be the big spoon, or is it my turn? We can rotate!” 

thus the bromance of all bromances was born

living with Yunho not only meant Mingi would wake up to good vibes, but more than often would wake up to either the screeching of the smoke alarm or “HOLY SMOKES WHERE ARE THE WATER PODS? DID WE RUN OUT OF THEM? AGAIN?!”

putting out accidental fires became second nature to Mingi, initially he’d aggressively fret over Yunho but now he’s come to accept such is the life of a chaotic bright inventor and this is fine

in fact when Hongjoong and Seonghwa came across their humble abode (thanks to Yunho’s cleaning bot) it was an iconic first meeting over smoke. Yunho did most of the talking when Hongjoong pitched his desire to recruit a crew for space voyage, Mingi too busy sitting there staring at the two new-comers with shooting stars in his eyes and hearing about the prospects of an adventure. Within that day the crew had gain 2 more members, because Mingi and Yunho are a combo package deal

“oh has the system be glitching? If you don’t mind, would you like me to have a look at it?”

Hongjoong did a happy dance on the spot knowing that not only did he now have a talented inventor on his ship but also a gifted tech genius, he put Mingi in charge of managing the mainframe systems along with intel collecting this decision that Hongjoong would later semi-regret because (at times) the word “self-control” doesn’t seem to exist in Mingi’s vocab

Seonghwa adopted him and Yunho pretty easily and space mum’s cooking is Mingi’s fave, occasionally using his puppy-dog face he’s perfected over the years to his advantage in gaining extra midnight snacks (being everyone’s baby, no one’s really immune to this)

“Hwa you’re supposed to be the one disciplining the kids!”

Mingi and Yunho were known to be the chaotic fun duo, but with Wooyoung is just chaotic – not to mention he got his Yunhogizer confiscated by Hongjoong for almost a week after, “I thought we were all comparing assets, Wooyoung sent his to the group chat so I figured this was some kind of crew bonding”

also was one half of the reason that the ‘whatever happens at the Tav/clubs, stays at the Tav/clubs’ rule got implemented and one-night sexytimes were banned aboard The Perihelion after Jongho witnessed a random still semi-nude humanoid trying to sneak out of Mingi’s room without being noticed (Hwa went on parent-mode and panicked yell whilst covering Jongho’s eyes)

Jongho avoided Mingi (out of sheer embarrassment) for a few days and that was pretty devastating, considering how close the two became in their friendship that Mingi was one of the very few people in the crew whom Jongho was openly clingy with at times

no one can argue about Mingi’s loyalty to his crew/new family, and under his care-free flamboyant exterior he’s a genuine listener and will not hesitate to offer his shoulder for his family to lean on whenever they need it

recently he’s created new software to enhance Seonghwa’s cybernetic lenses (as a birthday gift) that’d allow him to see clearly miles ahead, in the dark and lock-on tracking function. What Mingi failed to let Hwa know was that he still hasn’t disconnected the sync link to his mirage drive and therefore if, for example, an image was sent through it’d appear in the other user’s field of vision

“wait for it, wait”

“what exactly are we waiting for Mingi? And why are you giggling over a screaming pink…starfish?” (that’s Patrick Star by the way)

seconds later there was a clamouring from the bathroom, the solid sound of someone falling before, “MINGI!”

“that my good lads, is what we were wa-oh whoops gotta go!”  

(moodboard made with love, by @s1ardusk​ ♡)

[best357revolver]

Safe Gun Storage in Home

My Premium GunsHave you any idea precisely where firearms are stored at residence? Storing firearms safely within your home or flat is really essential. Guns always have to be kept in a manner that restricts unauthorized access. You whilst the gun owner have a responsibility to maintain them outside from the hands. It's likely you could possibly be held responsible for bad things which happen as a consequence of failing to fasten your own gun. Therefore also to guard yourself from theft, then it's a fantastic concept to maintain firearms securely stored at house. There are several diverse processes for efficiently storing firearms and storing them out from the hands. A couple of options are freestanding safes, miniature gun safes, and builtin gun room/closet.

They stay up right in their particular when added to a flat surface, and so are enclosed on either side with the exception of a single doorway, which is opened by either entering a secret combination. All these dividers, based upon the size and size, may take between six and many dozen firearms, records, and valuables. Some of the benefits of a freestanding gunsafe is it may be employed to store records and other valuables along with firearms. The walls of those safes also can occasionally be ventilated using a non-metallic material, that may help protect your firearms and valuables regarding a house fire. Fire resistance evaluations for all these safes are typically quantified in the amount of moments that the safe can defy the warmth of a fully-involved residence flame. You may expect to fork out a few hundred dollars to get an entry door safe which doesn't have any fire protection and narrow partitions. Bigger safes and people that have fireresistant qualities can cost between $600 and $2,500 dollars, based on size and flame resistance evaluation.

Most apparatus used to store firearms, are fastened with a mix as opposed to the usual key because keys could collapse in to the incorrect hands. Combinations can't belong to the wrong hands till they're distributed to the others or written down. But folks could find a way to see on your shoulder and also determine what the combination is when they truly are in precisely the exact same room and also have the ability to see that you open the safe. Safes could be designed with mechanical combination locks (ordinarily the lower-cost safes possess them ) or electronic combination locks having a 10-digit keypad. It's generally likely to replicate these electronic combination locks having a brand new combination. If at all possible, it's a fantastic idea to alter the combination to a gunsafe occasionally (every ninety days or everytime you believe some one may have experienced you open it). Additionally, there are safes available on the marketplace which have biometric scanning apparatus installed on the fasten. All these are programmed to learn a finger or thumbprint, making them more secure than other forms of locking mechanisms.

"Mini" gun safes really are a choice for people that require quick-access to among these smaller firearms, or for people that own only a gun for home defense. These forms of safes on average cost between $150 and $300 according to the sort of fastener and degree of security (the people who have Biometric scanners will normally charge more). They're generally large enough to put up you full-sized pistol like for instance a Ruger GP 100, Springfield XD9 or even Glock 2 1. The best thing about this sort of safe is it is more affordable when compared to the usual bigger safe but nonetheless will help maintain 1 gun from their hands. These designs can be found in models which take a seat on a level working surface and in models which may be installed or recessed to a wall socket.

In the event you acquire a safe for the house, you ought to pick the positioning to it very attentively. You could well not need to own it out at the great outdoors, since this may promote those who view it there clearly was a weapon indoors; this will encourage break ins, as thieves want to sneak things which can easily be re sold such as firearms and electronics. You need to locate your rifle safe in the area or room at which you're likely to be throughout a breakin, or at the area or room at which you might be likely to move to when some thing awful happens. By way of instance, if there's just a central hall way away from outside doors you may in all probability walk if you hear a noise in the midst of night, which could possibly be a very good area to mount a brightly miniature wall-safe (you could even mount this kind of safe inside a wall, and hang a picture infront of it unless you need folks to be careful of it). Check with the community police force division and learn what sorts of breakins normally occur on your area. Notably ask questions regarding the time daily breakins occur. You maybe surprised to see in lots of cases which breakins often happen during your daytime as opposed to at the centre of nighttime. This being said, together with your comprehension of exactly what times daily you're normally at house, could have an effect on the place you opt to set a quick-access safe. If most break ins on your town happen through the nighttime time, mounting a miniature quick-access safe in your bed side desk may be wise. If you hope that some one may decide to try to break while you're in the office at house office in which spent the majority of one's daily life, then you should probably maintain the safe in this location.

For another degree of security, many safes have the capacity to be straightened to a ground or a wall socket in order they cannot be readily stolen or transferred. That is particularly essential when thinking of purchasing a"Mini" gunsafe. As a"Mini" safe can be readily carried off to some other location and broken open, so it's crucial that you bolt these forms of safes firmly to a desk, wall, or in the drawer in order they can't be discharged or proceeded easily.

An alternative for security will be always to safeguard your firearms in just a secured cabinet or space. Cabinet doors along with interior-room doors in just a property are generally colorless double-wall hollow structure and won't endure to much misuse. If a person wishes to undergo some of the doors, then they'll achieve this without a lot of trouble. But you can replace a cupboard door or room doorway with a powerful, wood or metal door to ensure it is tougher to breakin. The benefit of the system is that in case you own a whole lot of firearms and in addition possess a downstairs attic room which includes concrete walls, then you also can save yourself a little money by switching an extra room to some secure"Gun Space" instead of paying $5,000 to $10,000 on a lot of gun dividers. The drawback for this system is you may spend as much money on a brand new doorway and door lock because you'd spend to a safe which could hold a couple of dozen firearms, which means that you would have to get plenty of firearms in order for this to make sense financially. There's still another consideration - you need to NOT fasten the cupboard or room door with a keyed lock (keys might be lost or left un secured ) and also you can't look at going this path without installing a thick exterior-style doorway or even commercialgrade steel doorway. You ought not look at doing so to some rooms .

You can also hear or see gun racks which can be secured or gun racks which have provisions for procuring guns by attaching them together with wire locks. These varieties of gun stands would be the cheapest solution aside from leaving a rifle lying out in the great outdoors. They could readily be taken from walls till they've been straightened right into wall studs. A number of those racks are produced from timber, that will be not difficult to crack or cut . Most usually do not forbid a gun away from being fired or loaded when it's secured in to the stand alone. There can be a few men and women who believe this is really a secure enough way to their specific situation, in general it isn't secure to store firearms in a stand, one which will be secured.

Bear in mind that if considering unique solutions, you may on average get everything you buy - that is particularly valid while looking for gun storage. The cheapest gunsafe is going to be much smaller, poorer and easier to split, and also offer the best amount of security against fire damage. Deciding on a fantastic new is also important, as you wish to buy an excellent unit that's perhaps not likely to mistake or neglect. Some trusted manufacturers offer far better variants of particular models or sizes than some other manufacturers, plus a few businesses might provide certain features while some don't. As an instance, during the article's writing, businesses including Remington, Browning and American Security tend to be focused on making larger safes using electronic keypad combination code access, whereas businesses like Barska offer services and products which are smaller (holding you to about three pistols) and therefore are built with Biometric fingerprint scanner access control.

Hopefully this info can allow you to make an educated decision regarding where and how to store firearms at dwelling. Don't forget to converse to all relatives about the value of gun safety and educate them about basic theories. Everybody else must treat every gun as though it were filled and maintain the rifle pointed in a safe way; not point a gun in any man or any such thing that you don't desire to take; maintain your finger away from the trigger; also keep and store firearms away and off from compost if at all possible. Establish together with relatives a method of things to do should they find a gun which isn't locked securely, or should they realize that a gunsafe isn't completely closed and secured. Normally the very best steps to follow would be to leave the area immediately and inform a parent or adult straight away in order they are able to look after the matter.

My Premium Guns

My Premium Gunshop is a indoor firing range, full-service gun shop and your one-stop shop for all things Law Enforcement, Military, Security, Fire, EMS and miscellaneous everyday gear! We pride ourselves in excellent customer service and we work hard to provide the very best pricing on all of our products and services.

Phone: +1 000 000 0000

Email: sales@mypremiumgunshop.com

Location-United State

[journeysintowebcomics]

Worm Liveblog #117

UPDATE 117: No Help for Anybody

Last time Francis had a feeling they had been transported into another world altogether, thanks to the Simurgh causing havoc and what not. It was shown she has the capacity of making portals, after all! Now let’s continue.

The two-or-maybe-three-if-Cody-is-Ballistic Travelers are exploring the neighborhood, trying to find help for those who need medical attention. There are monsters prowling around, and there’s a lot of noise out there that hint things are looking mighty bad. If they go in the wrong direction, I really don’t think they’ll be okay. They have no powers for the time being, after all.

During their walk, they hear something that sounded like a scream. Marissa immediately suggests they should go help whoever screamed, while Cody argued that’d be putting themselves in danger and therefore should ignore the scream. Francis, being the tie-breaker, decides to go help whoever screamed – not because he’s feeling particularly charitable, but because there’s a small chance whoever is in need of help has medical knowledge they can take advantage of. Good reason as any to go help someone, really!

Without waiting for Cody to argue this further, Francis starts running in direction of where the scream came from.

Turns out the screaming came from a fast food restaurant that has been boarded up. Inside there are a few people, trying to be safe from the monsters roaming outside, but they weren’t successful. One of the people is currently trapped by one of the monsters. Say...

The monsters included a man with a neck three times the usual length and a gnarled hump on his back that was plated in armor.   His arms split in two at the elbow, with one set of hands and one set of limbs that ended in built-in scythes.  He was perched on a table, cackling.  His jacket was clearly borrowed, ill-fitting around his hump, and he kept having to push the sleeves up so they wouldn’t cover his hands or weapons.

His partner held their victim, the ninth person in the room.  She was big, maybe seven feet tall, and heavy in a way that met some middle ground between being muscular and being fat.  Big boned might have been the most apt way to describe her, in a literal sense.  Her skin was thick, her features blunt: she had a porcine nose and cauliflower ears, her fingers were stubby and her lips so fat that they curled away from her comparatively tiny teeth.  She might have weighed four hundred pounds, and the way she was easily holding her victim in the air suggested she was strong enough to kill someone with one good punch.  She wore only a set of grays that looked like a prisoner uniform.  He could make out the first half of the word that was printed across her shoulders: GWER-.

Rounding out the group was a young woman.  Something was off about her, besides the obvious physical changes.  Thick black horizontal lines striped her body, crossing her eyes like a blindfold, extending from the corners of her mouth, lining her chin and tracing down her neck.  By the time they reached her fingers, her skin was more black than white. She wore the same prison grays, but had donned a jacket and boots.  Her blond hair was straight, her bangs cut severely across her forehead.

I’m sorry for copypasting everything, but I wanted to get the descriptions here. It’s weird...they’re not as...inhuman as I expected when it was mentioned they were monsters. Frankly, they don’t sound too dissimilar to how some parahumans look like, especially those that suffer strong mutations. I also notice they have some sort of clothing, hm...

Could it be these monsters were brought from another world with parahumans? That the Simurgh targeted a parahuman prison, and brought its inhabitants here? I mean, it’s not too farfetched. Parahumans can look real strange, like Crawler. Compared to him, these aren’t too bad.

It seems like one of these three isn’t entirely on board with the ‘tormenting civilians’ thing. Matryoshka, she’s called. The other two push a civilian towards her, expecting her to do something. Most likely use her power, with effects currently unknown to the Travelers and to me.

Looks like Matryoshka can...fold people into herself? Perhaps as a manner of storage, or to take something from them? Sure would fit her name. It’s temporary, though, at most a couple hours, and these three intend to use her powers to escape the quarantine. They’re as good as dead, there’s no way they’ll be captured and sent to the Birdcage. Given how they arrived into this world, they’re going to be executed.

Now that I think about it, the Travelers are real lucky they’re alive in the present How exactly did they manage to escape the quarantine? They don’t even have powers right now, they’re just civilians! Even harder to escape! Maybe they found a guard who sympathizes with them, someone who wasn’t aware they’re incredibly dangerous or didn’t have the willpower not to help them. Hm.

Since there’s a chance one of the people Matryoshka is about to fold may have medical knowledge to save Noelle and Luke, Francis jumps forth, going right ahead and stabbing one of the monsters-or-most-likely-parahumans. Good thing he carried a long weapon! Lets him keep his distance. He does rather well, for someone who would be pretty doomed in any other situation. The guy with the scythes is defeated, Matryoshka is targeted next.

No, Krouse made himself stop, took an account of what he was doing.  He was getting carried away.  He turned to run.

That reminds me, what is everyone else in this place doing? Are Mars and Cody hiding and letting Francis put himself in danger? I mean, that’s kind of the right thing to do – putting yourself in deadly danger is not smart – but I admit by now I expected someone to have intervened and tried to take Francis away.

The guy with the hump says Francis is brave and stupid – guilty as charged, really – and apparently decide to take him along? They’re talking a language I’m not sure if it’s invented or if it exists. Putting it into Google Translator gives me Gaelic, but it doesn’t give me a translation anyway. I guess that means it’s gibberish Mr. Wildbow made up?

Turns out Matroyshka does kind of absorb things from the people she folds! No indication if she decides what she takes or not. Either way, the monsters pin Francis down, and due to the stress of having the Simurgh’s weird-ass singing and having a scythe on his face, he kind of lets himself be taken by the song, and starts to reminisce.

“Noelle,” he mumbled.

“Francis?”

He winced.  “Call me Krouse.  Everyone but my mom does.”

“Krouse,” Noelle tried the word. “Okay.  You want something?”

“Just wanted to talk.  When we were marking each other’s papers in class, I got yours.  I just wanted to say I like the way you think.”

Sounds like this may be the first time Francis and Noelle met. So that may be how the Simurgh manipulates people’s emotions to make them lash out and react...she makes them remember specific moments. Alright!

This first meeting didn’t really go well. Noelle and Francis certainly didn’t hit off right away, she seems to have been kind of cold towards him when he compliments her way of thinking. Mars soon approaches, and she’s also cold. I mean, I can certainly imagine Francis is kind of grating because...he’s kind of a jerk, but part of me wonders if this memory was tampered somehow. Wouldn’t be out of the question when it’s about the Simurgh making remember stuff.

“So I know exactly what to watch out for with you,” Marissa said.  “At any given point in time, you’re pulling some nefarious prank, you’re manipulating others to get what you want, you’re making someone else look bad-”

Tampered or not, she’s saying the truth, haha!

This little flashback also shows how Francis got into the gaming group, she overhead them talking about it, and looks like Noelle got curious about if Francis played. Looks like Francis already knew Luke somewhat, too. Friends already? Regardless, the flashback is over when Mars screams, and not in the memory.

There’s Mars! Currently getting tossed around like a ragdoll. No sign of Cody. Maybe he died already. So, it seems it’s not Mars getting thrown around what made Francis fight again, it’s that they interrupted his reminiscing. Geez! And so he reacts like many people would like to react when someone wakes them up from a pleasant dream: displeased. And by displeased I mean holy crap, Francis, don’t stick your fingers into someone’s fresh wound.

He doesn’t hold himself back! He cuts the scythe guy’s throat. I’m blaming the Simurgh for this rather sudden burst of violence.

There’s Cody! Backed into a corner. Matryoshka doesn’t seem to be doing well, and the other monster is getting closer to Francis. Once he tells everyone to run and scatter, he runs too, and the monster keeps chasing him, without much trouble, until he has no option but to fight.

He stabbed at her hand with the knife, and felt a fierce agony tear through his own hand.

Blood welled out from his palm, warm as it ran down his arm to his elbow.  Krouse screamed.

No, he didn’t stab himself in his own hand while he was trying to fight back – although I’m sure that’d happen to a lot of people. What happens is that this woman’s parahuman power is to reflect back damage. Doesn’t make her impervious, it just reflects back. That’s going to be a pain to fight, no pun intended.

Or not! A pair of parahumans take care of this, and not lightly. They pretty much set her on fire, and it doesn’t seem like the damage reflection activated, or they had a way to counter it. Oh well. What matters is that that woman is now deceased, and Francis is in no danger anymore.

His immediate action is to ask for help for Noelle. He doesn’t get to ask for it before getting interrupted.

“That was reckless,” Myrddin said, speaking over Krouse.  “Attacking when we didn’t know the particulars of her power.”

I mean, when has Francis ever done something that’s a good idea against people with powers. Some things never change. One paragraph later, it turns out that was directed at the guy who set her on fire, not at Francis. Anyway! Brushing aside this embarrassing moment for me!

Francis keeps asking for help, they keep ignoring his words, instead notifying Dragon someone is in need of medical attention.

“Two hundred feet away, down your four o’clock, Armsmaster.”

Oh! This is Armsmaster! How neat. Here, let me amend what I said not long ago: “I mean, when has Armsmaster ever done something that’s a good idea at all”. Not thinking things through was his MO. He’s somewhat getting better at that now that Dragon is around.

“How are we for exposure?”

“You two are good for another seventeen minutes at the exposure you’re facing.  Twenty if we push it.  I can have a flight unit to you shortly.”

Aha, so it’s at least seventeen minutes before someone exposed to the Simurgh’s song is considered doomed and needs to be killed, I think. Well there’s absolutely no doubt to me by now Francis and pals have crossed the threshold already. It must have been around a couple hours. Funny how life can change that much in the matter of just a couple hours.

The fight against the Simurgh is going well, somehow, and they’re doubling down quarantine, most likely to ensure any parahumans brought by the portals don’t escape the perimeter. Dragon also notifies they’re taking some sort of measure, and the parahuman who is with Armsmaster – Myrddin, she’s called. I think I have heard that name before? – doesn’t like that measure, even asking Dragon to argue back. Dragon, in all her AI glory, states she’s just following orders.

I was about to ask if Armsmaster and Myrddin just ignoring Francis standing right there to a side, but then I reread and noticed Francis seems to have been turned into some kind of ghost. Trying to keep him hidden from the heroes, hm! Not that it’s a bad thing, Francis may be left for dead for all the exposure to the Simurgh. No wonder he wasn’t being listened to, he’s like...transparent now.

Among the rubble of the stuff that fell into this world, there’s a building that seems to have been part of a laboratory. Armsmaster wants to take a look and deduce from where all this came from, but Myrddin insists they have to get done with their task and get out. Minimize exposure, you know! And since the consequence of not doing that is, you know, death, I agree with her.

“I get bad interactions if I transition something in of one of my dimensions and back, or if I take things out of one dimension and put them into another.  It doesn’t compartmentalize into the dimension properly if it’s been elsewhere too recently.  Whether these people and objects came from somewhere halfway across the globe or some pocket dimension, I don’t think we want to test our luck and risk something disastrous.”

Krouse startled at that.  Is that what happened to me?  Some bad interaction of interdimensional crap?

Pretty unlikely. If Myrddin had used her power on him, I think she’d have said something, or Armsmaster would have noticed. Unless Francis means he being in this world in the first place, in which case, yeah, that’s what happened to you. Blame the flying Endbringer over there.

Is Armsmaster suggesting to use white phosphor for something? Because that’s not a good omen. My immediate thought is that he’s suggesting they use white phosphor to obliterate the perimeter. Needless to say, everyone and everything inside is toast if they do. I once read a book that had white phosphorus used, and the description of the effect was anything but pleasant. Better get out while you can, Francis, seems to me time’s running out.

Once Myrddin and Armsmaster leave, Francis is once again taken by his memories, this time of a less happy moment, when Noelle is unhappy and he doesn’t know why. She’s even saying the ‘it’s not you, it’s me’ routine. They’re a pair, so this can’t be a breakup – a successful one, at least. The wording does hint she wants to get away from him, and that he has been a great person.

When she said she herself was why she wanted to break up, she meant it. Francis doesn’t have the slightest idea what she’s talking about, but judging by...

“Someone said, a little while ago,” Noelle spoke without looking at Krouse, “That I can’t really forge a good relationship with others until I have a good relationship with myself.”

...this, there’s something about herself she doesn’t like. Must be something rather big, if she can’t bring herself to have good relationship with others because of it.

Francis is being nice for once and is trying his best to be encouraging, telling her that she’s fantastic, but she insists they shouldn’t date. That opinion doesn’t change when Francis adds Noelle’s been happier ever since they started dating, and it’s not a platitude, Mars has said that too. But if Noelle says they should break up because this is bad for her, then he’s willing to accept it. Seriously, this has got to be the nicest Francis has been towards anyone in this entire story.

He even offers to leave the gaming team. She doesn’t want him to, and even tells him to forget she even mentioned this, conveniently leaving her thoughts a mystery to the reader. What could it be she’s feeling about herself that makes her dislike herself so much?

The memory ends, and Francis finds himself already rooting into the fallen laboratory, deciding to look around to see if there’s anything that could be of help, like a first aid kit. Well that’s going to be useful for Luke, but Noelle’s going to need something far better than that, if he finds any.

His eyes settled on a metal briefcase beneath the desk, within a few feet of the dead man’s hand.

His fingers crossed for a portable case of medical supplies, he set it down on the desk and popped it open.  Disappointment overwhelmed him.

Six metal canisters recessed in black foam with slots cut out to hold them, paperwork was set in a flap in the lid.

He swore.

…newly purchased superpowers…

...

...

...

...well seeing how Alexandria got better from a terminal disease after getting superpowers, I guess that counts as something far better. She got a much worse deal than Alexandria did, though. Everything in Worm has been a continuous source of grief for her. She’s not happy with Francis because of how she feels about herself, she gets concussions and internal bleeding, and when she gets to have some sort of superpower, she gets one that’s so bad she has to be locked in a vault out of fear she’s going to destroy everything. Worm treats Noelle rather cruelly.

Also, I absolutely love how Armsmaster almost may have been able to stop the creation of an entire villain team if he had been allowed to check the laboratory. Thanks a lot, Myrddin, you are indirectly responsible for the creation of like five new villains. Stellar work. At least Armsmaster only created one!

Francis confirms these are certainly superpowers in a vial – courtesy of Cauldron, no doubt. Does Cauldron know the Travelers gained their powers from their serums? I imagine they may know, surely they must keep a record of what powers get sold.

Taking the metal case with him, Francis decides to return back to the rest of his friends and also Cody, unwittingly kickstarting some rather unfun days for them all except whoever won’t be part of the Travelers. Fun how a series of coincidences led to that. Seriously, so much happened because Francis was in the right place at the right time.

I’m still unsure what happened with Francis turning all intangible and invisible earlier, though. Was it really Myrddin, accidentally doing that? Or was it someone else? I don’t have it clear at all, I admit. If someone can send me a message about it I’d be real grateful.

Ending the update here!

Next time: next update

[sergeantscribble]

Hidden Truth

Since I’m leaving for a few days (and I’m also very inpatient), here is the story! Tada.

(I hope the basics of this AU are somewhat understandable throughout the story, because I have planned more stories for this AU and giving you some extra information may give away what’s about to come.)

Have fun reading!

- - - - - -

It’s rare to see an angel’s wings.

This has been common knowledge since people knew about the existence of angels. They would always hide their wings and their halos. Their halos were simply too bright to look at; people would go blind. And their wings were too fragile to be even seen by a person. The wings of an angel tell you a lot about them. The more black feathers they have, the more they have sinned. The more feathers they have lost, the more they got hurt. A bigger and more noble pair of wings meant that the angel was higher ranked. This of course did not mean that an eminent angel’s wings could not have black, broken or lost feathers. Some with the brightest, shiniest, almost golden feathers have the deep-darkest black feathers. The more elevated the angel is, the more frivolous they are as a demon. A good angel makes a bad demon.

While people know that angels exist and walk among them, it is difficult to spot one. Unless they decide that someone is worthy, they will hide their identity.

It seemed like Shane was finally selected to see an angel’s wings, although he wished the circumstances were different. He really wished that Ryan wasn’t risking his life right now, and therefore had to get rid of his cover. And he really wished he wouldn’t have to do this next.

They have been discussing new haunted locations for BuzzFeed Unsolved. It turned out that constantly finding new locations that were somewhat easy to reach was getting harder the longer you’ve done this and the more sets you have already visited. So, they needed more money to be able to travel further away and visit more places. The problem was, in a capitalist state, big companies don’t like giving away their money.

Shane leaned back in his chair, yawning, listening to what the others had to say. He never understood the concept of capitalism. Why would someone assign a certain amount of value to something? Or just the whole concept of money. Who the fuck looked at a piece of paper and thought to themselves “I shall now  exchange this for food! And everyone will follow my example!” But, then again, it wasn’t his problem. All he had to do was to adapt to those rules and act like they were normal, and he would be fine. Dare he said, he was quite good at acting human. Sure, sometimes he did not quite fit in, but he tried his best, and apparently, it worked. Most people just thought he was weird, which was good enough for him. No one really questioned him and his actions in a serious matter and that’s all he wanted.

However, there was one thing bothering him. It was the people accusing him of being a demon. When he first read one of these theories, he thought he was in serious trouble and that people really did find out that, well, he was a demon. He ignored those comments at first, but at the same time, Ryan started acting differently around him as well. It wasn’t anything grave, it was just like he was more observant and careful around him. Shane was pretty sure he just imagined this because he was more observant and careful and projected this onto his friend as well, but it didn’t really matter now. He eventually found out that those people were just joking and making fun of his strange behaviour, and everything was fine again. After all, anyone finding out that he was not as human as he pretended to be, could lead up to some serious problems. But Shane didn’t like to think about this. Or anything regarding his spiritual friends and foes in general. He liked being left alone in the human world. Things were easier here, and more fun. A lot of demons ridiculed him for this point of view, but he didn’t listen to them. Different beings like different things, and Shane definitely enjoyed a calm and peaceful life on Earth.

… Okay, he couldn’t deny that he also missed being surrounded by demons. Not enough to actually go back to hell, but enough to have spent some nights thinking about the what if’s. Luckily his good old friend Ryan Bergara offered him a chance to connect those things without knowing about it. They could be paranormal investigators. Perfect. And the people loved it! Really, he could not have wished for more.

It was dangerous at times, yes. Sometimes he had annoyed a ghoul too much in the past and now he had to be careful to not give this spirit the opportunity to show the world who, or what he really was. Sometimes a demon simply could not stand him. And some just thought it would be funny to mess with him. Thinking about it again, most investigations went like this. Actually, he couldn’t recall a single session which did not go like this. He really didn’t have any friends in hell, did he? Ah well, it did not matter anyway.

Back to the topic. Finding new locations. Yeah. Sometimes it was annoying that he couldn’t use his abilities which would make things so much easier. In the blink of an eye this room could be filled with money. Or they could be right in front of a different building before they noticed that they have left the room. And with a bit more effort, Shane could bring the ghouls to them. But all of this would blow his cover, so they were stuck with the true devil’s work: bureaucracy. Unfortunately he wasn’t even in a position where he could let others do the work for him. And what was almost worse was the fact he had to be careful when he did use his powers to make things a bit… simpler. At least Ryan was there, too, and he wouldn’t have to do all the talking himself.

After a lot of arguing, convincing and evaluating, they were granted more money for trips. And with this bonus, they could start planning the next season.

That was a few weeks ago. Today, they were filming the season finale. Despite this, it was not like today was an unusual day. It was, in fact, quite usual. A very ordinary day. Apart from the demon hunting part. But that was nothing special as well. Hell, if only the people would know how many demons they have already walked past during their lives…

Shane had a tough time focusing. He honestly was somewhat uneasy. He… wasn’t on good terms with this demon. Messed a bit too much with the wrong guy. He hasn’t seen them in… a few hundred years, so maybe they have forgotten about him already. But Shane was afraid that this would not be the case, and that he maybe had to defend himself, which would not exactly help keep his cover up. Maybe, just maybe, everything would turn out okay nevertheless.

Surprisingly, for a demon they were well-behaved. They definitely had fun with Ryan and Shane, being one of the most active demons they’ve ever encountered, but they never went too far. Shane should be relieved. After all, they didn’t blow his cover. But this doubtless meant that they would let Shane suffer once they were alone. This was not exactly something worth looking forward to.

Which is why Shane decided to use this break for something useful and tried to find the demon. Maybe apologizing or making up for what happened in the past or something similar would make the solo investigations easier, and he would not have to delete half the footage before anyone could see it. Problem was, his time was limited. After all, this was just a short break to replace the batteries or check how much storage was left. This wasn’t enough time to hold a long conversation, talking about how everyone does stupid things when they’re younger and that others should be forgiving and not blow their covers. Shane really hoped no one would come looking for him, and if they did, not find him at an unfittingly time. He was confident that he could deal with this demon, but it would be very difficult to find a good explanation.

Much to his surprise, this plan did not seem to be one-sided. As soon as Shane left the room, he could feel a strong gust of wind which was clearly leading him somewhere. He had a bad feeling, but he didn’t have the time to reconsider his decisions. He did the one thing no one should ever do, and trusted the demon to lead him somewhere isolated, as it probably was not in their interest to get caught either.

As he was standing in front of a room, the wind suddenly stopped and instead, he could hear a voice whispering inaudible things to him. Nope, he really did not want to do this. But there really was no going back. So he entered the room.

“Hey there, old, uh… friend. Long time no see.”

He looked around the room, only being able to assume where his opponent was. A really annoying thing about demons was that they were able to merge with the shadows. In a dark room, just like the one Shane was standing it, this could mean they could be anywhere.

/What are you doing here, traitor?/

The voice seemed to be directly in his head, which made finding the source even more difficult. But it was an age-old trick and wouldn’t intimidate Shane one bit. It actually made him braver, knowing that the other demon was a coward who played with deceitful tricks.

“You’re here as well. Now show yourself. Or do ya want me to say mean things about you again?”

Shane made sure to put a lot of sarcasm in that last sentence, but the sudden pressure on his throat showed him that this may have been too much. Gee, demons sure didn’t know how to take a joke.

“Okay, okay, you can let me go again”, Shane quickly added, his voice a mere whisper. Talking was certainly not easy when you suddenly could not breathe anymore, but they had obviously understood Shane, as the pressure disappeared as fast as it had appeared.

“There was no need for that, really… Anyway, my buddy… can I ask you for a favour?”

He could basically hear the laughter echoing from the walls around him. Not to be a pessimist, but this would not end well.

/You? Why should I do anything for you?/

“Because we’re both demons, duh. And it’s about this whole” - Shane gestured around wildly - “ghost investigations thing. In short, please pretend you don’t know me.”

/That’s not hard, everytime someone mentions you I wish I didn’t know you./

“Yeah, haha, very funny, but this is serious. We’re filming this, and I can’t let anyone know that… I’m… a demon. A demon who knows you. But that’s not even really the problem, it’s more that it’s… my thing to mock all demons and ghosts and what-nots we encounter. The people think it’s entertaining. So if maybe you could keep your temper and not slam me against a wall, that’d be great.”

Then he saw how deep in the shadows, something started to shape. Firstly there were vague contours, it looked like the darkness was playing tricks on you, but then everything got more refined until you could make out the details. They definitely looked diferent than from what Shane remembered, which was not a good sign. And the way they moved towards him made it even worse. Oh, Madej, you’ve done it, you’re in trouble now.

Before he could do anything, he got slammed against one of the walls. “Ouch, ah, fuck dude… Okay, suggestion: We don’t fight, you leave me and my friends alone and we’ll act like this never happened! Sounds good to me.”

The demon scoffed at him, grabbed the collar of his shirt and lifted him up. “And let this opportunity go to waste? You will pay for betraying us. What did you just call those pesky humans? ‘Your friends’? You seem to be forgetting whose side you’re on, traitor. You’re a hopeless case. Maybe ending you would be the right thing to do…”

Shane grabbed the demon’s hands. “Wouldn’t that be paradoxic? You keep calling me traitor, even though I never betrayed any of you guys, and now you’re the one wanting to do the right thing by killing me, which, by hell’s rules, is considered a crime.”

For a second his opponent stared at him slightly confused, then angrily, and just as Shane wanted to escape, he flew through the room, again. Did this dude have any other tricks, preferably less painful ones?! He needed this body, after all. Although Shane had to admit that he deserved it for provoking them. Force of habit.

“You’re going to hell with me.”

“Stop right there!”

Shane was sure that neither of them turned around because of what has been said - hell, even he did it out of a reflex, and not because he recognized this voice - but rather because a third person, who was standing in the doorway, said it, slightly out of breath. Shit.

“Ryan?”

“Shane, you need to leave, now.”

As if this situation wasn’t bad enough already. Why the fuck did Ryan have to be here now too? This only made things more complicated, fucking hell!

“Aw, look who’s here to save you, it’s your little human friend.”

The demon stepped towards Ryan, and Shane immediately stood up and grabbed the demon by their arms to hold them back. “Ryan, you should be the one to leave…”

Instead of looking intimidated or something else fitting his character, he was smirking. Wait a second. Ryan was clearly standing in front of a demon, - okay, technically two demons, but who cared about the details - and he was not freaking out? Who was this person and what did they do to the original Boogara?

“Trust me, I’ve got this.”

And next he pulled out a little water gun which Shane knew too well. It was his little holy water protection gun. Oh yeah, that could be very painful and therefore very effective. But even if he was weaponed, this wasn’t the right place for Ryan to be. It was too dangerous.

“Yeah, no, give it to me, I’ll do the rest”, Shane said while quickly walking past his demonic foe in order to grab the gun, but he ended up being the one held back this time.

“Don’t you dare think I’ll let you off the hook this easily”, they said, and then almost whispered to him: “If this is what I think it is, you will be the one in trouble.”

At least Ryan seemed confidient. Understandably, after all he was not the one who had to be afraid of holy water. “Nothing can hurt you, you need to trust me.”

“I would, Ryan, but, uh… I hate being wet. And I’m sorry to say this, but I don’t trust you with this gun. It’s too risqué if you’d ask me.”

Then the demon spoke again. “Oh, you should trust your friend. After all, nothing can happen to you.”

Shane could not see their grin, but he could clearly hear it. What an asshole. And what a god-awful, shitty situation in general. Ryan was pointing a watergun filled with holy water at him, not knowing that he was a demon and even one drop of this stuff would be incomprehensibly painful. And right behind him was a demon who apparently wanted to see him dead. Great. Fucking fantastic. How on fucking earth should he escape this?!

And then he had an idea.

Oh, please, god, if you haven’t already completely given up… let this work.

Shane mouthed a ‘I will count to three. One, two, three’, and to hopefully make his message more clear, he mimicked his words via facial expressions as well.

Ryan seemed to have understood at least something, because he slightly nodded while re-positioning himself.

Alright. Cool.

This could go wrong. Terribly wrong. So fucking wrong, holy shit…

But he trusted Ryan. He trusted him to not take any risks with this shot. After all, he did not have an endless supply of holy water and therefore had to be careful not to spend too much.

One last, deep breath, and here goes nothing.

Shane counted silently to three, blinking along, and then ducked.

The next thing he heard was the screams of the demon, who had let go of him and must have stumbled back. This was his opportunity.

Shane turned around to fight this demon, but Ryan was faster than him. He pushed him aside, quickly telling him to run, and jumped on the demon.

But Shane stared at him instead, paralyzed, because he just noticed something he’s never seen before.

Ryan completely focused on defeating that demon. So much, that his cover gave up and slowly, a pair of white wings and a halo appeared.

What the fuck.

So… Ryan was an angel. Okay. Cool. Fine. Whatever. 

…

Holy fucking shit.

This was bullshit. What the fucking hell? How the fuck did he not notice that? How the fuck was that possible? That couldn’t- How the fuck- What the fuck- Fucking hell.

“You’re an angel”, Shane whispered subconciously, more to himself to make this situation a bit less bizarre. Which, of course, did not fucking work.

Ryan turned his head around. “What? Me? An ang-? I’m not-” Then Ryan realized that his… angelic features were visible.

“Okay, I-I’ll explain this afterwards.” And with that, Ryan focused on the demon again. Shane gulped, then waited a few seconds.

“You know what, Ryan? Leave him to me. I’m the one who’s in trouble with him.”

“No way, you can’t even defend yourself!”

“Trust me.”

Shane put his hand on Ryan’s shoulder, who glanced at him shortly, and then longer.

“Black wings…”, Ryan whispered. Shane nodded.

“Leave, I will take over from now on.”

Ryan kept looking at him completely flabbergasted, but did leave the room. And Shane quickly took his demonic foe to hell and dropped them off there.

When he left the room, he wasn’t surprised to see Ryan waiting for him. It did caught him a bit off guard to see him still without his cover, though.

“We have a lot to talk about, don’t we.”

“You’re a demon! Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Well, why didn’t you tell me that you’re an angel?”

“Okay, well played. I, I just can’t believe this. How could we be friends for years without knowing this?”

Shane shrugged. “Guess we’re good at keeping secrets.”

While saying this, he took a closer look at Ryan’s wings. They did look fairly average, but the white of his wings was a quite beautiful shade. His feathers did not look damaged, but there were a few black feathers in between the rest.

Ryan put on a slight smile. “Yeah, you’re probably right… Well, we should go back to the others, I bet they’re really angry at us.”

Shane laughed. “Oh yeah, definitely.”

And as they were walking back, Shane saw how another feather turned black before Ryan could hide his wings again.

They were in trouble. But not only with their team.

[bettsplendens]

3100 words of Five-Alarm having an entire breakdown because of, oh, I don’t know, basically all of his history. But especially the bit that was basically “you’re in a horror movie and you’re the last one alive, congrats”. 

Also features Patches, Bracer, and about 10 seconds of Duo the chemistry twins. 

“Okay, I’m here, what’s the- oh, goodness!”

Patches rather narrowly dodged as Scissors hurtled past him, Syringe right after, and watched as the twins bounced easily to their pedes. “-did he just throw you? Are you all right?”

  Scissors and Syringe tolerated being fussed over for a moment, dusting imaginary dust off each other to calm each other down, then huffed and stared over both of Patches’ shoulders into the room. “Cranky! Goodbye.”

  “-I did tell them that probably wouldn’t work,” Bracer contributed softly, peering rather cautiously into the storage room, and ducked out of the way before Five-Alarm could find something else to throw. “Sorry about the, uh, panicked call, but he’s kinda- look, he’s a mess, I-I don’t- I seriously don’t think we should leave him alone.”

Patches, moving a bit cautiously in case there was anybody else of throwing size anywhere in the room, ducked around Bracer and peered into the room. “Oh. Goodness. I thought something like this might happen eventually. Come on- we should probably move him somewhere else. It wouldn’t be so good if someone like, oh, oh dear, Longrange, tried to comfort him and got thrown. Though, honestly, I-I don’t… don’t really blame him for the whole… ‘throwing Duo out’ thing. They’re a lot, even when someone is feeling good. And they seem fine! They’re agile enough,” he sighed, and, ignoring the wordless snarl it earned him, trotted into the room. “Ohh, dear.”

  Five-Alarm had. Well. He wasn’t sure.

Panicked? It felt akin to a panic attack, he’d… had one or two of those, but with something entirely different. Not that he had much processor power left to consider it, not with-

With his entire systems going rather frantic in a desperate bid for help.                

Cybertronians cried tears of distress like many other species, but their optics also sparked. Happy tears sparked brightly when exposed to fire, distress tears caught flame and held, burning with a low-temperature, body-safe, clearly visible frame. If allowed to continue, they begun to singe patterns of soot along delicate faceplates, patterns that were hard to remove. It was an indicator of extreme stress and long-term distress, in that case. Meant to broadcast to everyone else that this bot needed help, and needed it now.

Not that Five-Alarm intended to show that. He’d clamped a forearm over his face, pushed his face into his elbow, covered his optics with both servos at one point (and highly regretted it, body-safe didn’t mean comfortable for medics’ servos), and still couldn’t find a way to hide everything. The tears escaped, the fire followed them, and the only result of hiding his face this way was to smear soot and flammable liquid all up and down his face and arm.

When Patches approached, Five-Alarm lifted his helm long enough to hiss, flaring his armor in what was meant to be an aggressive gesture but came across as more like a cornered animal trying to escape, and shoved himself further back into the corner with both pedes. “F-fuck oh-off,” he managed, kicking out at Patches, vents hitching fast and hard as he sobbed. He didn’t want them seeing him, dear Primus- he’d nearly managed to convince the other medics that he was at least semi-competent, and now he was sobbing in a corner for no evident reason, in a public place no less!

  “Oh, sweetie, it’s all right,” Patches sighed, moving in just a bit closer, and glanced over his shoulder at Bracer. “Look, we- you’re just going to get more and more upset if you stay out here and- and people see you, so- do you want to move? We can go to my soft room,” he coaxed, gentle and quiet, and let his field unfurl and brush softly against Five-Alarm. Alarm didn’t like strong field broadcasts, had muttered something about the only strong fields being the desperate ones, but Patches could be gentle. Greeting/friendliness/comfort/reassurance/coaxing, nice and soft, trying to convey that he wasn’t about to start mocking Alarm.

It was okay! This was okay. Sometimes people just… fell apart a bit. Primus, Patches had spent a few evenings crying his emotions out. Usually on purpose, though, with blankets available, and with someone who could hug him after. It was healthier than bottling things up. Scalpel went and kicked things to pieces, Forceps attacked scrap metal with their saws, Acus- Patches wasn’t sure, probably something to do with Scalpel and a lot of petting, and, well. Patches set aside time to cry about his emotions.

Mostly because he’d learned that if he didn’t, he was going to start crying anyway. A bit like this. Except Alarm felt, oh… desperate. Not soft, not quietly sad, desperate, and-

And then Alarm, still trying to kick out at him, lashed out with one of the most tumultuous fields Patches had felt in months. He couldn’t even begin to parse it, mostly because it felt like being smacked in the face with a bundle of stiff wire, and because he had to back up. “-ohh, Alarm, sweetie. You- oh, that’s a lot. We’re definitely going to have to do this somewhere quieter. Bracer? I think we should, uh, move this situation. Sorry, Alarm.”

  …Patches was apologizing. For what? Suddenly rather concerned, Alarm lifted his helm enough- and immediately realized that, A, he had somehow missed Bracer approaching him, and B, Bracer was now leaning over him as if to-

A wordless squawk of apology slipped between the sobs as Bracer picked him up, and he elbowed Bracer as hard as he could in the stomach. Infuriatingly, Bracer didn’t even respond to that, aside from a small “ow”. Therefore, Alarm, anger flaring at being handled, bit down on Bracer’s arm. Hard. He felt the metal give under his dentae, but Bracer didn’t even respond to that!

Right. Fuck. Shield-plating on his arm.

Shit.

  “Um. Alarm? I know you’re pissed and all, and you can bite me all you want, but,” Bracer began, lightly jiggling his armload of angry medic, “you’re biting on my shield. You’re gonna break something! Maybe you can bite down on- woah, no, okay, not-“ he squeaked, leaning back, “NOT on my face!”

Alarm made another spiteful attempt at biting Bracer’s face, then helmbutted him in the chin, regretted it, and kicked Bracer in the leg as he struggled to get away. It wasn’t working, though. Bracer was bigger than him, much stronger than him, able to hold him still, able to-

Fuck, he was overpowered, and the outrage/anger/need/despair/NEED in his field vanished under a flood of sheer panic as that sank in. He didn’t- he-

He was helpless, doing his best to piss off a mech much stronger than him, who could twist his helm off in one motion if he so desired. He was about to die if he did anything to make this worse, if he- if Bracer-

No! He wouldn’t settle for this! He wouldn’t just-

  “Uh. Patches?”

  Patches stopped at the quiet little words, standing still so Bracer could catch up with him and his worried jogging, and winced when Alarm’s field hit him. “Oh. Ouch. Poor thing. Ah- well, we- we can’t help him any if we stop here, let’s just- come on, I-I know it’s hard, but there’s nothing in this hallway to help. We need to keep going. Here,” he sighed, moving back to place a servo on Bracer’s-

Well, the big bot’s arms were occupied, so he wound up with a servo on Bracer’s hips. That worked! He was trying to be comforting to the poor mech who had to carry this much distress. Not just that- Bracer’s restraint was definitely making some of this worse, at least temporarily. “I know, sweetie. The ones who’re scared of you are the worst. Big breaths- we’re almost there. I know. It’s all right- just a little longer.”

  Patches kept talking the whole time, voice soft and reassuring, relying more on tone and the promise of “we’re nearly done” than exact words. This tended to work on just about everyone. Bracer was, well- this was upsetting him, clearly, restraining someone who was so thoroughly upset with them. At least Alarm’s emotions had bled back into anger! Having a patient try to punch you into letting them go was always so much better than having a patient panic. It was still a bit not-great, but it worked okay.

  And then they were in the soft room, much to Bracer’s relief. Not because the fighting hurt- it didn’t, not really. The repeated elbows to his stomach? Starting to hurt some, but okay, he could work with it. Biting his shoulder? Also fine. Mostly the sobbing was the problem.

He tried to put Alarm down. He did! But, to his surprise, the pedes braced against his plating and the fingers dug into seams didn’t move. Not even when he stopped supporting any of Alarm’s weight.

Bracer looked thoroughly taken aback for a moment, then hummed softly, reassuringly, and sat down on a piece of furniture. Something custom-made for big bots. A thick, padded mattress propped up far enough off the floor that one could sit on the edge of it comfortably, pressed into one of the room’s corners, every bit of wall over the mattress padded thickly. A bit like a wide corner-couch, but able to put up with bots like Bracer flopping down on it. Even given his armload of distress. Alarm wasn’t exactly light!

Baffled by the sudden lack of attempt to escape, Bracer fit himself back into the corner, nice and comfortably, and pondered his lap full of medic. Five-Alarm was… definitely still crying. Great, heaving sobs, flames tracing down his cheeks and around his throat, vents hitching in harsh distress. He was still swearing, too. At least, that’s what Bracer thought the half-words between sobs were. He was moderately sure that was Alarm swearing at him and not, say-

He didn’t know what else it might be. All he knew was that Alarm was still sobbing too hard to be understood, shoulders heaving, occasionally trying to force everything down but thoroughly failing.

  “Oh, sweetie,” Patches sighed, gathering up an armload of blankets, and moved over to the couch. This time, Alarm didn’t protest the approach- he was crammed into Bracer’s front, still shaking all over, and actually flinched when Patches set a servo on his shoulder. Ouch. Patches would really have preferred being kicked in the gut to being flinched away from. Still- he was here to help, and he was going to help. Starting with making sure Alarm couldn’t somehow manage to get away, Patches wouldn’t be surprised if he started trying to run. And Alarm was hard to contain when he got going, there was a lot of momentum in the average solid-framed medic. Best to keep him here.

Crooning “it’s all right, sweetie, you’re safe”, he sat down comfortably on the mattress/seat, nudging Bracer’s arm aside somewhat to access Alarm a bit more thoroughly. Alarm hadn’t liked being nudged with his field before, so he kept his field contained as well as he could, rumbling softly in the back of his throat instead. As he nudged Alarm further into the corner and began to tuck blankets and heating pads around all of them, he spoke in a soft, low voice, his tone as comforting as he could manage.

“It’s okay, Alarm. We’re not going to mock you or think anything bad of you, I promise. You need a good cry- everyone does, eventually. Just… breathe. Get comfortable. We’re here. You’re okay… it’s okay.”

He kept talking, soft and soothing, as he settled up against Alarm’s back. Alarm wasn’t exactly young by any standards, but he was younger than Patches by a significant percentage, and evidently nobody had ever taught him that it was healthy to let emotions out. Not surprising.

  Five-Alarm’s vents hiccupped once or twice, but, finally, he stopped trying to get rid of them. It wasn’t working, and he was too tired to struggle any more. And they weren’t- they weren’t mocking him, weren’t hurting him, didn’t seem likely to be filming. Trembling slightly, he crammed himself into the padded corner, hugging Bracer’s arm tight for the warmth, and shuddered hard as he felt Patches’ servos on his neck. A moment of tension, optics widening in distress, then he gave a quivering, shaky sobbing noise and slowly went limp.

The petting continued, strong thumbs rubbing at the scruff of his neck, and after a hesitant touch or two they were joined by one of Bracer’s servos. Patches’ servos slid down to massage his winglets, and Bracer kept stroking and rubbing at his scruff with two fingertips, sending tingles of sensation and pleasure down his spine. That… felt…

A soft, slightly less quivering ex-vent, and Alarm settled more comfortably into the corner and under the blankets, hiding his face in one of the pillows that Patches had stuffed in the general vicinity of his helm. Caught, somewhere between trapped and protected, wrapped in blankets and being petted, Alarm went limp and just. Sobbed. Quietly, shakily, flames licking up around his audials as his erratically sparking optics caught his tears on fire. At least the despair had leaked away from his field slightly.

  Patches was tucked himself firmly up against the padding and against Alarm’s frame, snuggling in tight, purring rather loudly, but he was drowned out almost completely by Bracer. Bracer purred hard enough on the loudest notes to rattle both their frames slightly, and was happy to keep purring like this if it helped at all. That, and keeping his arm in Alarm’s reach. This was starting to get so much less stressful- now that Alarm was actually starting to. Well.

Alarm wasn’t calm, but this felt a bit… cleaner. Healthier. Still crying, but without the blades and staggered sensation in his field. This- this wasn’t so concerning. He’d just… stay like this, and purr. For as long as it took.

  It took a little while, of course. Longer than Bracer would have expected, but he didn’t leave. He did eventually reclaim his arm, gently, as his shoulder started to cramp, but he kept petting Alarm. Not least because he’d never seen Alarm up this close.

His winglets started to spread apart into their wing-position if gently squeezed at the bases. Like how lightly squishing Gravescratch’s forepaw just right brought his claws out. Alarm’s audials were pretty, too, lined with the thinnest lines of bio-lights along the leading edges. Strong back, thick armor, wide shoulders, sturdy midsection- he felt strong! A bit… hm, still not with enough weight. Certain areas felt almost hollow along his stomach as Bracer explored. Better than he’d looked before, though, and starting to feel almost squishy.

Thick, slightly rounded thighs, well-protected knee joints, fairly complex ankles from what Bracer could find just by touch, and then- ah! Toes! Short, blunt, very wide claws, mostly. A bit like excavator claws, but on his pedes, and flexible. Probably good for managing climbs over rubble.

Most bots felt fragile compared to Bracer. He probably could have hurt Alarm very badly if he’d tried, but it would have taken effort! Much more effort than someone else. Probably the only reason he’d been able to do to this with Alarm, that sensation of a solid, durable, strong frame against his. He wouldn’t have been able to stand holding onto someone more like a minibot frame if they’d struggled.

Another stroke to Alarm’s back, then Bracer purred encouragingly as Alarm glanced up at him, offering a quiet, gentle smile. “Yeah- see? This is, uh. All things considered, if you gotta have some kind of breakdown, there’s worse ones to have. At least you aren’t setting everything on fire.”

Oh, thank Primus, Alarm seemed to be done. He wasn’t quite sobbing any more, just making tiny vent-hitch noises, and he’d stopped the occasional spark-breaking keens that had been scattered between the sobs. He didn’t sound broken any more, just… tired.

  “I-hif you- you tell ah-anyone ab-bout this, I-“ Alarm began, cramming himself into the corner with his back to one wall, then shut himself up and just sat. He couldn’t do anything. Wasn’t much he could prevent at this point, especially not from them. Dear Primus, he hoped neither of them had been recording this.

Patches was smiling again. Beaming. As if someone had done something… good. Fuck. That damned sweet expression. Perpetually cheerful. Alarm glanced away slightly, servos kneading one of the softer blankets, then ex-vented heavily and groaned under his breath. Fuck. He’d just started to seem respectable, and then he had to go and do this.

He’d thought he could make it back to his room. He’d thought he could beat the swell of emotion to somewhere a bit more private. But, no… fell apart in a storage room and sobbed his spark out until he was kidnapped and forcibly cuddled. Called them all kinds of terrible things, too, though some of that probably hadn’t been very clear. Hopefully they hadn’t understood much of-

Oh! Patches pulled an energon cube out of absolutely nowhere and presented it to Alarm, and, much to his quietly surprised enjoyment, it was his favorite mix. Standard energon blended with a bit of sweet, a bit of medical-grade, and just a dash of Seeker-grade. How- how had he-

  Patches spotted the confused expression as Alarm started drinking, and offered him a little smile, snuggling firmly against his flank now. “I told Duo I wanted to bring you a snack and asked them what you like to drink. Didn’t tell them why. You know- I can see why you like that. It’s a bit much for me, but it’s nice. Now… are you feeling any better?”

No answer. That was all right. Patches cuddled gently under Alarm’s arm, giving him a good, tight hug, and smiled up at Bracer as the big mech hauled some blankets further up around the three of them.

  It was cute. Sweet. Sickeningly sweet. Fuck these two were ridiculous. Alarm made a little noise, somewhere between a laugh and a sob, and took a long draught of the energon. Okay, yeah. They hadn’t done anything yet, they probably wouldn’t now.

He could… could sit here and do this. Sure. Drink this, especially since it was warm, and try to figure out what he was doing.

And vaguely contemplate the idea of trying to talk, just a little bit. Neither of them were mocking him, even slightly kidding, just… holding him. Petting him. Offering him things.

Unfairly sweet, the both of them.

Weird fuckers.

[pearlescent-words]

Greater Good

“I’m just on my way back to medical; there’s a new patient come in and they need my help, can this wait?” If Derix’s self-satisfied smirk and Kamern’s exasperated sigh were anything to go by I’d say they don’t quite believe me, “I’m afraid not.”

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

This will eventually be a Bellamy x OC story though I do intend it to be quick a slow burn, with a loooot of ups and downs so it’ll be a real ride if that’s what you’re after… :) There’s three chapters that I’ve written so far and I can’t say how many more there will be but, with how many chapters it’s looking to take to get through the first episode it’s set to be an awful lot - hopefully that’s more appealing than offputting.

Anyway, please read, enjoy and let me know what you think!!

Chapter One - Prologue

On the Ark everything is limited; food rations, medical supplies, free time and even oxygen. Nothing can be spared and everything is shared based on need. A nice idea in theory, terrible in action. Being from Alpha Station I can consider myself one of the privileged, only elevated by my status as Medic in Ark Station Medical and then reinforced by being Council Member Dr. Griffin’s personal apprentice. She took me on just after my fourteenth birthday and she’s dedicated every moment since then to teaching me everything she knows, and largely because of her dedication, within a few months, or less with some luck, I’ll also be granted the title of Dr. (Given that I pass the exam’s of course.) And having that higher title will only make my job easier, both medically and in my out of work activities.

Being part of the privileged sector makes it virtually impossible to ignore the Ark’s massive social hierarchy divide. Those working on Stations such as Mecha, Agro or Factory seemed to struggle with the less than satisfactory food rations given and limited quota for medical treatment, especially when factoring in that many of those workers face a much more dangerous job than, say, anyone from my station. But given my position on Go-Sci Station I think I’m more than able to help, and honestly, the guilt of knowing and doing nothing would be crippling.

You’d be shocked the amount of people who are in desperate need for help and under the age of 12, usually they’re attempting to help out struggling parents rather than themselves, but something about that just makes the situation more heartbreaking. The innocence of their childhood sacrificed in place of empty tummies, desperately sick parents and a crushing responsibility unwittingly shoved onto them so soon into their, what is guaranteed to be difficult, lives. I’ve been smuggling extra food rations and medicine to desperate families since I was around 16, at this point I have a list of regulars that sadly just keeps on growing, and then, of course, the popup patients in need of medicine that they’ve already gone over their quota for. Naturally covering this entire operation up is a bit tricky, not at all helped by the fact I’m doing this completely alone and the threat of being floated is looming over my head at every turn.

There are those who say my motivation for doing all of this is less than selfless, those who hate me because of my position on the Ark and take my attempt at assistance as charity or pity –that I’m seeking to make myself feel better rather than a genuine desire to help. Perhaps they’re right; perhaps it’s some deep-rooted sense of superiority that makes me help them despite the danger, a sense of safety from my valued position. Maybe I view myself as some modern-day Robin Hood; a messiah of the people. A twisted mentality of ‘Everything I do is to help the needy & desperate and you should thank me for it’; a side effect of growing up on Alpha station I’m sure. Irregardless of my moral reasoning, standing by and doing nothing just doesn’t sit well with me.

Occasionally, in the particularly difficult weeks, I’ll get the bright idea that it’d be easier to include more people in this little operation; perhaps then with a larger group we could expand and help more people on the Ark. Presently the only ones who know of what I do, are the ones I help. But then you’re given the issue of who to trust, how many to include?, would the risk of everything only go up?, would the risk for my patients go up?. Ultimately I’d elected to keep all of this too myself.

But that still wasn’t enough

Making my way back from food storage, with around 16 stolen rations stashed away on my person is risky enough as it is; having three guards waiting around the corner for you is practically a death sentence. And their slow approach wasn’t reassuring in the slightness.

I know two of them by name, the third appeared to be a guard in training and I absentmindedly note that I should cosy up to him as soon as possible – keep your enemies close and all that. I’d never consider myself friends with the other two, Derix & Kamern, but I’d made it a point to know as many guards as I could, from their names to general shift rotation. Partially to make smuggling easier and well, you never know who you might need a favour off. Nonetheless, we’re acquaintances at the very least, though that really didn’t help with why they were making their way towards me.

Kamern appeared to be leading the group, ironic really considering his small stature and quiet personality; Derix and the new kid towered over him in the back. His blonde hair was parted to the side and combed down as usual, and he was clearly attempting to look stern and give off an intimidating presence – not that that particularly worked with his baby face and light freckled skin, though I suppose he is practically a kid, only recently turned 18. Well he’s younger than me at least.

Derix towering behind him was clearly in his element here. Slowly approaching someone bound to be in trouble, uniform crisp, brown eyes conveying a bored indifference to all like everyone was the dirt beneath his shoe. We never got along particularly well, he’s difficult to talk too and takes everything much too seriously, but we were at least civil.

The new kid looked nervous, though a quite determination marred his brow as he approached with the others. He’d clearly only just started - perhaps I’m even his first bust. That ought to be a treat, the first person your set to float and its Dr. Griffins prodigy caught smuggling rations.

I briefly entertain the idea of running but the notion is dismissed as quickly as it came, there is after all absolutely nowhere I could attempt to hide in the long term. We’re on a ship in space there are only so many places, besides if they’re after me now running isn’t going to stop them coming after me later.

“Miss. Johnson, if you’d like to come with us please.”

Kamern, despite his less than guard-like physique, possessed an inherently authoritative voice that made you want to do anything he said. But this time I really couldn’t, I know I don’t actually have a choice right now, but I also know if I go with them I’m guaranteed to be floated within the week,

“I’m just on my way back to medical; there’s a new patient come in and they need my help, can this wait?”

If Derix’s self-satisfied smirk and Kamern’s exasperated sigh were anything to go by I’d say they don’t quite believe me,

“I’m afraid not.”

Once again Kamern’s authoritative tone left little room for argument, though that didn’t stop the notion of running coming back to mind. I’d have nothing to lose now anyway, if I go with them I’ll undoubtedly be searched, figured out and floated regardless of my position of the ark. But if I run maybe I ’ll stand some kind of chance, maybe the people I’ve been helping all these years can help me out; hide me perhaps.

But I can’t spend forever like that; flitting from room to room, and there’s nowhere else I could possibly go, no one I’d want to put at such great a risk. Perhaps it’d be better to be floated for my crimes, certainly quicker in the least.

Irregardless I seem to have run out of time to make my decision, though I never really had on one in the first place. The small nod Kamern sent to Derix and the new boy had them advancing on me in seconds, giving me no time at all to turn and run and instead be forced into their hands and marched forcefully down the hallway - Kamern leading all the way.

It wasn’t until we reached the Ark’s Go-Sci main hallway that I began to question how they found out about my operation. Being marched through the hallways I was met with concerned looks and quiet whispers, a majority of those I passed aren’t people I help out but the odd one here and there, the ones looking the most distressed at my situation or perhaps at the prospect of their own, I recognised.  And considering the only ones to know about my smuggling are those I’ve been helping, only one of them could have turned me in, which quite frankly made little sense. But I’ve always been meticulous with my plans, always checking guard systems for any changes, forging the medical forms to the letter as well as the food ration forms and after spending the last seven years doing this I’d gotten pretty good at it.

They didn’t bother to search me until after we’d reached the skybox, apparently, they were confident enough in the information they were given, only reaffirming my suspicion that who every ratted me out is presumably someone I’ve been helping for a while now. They did eventually search me however and found exactly what they were looking for (much to Derix’s delight). I was briskly read off my reasons for being put into the skybox and told that the council would review my case shortly, which was completely unnecessary; I was over the age of 18 and therefore guaranteed to be floated for my crimes. All three guards left the room following this and I moved to perch on the edge of the bed as the grating, mechanical locks fell into place.

Life on the Ark; a paradise in space.

Sure.

[learningfrommiley]

Where are collision repair facilities in their never-ending journey to lean manufacturing?

Where are collision repair facilities in their never-ending journey to lean manufacturing?

By Micki Woods

I feel that the word “lean” used to really mean something in the auto body industry, and owners were hypervigilant about becoming lean. But in today’s world, lean is almost commonplace and devoid of any oomph behind it. Why is that?

I Have Arrived!

I believe that, as an industry, we’ve become callous to what lean means and feel that when it was first talked about (at every waking conference), we took advantage of what we learned and implemented some of those strategies. So, in essence, we checked that lean box and were good to go.

For instance, I talked with shops across the country and asked them if they were running lean. They all answered with a quick “Yes!” It was almost as if they were saying, “Is there any other way?” When I asked them why they felt they were running lean, they cited one or two things they were doing in their shops that had been derived from the lean way of thinking. Therefore, they thought they had “arrived”!

The Concept of Lean

I’d like to take a moment to refocus on what lean production means for shops and why I think it fizzled away like a day-old beer (er, I mean, soda) left open on the counter.

The concept of lean production founded by Kiichiro Toyoda and Taiichi Ohno was fairly complex in that it encompassed a lot of specific processes needed to create lean production. Yet, the concept was pretty straightforward: quickly, efficiently, with no waste, happy employees, teamwork and error-free. Wow! That’s all?! (Insert eye-roll here.)

I believe the hard part for the auto body world was how to take that lean production concept and merge it with the repair process. Many of us couldn’t wrap our heads around it, so we picked a few things we felt we could do that could potentially help our shop and left it at that.

You Say Lean…I Say Mind Bender

Now let me point out that a truly lean shop is like a utopia that no one ever truly attains because there’s always a way to be more lean. Lean is a neverending journey. Plus, most shops are not capable of completely scrapping every process capability they have and starting over to do it the most lean way possible. (And if you are, let us know so we can come drool over your unicorn shop!)

So, instead of talking about running your shop lean, let’s call it running your shop the most efficient way possible. As a matter of fact, when I asked some of my paint partners if they provide lean classes today like they used to, they said they do but they have modified most of the titles. For example, Axalta has “Repair Planning” and FinishMaster has “NuVentory” and “Lean Tech.”

Why is that? Why did they have to change the name from Lean Repair 101 or whatever they used to call it to something different? As I said earlier, I believe most shops were overwhelmed by the lean process and others felt that they already had attained it because they had made a few changes.

Lean Fast

As most of you already know, I used to own my own shop in Van Nuys, Calif., called Casa Body Shop or Casa Automotive Group Body Shop. When the economy took a downturn in 2007, my shop became lean very quickly! No manual needed! As I cut expenses left and right and started to dial in my expenses and revenue, I realized how much “fat” my shop had been carrying. I couldn’t believe how lean I could run from a financials standpoint.

I then began attending lean workshops, and although I was excited at the process, I left with my eyeballs spinning in my face and my brain on fire. So, I asked my friend, Curt Nixon, if I could tour his shop, “L” Monte Body Shop in El Monte, Calif. After seeing how he ran his facility with such great processes and following a lean mindset, I knew I wanted to be just like him when I grew up. Ha! Ok, so maybe not exactly. But I tell ya, what an inspiration his mindset was! And there was no denying the success he was having with “keys-to-keys” cycle time, rental days, customer satisfaction and loyalty, and insurance relationships.

I ran right back to my shop and, without even blinking, switched my management systems to Summit so I could have my techs and writers move the vehicle status and have everyone clearly on the same page. I purchased computer work stations for every employee so clear information would be at everyone’s fingertips regarding any vehicle in the shop. I began tearing down all vehicles, blueprinting and waiting for every part to come in before starting the repair and watched my cycle time decrease and errors at completion dwindle. At the time, I thought, “Look at me! My shop is so lean!” In comparison to where it was before, yes, it was lean. But was there more I needed to do to continue on that lean path? Yes.

Eat that Cake One Bite at a Time

Just like we talked about in my article, “Competing with the Big Boys,” in the March 2019 issue of BodyShop Business, it’s not about eating the cake all in one bite. It’s about taking it one bite at a time, one small step at a time that allows you to tackle the big things. This is often where shops fail at running lean or more efficiently.

This is where I was failing because everything sounded really great but I wasn’t even sure where to start! I (maybe like you) felt like I needed to do it all at once. I began to feel overwhelmed, and then I sat and did nothing until I went to see a shop firsthand that was having success and had some specific, attainable goals. Where other shops get stuck in their quest for lean is attempting to adjust something and finding out the adjustment didn’t work. They then panic and resume doing things the old way to keep pumping out work – hence, no change.

A Fresh Look

Here are some ways for you to take a fresh look at your business and see where you can increase your efficiency and not get bogged down by feeling like you have to tackle it all at once:

Do you have a specific area you know you need help with? Or several? List them by priority.

This is going to sound odd, but if you have a list of a few main issues, it’s smart to work through those backwards. Start with the smallest issue because it will be the easiest one to fix. You’ll then gain confidence from that win and build momentum toward fixing the next issue. You’ll need to create a strong process for each item as you work through them and make sure all employees are totally on board. Get that working cleanly with full buy-in (especially from management), then move on to the next item!

Are You Not Sure Where You Need Help?

Some shops think they’re doing pretty well but don’t have any metrics or true feedback. I would recommend you start looking through the CSI reports you get from your insurance partners, your Yelp feedback, etc., and see what your customers are loving about you and where they’re finding faults. Many shops find it valuable to have an internal CSI program that only management or owners can see that allows them to keep tabs on their customers’ experiences. I have a great review driver if that’s something you’d like to look into. Either way, find out what your customers are saying behind your back! No one likes to be talked about behind their back, but it happens. And you need to know what they’re saying so you can fix it!

Do you feel like you’re doing everything pretty well but think getting more cars in your door would be a huge help?

You’ll need to do some marketing of some kind (and I know a great marketer you can call or email if you need a referral – wink wink, nudge nudge), but I’d say this is a great time to sit down and look at your books. Ugh. Boring! Books! But, really. If you need someone to work with you, then your accountant should be able to help you decipher your ledgers. Honestly, anyone can start with the basics and then work through them.

I can tell you from experience that as you start to go down your expense list, you realize there are many ways to save money and many contracts you can adjust. Little savings all start to add up! Then, work through your moneymakers. How can you make more money on what you’re already doing? For example, are you charging insurance for storage when they leave a vehicle over a certain number of days? Have you visited the discussion about your parts discounts recently? If you aren’t a dealership-driven shop, then you should be shopping around for deeper discounts.

Summary

There are always processes that can work more efficiently (a.k.a. “lean” to put the most money in your pocket and smiling faces on your customers and staff).

[fanfic-inator795]

Lego Batman Oneshot: Sick Sidekick

Plot: It was just the common cold. It was just something that he would get over in a couple days, a week at most. Nothing dangerous, certainly nothing lethal. Everything would be fine. ...That was what the Batman side of his brain told him anyway. The Batdad side, on the other hand...

((Heyyyy! It’s been a while since I’ve written a Lego Batman story, but all the cold weather we’ve been getting lately gave me an idea! Enjoy! ^v^))

The ‘secret’ hideout honestly hadn’t been too much of a secret. As soon as they felt the temperature drop and saw the frost along the outer walls of the warehouse, they knew that they had found him.

“You ready?” Batman asked, glancing behind him at the newly-built second seat within the Bat Jet.

Robin nodded, quickly putting on his determined, ‘serious’ face (though it did little to hide his usual excitement for their missions). “I’m ready when you are, Padre!”

“Okay.” Turning to the front again, Batman quickly tied the controls with some Bat-Rope, allowing the jet to fly in ‘auto pilot’ mode. Once that was taken care of, he kicked open the door, and the dynamic duo jumped out, using their capes to glide safely onto the roof of the warehouse.

Getting in through an emergency exit was a breeze, as was climbing down into the building - a building that, by this point, felt more like a freezer than storage. Robin tried his best not to shiver too much, and wrapped his cape around him the best he could. Maybe he should’ve actually worn pants for this one...

“We just have to find that freeze machine...” Batman whispered, already getting out a bat-a-rang, “Keep sharp.”

“R-Right...” Robin looked around. With how dark everything was, it was hard to see what they were surrounded by. Nothing looked too dangerous though. Just a lot of crates and a couple broken conveyor belts. The boy then glanced up towards the ceiling of the warehouse, where a cat walk and a couple rows of broken out lights hung. “Broken lights... Heh, no w-wonder this place is so-”

Suddenly, Robin froze (though thankfully, not literally). One of the light’s was filled, not with broken glass, but with something solid and cone shaped. And next to it was a pair of small, red, glaring eyes.

“BATMAN!” Robin cried out, instantly getting his father’s attention, “Up there!” The object immediately fired, and the duo jumped out of the way, just barely avoiding the chilling blast.

“Freeze!” Batman called out, narrowing his eyes, “I was wondering when you’d get here.”

“Hmph, so much for the element of surprise...” a booming, monotonous voice replied. Taking his freeze ray out of the light fixture, Mr. Freeze then used a rope and pulley system to lower himself down just enough for the two heroes to see him. 

“So what are you planning this time, Freeze?” Batman asked, “Another ‘freeze the city’ scheme?”

“In due time, perhaps,” Mr. Freeze answered, “I am still working out the details. For you see, Batman, I have decided to ‘switch things up’, as it were.”

Both heroes looked at him curiously. “W-What do you mean?” Robin asked.

“Well, every time I try to initiate one of my plans, you two are always there to stop me,” Mr. Freeze flatly explained, “It really has gotten quite annoying, you know. So, because you trying to stop me no matter what I do has become an absolute, I figured my only chance of success was to ice you both before I could initiate any plans. And, what better way to do that, than in my own element?” 

He gestured to their frozen surroundings. Snow and ice covered floors, plenty of spots to hang deadly icicles from, and very little light to see by. Batman and Robin may have been great fighters, but Freeze still clearly had a battlefield advantage.

But despite the situation, Batman and Robin both glared at him. “Yeah, not gonna happen,” the Dark Knight retorted before throwing an exploding bat-a-rang up towards the stoic supervillain.

It got pretty close, but Freeze still managed to blast it just in time, forcing the now-frozen weapon to fall to the floor like a rock. Freeze then smirked, just a little. “We shall see...” 

And so, the fight was on!

With Freeze on the offense, most of what the two heroes were doing were just dodging and looking for an opening. Well, that and, just trying to stay on their feet without slipping. Even a natural acrobat like Robin still had to (literally) stay on his toes, and sometimes just barely managed to avoid falling! 

“Give it up,” Mr. Freeze told them as he fired another shot, “You will not beat me this time, bat...”

Batman tried to duck behind a nearby crate, but the beam ended up hitting the end of his cape, freezing it instantly. Gritting his teeth, the hero quickly abandoned the cape. Sure it was cool and it helped with the whole ‘striking fear’ thing, but he could live without it for now - especially since he still had one OTHER important part of his costume. 

“I think it’s about time, you give up, Freeze!” Batman retorted, coming out from his cover just enough to throw a bat-a-rang that flew right towards Freeze-! ...And completely missed.

The super villain gave a monotonous laugh. “Really?”

But Batman just smirked. “Wait for it...” 

With all the icicles, there were quite a few things for the bat-a-rang to bounce off of, and by the time Mr. Freeze turned to see just what his enemy was going on about, the bat-shaped weapon had already ricochet back towards his platform, cutting one of the ropes! Freeze gave a small gasp, quickly grabbing onto the other rope.

Sliding to a stop, Robin gave his father a grin. “Nice shot, Batdad!”

“Heh, yeah! I-” “Hmph.” The two heroes turned their attention back to Freeze, who was still holding on. “Nice, indeed... But-” He hopped down, using his ice beam to create a couple steps for him to use to help him get down. “Still not a defeat.”

“Trust us, we’re getting there!” Robin shouted as he started skating towards Freeze, preparing an attack of his own, “Just give us a sec!”

Freeze sneered, firing his icy weapon once more. But Robin managed to leap up just in time, giving him the perfect opportunity to kick the villain in the chest, knocking him off his feet. Getting ready to stick his landing, the Boy Wonder couldn’t help but cheer a bit at his successful shot. 

...Unfortunately, his actual landing (which happened to be on a newly-formed spot of ice, something he should have honestly expected but still didn’t realize was there) ended up being less than successful. It wasn’t a total fall, thankfully, but he did lose his footing a bit, forcing him to stand still just to try and keep his balance. “Robin?” he heard his father ask.

“Don’t worry, Batdad, I’m-” “LOOK OUT!” 

It all happened so quickly. Robin had turned around, just managing to catch the sight of Batman rushing towards Freeze, who had managed to get on his knees, his ray gun still held tightly in his hands. 

But in an instant, his view became nothing but icy wind. And as he quickly moved his arms to shield his face, the lower part of his body began to feel stiff and cold. VERY cold. If his teeth weren’t chattering before, they certainly were now! 

Soon enough the wind cleared, and as the ice around his legs and torso solidified, Robin could see both Batman and Freeze looking at him (or, in Freeze’s case, smirking at him). “Perhaps you should have flown south for the winter, Bird Boy,” the villain taunted. 

“Y-Yeah well, n-not all r-r-robins mirg-grate so, so there!” Robin managed to retort, though it seemed to fall on deaf ears.

Instead, Batman had his eyes on Freeze, glaring at him. “You won’t get away with this, Freeze,” he growled.

“Hmph.” Freeze simply pointed the gun at Batman. “We shall see, Bat.” With that, he fired. Of course, Batman had been ready, and easily jumped out of the way. But the supervillain had been expecting this. Really, all Mr. Freeze needed was a distraction so he could run to the next room (and hopefully escape) without getting pelted by bat-a-rangs. 

And so, that was just what he did, while Batman was left with a choice... Go after Freeze, or stay behind and free Robin, giving Freeze the opportunity to escape.  “H-Hurry, P-Padre!” Robin shouted, “Y-You can’t let him g-get away!”

“I know I can’t!” Batman replied, clenching his fists, “But I also can’t just-!”

“I’ll be f-f-fine!” his son insisted, “I-I still have my arms, s-so maybe I can b-break myself out! So, so just go g-get Freeze! Hurry!”

“...” Batman looked at him, and then at the doorway Freeze had ran into, and then back at Robin. “...I promise I’ll be right back,” he told him. And with that, Batman ran further into the chilling warehouse.

“O-Okay... I, I c-can do this,” Robin mumbled, “Gosh...” He had only been in ice a minute or so, and his hands were already shaking. Biting his lip, he started to hit the ice surrounding him, hoping to break it. But of course, it was no use. He needed a weapon. Like- “L-Like my staff!”

And, unlike the rest of his weapons that were on his utility belt (and therefore, on ice at the moment), his staff had a holster on his back! So, he was able to easily reach over his shoulder and get it out. “Y-Yes!” Once the staff was extended, he began striking the ice. Over and over, hitting it as hard as he could! ...But it was still no use. 

“Aww, s-s-seriously?!” He winced. The ice was starting to become painful now. He had to get out! But how? “...” Deciding to try one last thing before giving up and waiting for his father to return, Robin placed the end of the staff on his floor. Using any and all arm strength he had left, he tried to pull himself up and out of the ice. At the very least, maybe he could tip himself over, cracking the ice a bit. 

It took a couple minutes, but with enough effort and patience, the Boy Wonder could feel himself start to move. “Y-Yes! Y-Yes! P-Please! J-Just a bit more-!” There was a loud *CRACK!*, and he fell forward, the ice still around him finally breaking away from its base. They were numb, but he could now move his feet, just a little. 

Grinning now, Robin sat up as best he could, and went back to hitting the ice head-on. One hit, two hits, three, four-! More cracks appeared as he chipped away at his restraints, and before long- *SMASH!* He was freed!

“A-ALRIGHT!” he cheered, “Woo-hoo! I di- ow! Owowow!” Okay, maybe he wasn’t COMPLETELY freed yet. His legs were still pretty numb, not to mention sore. “C-Come on, legs!” he mumbled as he limped towards the next room in the warehouse, “D-Don’t fail me n-now...”

Being closer to Freeze’s ice generators, the next storage room was much, MUCH colder than the first... Though, neither Freeze nor Batman paid much attention to the temperature. They just kept fighting, each one of them determined to bring the other down.

“Back to only running and dodging?” Freeze questioned, “Perhaps I have given you brain-freeze.”

“You know, it’s super easy to make ice puns,” Batman shot back at him, just before ducking to avoid being frozen, “Anyone can do it! You’re not clever!”

“...” Holding himself close, Robin stuck to the shadows, and quietly moved around the room, staying as hidden as possible and remembering each piece of ‘stealth mode’ advice his padre had given him. Blend into your surroundings... Use the naturally dark parts of your costume... Hide every part of yourself, physically and emotionally...

“You know, I’m sure your sidekick does not have much time left, Batman,” Freeze began to taunt, “Why we call this a night so you can go free him? It would be easier to do that than to find a new sidekick, don’t you think?”

Batman narrowed his eyes, saying nothing in return. He knew he had to do something, but-! 

And that was when he saw his son, nearly behind Freeze now, his staff at the ready. “...Hmph, all I care about is bringing you down!” Batman finally replied as he got out another bat-a-rang, making sure he had all of the villain’s attention. “Besides, why do you want ME to give up? What, don’t think you can do the job yourself?”

Now it was Freeze’s turn to glare. “I was only trying to show you mercy. After all, your brain could still prove to be some use if it was under some control. But-” He began to take aim, and Batman didn’t move an inch. “It looks like both you and your sidekick will be given a frozen grave tonight!” The ice ray prepared to fire, and-

“Don’t count on it!” As soon as he made his position known, Robin crouched down, swinging his staff and he sweeping Freeze right off his feet! The villain let out a yelp, but as he tried to regain his footing, he felt another strike in his back, sending him to the floor. And, with one foot now on Freeze’s shoulder so he couldn’t get up, Robin used his staff to knock the ray across the icy surface like a hockey pock, sending it straight to Batman!

“NO!” Freeze tried to get up, but it was too late. Batman stomped down on the ray, breaking it into pieces. “NO! You, you brat! I’ll-I’ll-!”

“I would think about surrendering now,” Batman told him, crossing his arms, “Especially since we, you know, just destroyed your only weapon.” Freeze glared at him, but sighed, knowing that the hero was right. 

Once Mr. Freeze was in Bat-Cuffs, it didn’t take long for the duo to turn off his ice machines and drop him off at Arkham using the Bat Jet. “Nice job tonight, kid,” Batman told Robin, smiling as they flew away from the infamous asylum.

Robin gave him a weak yet still genuine smile in return. “Heh, t-thanks Padre. I, I guess all my stealth t-training is starting to pay off, huh?”

“Definitely!” Batman nodded, “A couple more years, and you’ll be able to sneak up on anybody! ...Well, anyone that’s not me.”

“Heh, that’s good...” As they flew around the city, keeping an eye out for other possible crimes or criminals, Robin moved closer to his father, keeping mostly quiet and just wanting to be near him. He wasn’t holding on to him or anything, just leaning on him. 

But, every once in a while, Batman would hear sniffling from the boy. But, whenever he looked over at his son, he didn’t see any tears. Heck, Robin didn’t even look upset! Just a bit tired. So, Batman just patted his shoulder or ruffled his hair, allowing him to keep using his shoulder as a pillow as they continued their patrol. 

Eventually though, it was time for them to head home - and good thing too. Dick was already yawning by the time they reached the Bat-Cave. 

But even so- “Hey, I think Alfred said he was making some of those pizza bagel things you like for supper,” Batman told him as they changed into their pajamas and house robe respectively, “Why don’t we warm a few of them up, and maybe watch some tv before calling it a night?”

Dick gave another weak smile, but shook his head. “Thanks, Dad, but... I think I’m just gonna head to bed now. I’ll just have them tomorrow for lunch.” 

“Oh. Well, alright,” Batman nodded, watching his son walk to the elevator, “Sleep tight, kiddo.”

“Mm, g’night, Batdad,” Dick sleepily nodded. The metal doors closed, and he was gone, leaving Batman all alone.

“...Hmm...” Even on their really late nights, the two of them always at least ate something together before heading to bed, whether it was leftovers from supper or even just a quick bowl of cereal. ...Then again, Dick had never really fought Freeze much before tonight. He was probably just worn out from that. Yeah, that was probably it.

“He’ll be fine,” Batman told himself, ignoring the small nagging feeling in the back of his cowl, “He’ll be fine...”

()()()()()()()()()()

It was about noon when Batman decided to wake up and get out of bed (figuring that most dads probably didn’t sleep past two all the time). Giving a small yawn, he tied his robe and headed downstairs, more than ready for some brunch. 

...However, as he walked through the manor, he couldn’t help but feel like something was off. Different, but not necessarily threatening. “Huh...” It was weird. Nothing looked dangerous, or was even moved. No strange ticking sounds (barely any sounds at all, actually) or weird smells. 

Even Alfred was the same, dusting the dining room the same way he always did. “Ah, good afternoon, Master Bruce,” Alfred said, giving him a small nod, “Shall I get you something to eat?”

“Yeah, thanks Alfred,” Batman replied, sitting down at the head of the long table. There was already a plate in front of him, as well as a copy of the Gotham Gazette. Picking the paper up, Batman then began taking it apart. He always preferred reading the business and entertainment sections first anyway. Besides, Dick always liked to look at the comics-

Wait. ...So THAT was it! “Hey, Alfred!”

The butler poked his head through the double doors that led to the kitchen. “Yes, Master Bruce?”

“Where’s Dick?” Batman asked, glancing around, “Is he visiting Flash’s kid or somethin’ today?”

“Actually Master Bruce, I believe he upstairs resting,” Alfred answered before heading back into the kitchen.

Batman blinked. “Resting?” he repeated, getting out of his chair and heading towards the kitchen himself, “But that kid’s usually up by eight, no matter how late we stay out!” And, as he pushed through the double doors, a look of concern crossed his cowl-covered face. “Is, is he alright?”

Looking up from the plate of scrambled eggs he had been preparing, Alfred gave his master an assuring smile. “Master Dick should be fine. I checked on him this morning, and it looked like it was only a cold. Nothing a bit of rest and some warm honey tea shouldn’t cure.”

“Oh,” Batman said simply, his expression unchanged. Of course he was relieved but, well... This was the first time he had ever seen his sidekick/son bedridden. Even when Dick occasionally got hurt or even broke a limb, the kid still smiled and ran around jumping and climbing on things like nothing was even wrong! None of those injuries or instances could bring him down, but a ‘simple cold’ apparently could? “...I think I’m going to check on him myself.”

“Very well. Your brunch will be waiting for you when you get back,” he heard his butler reply as left the kitchen. Quickening his pace just a little (not that he was worried, of course not. He just wanted to get there quickly, that was all), Batman headed upstairs and went straight to Dick’s bedroom.  

Unsurprisingly, the lights in the large spare-guestroom-turned-boy’s-bedroom had been dimmed. A humidifier had been brought in as well as a pitcher of water and some dry toast. And, in the middle of the soft, red and yellow canopy bed, was Dick. A bit pale with a slightly red nose, but otherwise still asleep. 

“...” Curious, Batman lurked in the doorway for several seconds before silently moving into the room like a shadow, looming over the child and looking him over. He may have been silent, but his mind certainly wasn’t. Has he ate or drank anything today? Were sick kids supposed to be this pale? Has he had any medicine lately? What if he’s gotten worse and Alfred hasn’t noticed yet? What-?

Suddenly, Dick groaned, making his father flinch. Before Batman could even say anything, Dick slowly opened his eyes. “...Batdad?” he mumbled, “What’re you doin’ here...?”

“Oh, I uh, well, I just woke up and uh, I heard you weren’t doing so good today,” Batman said quickly, trying to be as nonchalant as possible, “So I just figured I’d check on you. You know, just to make sure you’re alright. ...I mean, I know you’re not TOTALLY alright cause you’re sick but-”

“Oh, okay...” Dick nodded before sniffling, “Ugh... I hope I can still-” he interrupted himself with a couple coughs, and while they didn’t sound too bad, Batman still took notice of them. “-I-I hope I can still go on patrol tonight...”

“We’ll see,” was all Batman said as he pressed a gentle hand against his son’s forehead. He wasn’t sweating, but Dick still felt a bit hot. “Yeah, we’ll see. But, until then, just get some more rest. Okay, kid?”

“Mm, okay...” With that, Dick burrowed himself back under the blankets, his head just barely visible now. Batman watched him for just a couple seconds more before finally leaving, racing back downstairs to the dining room.

“Alfred, you were right about the cold,” the vigilante began, his brows furrowed in thought, “But I think it may be turning into more than just that. We should get him more fluids, and more medicine. It felt like he was starting to get a fever too, so-”

“Yes, a fever of a hundred and one degrees, to be precise,” Alfred nodded, setting the plate of scrambled eggs down, “And I’ve already provided Master Dick with the medicine for that, as well. I believe his next dose of medicine will be three hours from now. Until then, all he needs to do is rest and let his body take care of the rest.”

“...Oh.” Batman glanced away from his butler, taking an immediate interest in his eggs. (Because of course Alfred would already have everything taken care of. Of course.) “Right, right... Uh, good job, Alfred.” 

Alfred quickly thanked him for the compliment before returning to his long list of daily chores, leaving his master to only pick at his food...

It was just the common cold. Okay, a cold and a small fever, but still mostly a cold. It was just something that Dick would get over in a couple days, a week at most! Nothing dangerous, certainly nothing lethal. Everything would be fine. 

...That was what Batman had to keep reminding himself, anyways. 

()()()()()()()

Slow days were a common annoyance for the Dark Knight. Really, unless he had a ton of meetings at Wayne Tower or a huge criminal case to do research on, Batman spent most of his days simply waiting for them to end. T’was the price of being a super awesome night-stalking vigilante, it would seem.

This had changed a bit once Dick came along though, with his days now sometimes consisting of things like going to his son’s school for some parent volunteer thing, attending concerts or performances or other extra-curricular activities, or even just having a day out with ice cream and trips to an arcade or the movies. 

...However, with Dick stuck in bed and nothing else to occupy his mind at the moment, this day just seemed like that slowest. one. EVER. 

Batman sighed, refreshing his email again. No new messages from Wayne Enterprises, and no urgent messages from Commissioner Barbara. Just like there hadn’t been any new messages for the past hour. 

In between waiting for something - anything - to happen, Batman tried to keep himself busy as best he could. Taking inventory on his bat-a-rangs to make sure none were missing, doing a bit of editing on some of his latest rap tracks, and even taking some time to design a new costume for Dick - one that would be perfect for any Freezing Villain related missions.

...And wasn’t that the real problem he was facing up against? (And totally losing against, not that he would ever admit it.) No matter what he did, he just kept directing his attention back to his sick son.

“...” The vigilante glanced back up towards the ceiling of the Bat Cave, narrowing his eyes. “...It’s been about an hour, right? ...Yeah, I should probably check on him again. Just to make sure.” 

The trip from the Bat Cave to ‘Bruce Wayne’s attic’ took barely any time at all, and before he knew it he was back in Dick’s room. “Hey kiddo,” he said quietly, poking his head through the door, “How are you doing?” A couple coughs was his only reply. “Still sick, huh? Well, do you need anything? I mean, I’ll probably be heading downstairs again anyway so, I just figured I’d ask.”

“Nah, i’m good,” Dick replied, his voice muffled by the blanket, “Thanks anyway, Padre...”

“Yeah, no problem, buddy,” Batman nodded, closing the door. 

Dick sighed, sniffling a few times before closing his eyes once more. He just needed a bit more sleep... Maybe some soup too. Warm soup, like what his mom used to make. That definitely sounded nice... And maybe a bubble bath too. But not now. Right now he just needed a little more-

He felt something touch his forehead, and immediately his eyes were open again. “Oh, sorry,” Batman told him, though he still kept his hand on the boy’s forehead, “Just double checking. Wouldn’t want your fever going up, you know?”

“Ugh, right...” Thankfully his father didn’t take too long to check his temperature, but by the time Dick managed to fall back asleep, he was interrupted again. Though this time, it was by his butler/grandpa.

“Pardon me, Master Dick,” he heard Alfred say, “But I believe it’s time for your next dose of medicine.” Dick groaned, but sat up anyway, knowing that he needed it. “So, how are you feeling, Master Dick?”

“Tired mostly...” Dick mumbled, rubbing his eyes, “Still feel sorta hot... My nose isn’t as stuffy but-” He coughed a couple times, his voice a bit raspier now, “But my throat still sorta hurts...”

Alfred smiled, gently patting him on the head. “I’ll be sure to pour you some tea to go with your supper. I believe you wanted soup?” Dick gave him a small smile as a reply. “Very good, Sir. Now, here-” He handed him a small cup of medicine, which the boy quickly took despite it’s terrible taste. 

Once that was done, Dick laid back down, already closing his eyes. “Thank you, Master Dick,” he heard his grandpa quietly say as he stood up and headed towards the door, “Now, get some rest. I’ll make your supper around 7, but if you decide that you want it earlier, you only need to call and I’ll-” The door was opened, and the butler paused. “...Master Bruce, do you need something?”

“Nah, I’m fine. Just, you know, checking in on Dick.” ...Again.

Hearing his youngest master sigh from his bed, Alfred tried to step in. “I just checked on him, sir. His condition hasn’t changed much since this morning, but I can assure you that he will be alri-”

“Right, right, thanks Alfred,” Batman told him as he walked past him, “Hey kiddo! You need anything?”

“Nooo...” Dick replied, making it seem more like a moan than an answer.

“You sure?” Batman asked, sitting down on the bed, “Cause, I don’t mind-”

“Yeah, dad, I’m sure.” The boy was scowling slightly now. 

“Okay, okay. ...But you know, if you want me to just stay around here and-”

“Ughhhhh.” Dick grabbed his covers and pulled them over his head as he sunk further into his bed. “Bruce, just go awaaaaaay...!” A muffled, still slightly voice added.

Batman blinked, more surprised than actually offended. "Oh. ...Uh, yeah. Sure thing.” So, that’s what he did. He stood up, and followed Alfred out of the bedroom, making sure to close the door behind him.

“...You know, Master Bruce,” Alfred started to say before Batman could start to leave, “Most children don’t have much patience while they’re sick, so I wouldn’t take Master Dick’s snapping too personally-”

“I’m not, I’m not. It’s just-” The vigilante sighed, shaking his head. “I was being dumb. I don’t even blame him for snapping at me. I just wanted to make sure- Ugh, but I was just bothering him all day! Treating him like, what, someone who was ‘gravely injured’ or whatever? What is wrong with me? Why did I-?”

He then felt a firm yet gentle hand on his shoulder. Glancing over, he saw Alfred smirking at him slightly. The old butler was certainly amused, but there was warmth as well.

“It’s called being a parent, Master Bruce. And, for the record, most new parents become just as - if not more - concerned the first time their child is sick.” 

“...” Batman stared at him, not really having a response to that and still admittedly feeling just a bit foolish. Still, he did manage a small nod.

Alfred nodded back at him. “Now, it’s still a few hours until dusk. And I believe I remember you saying something a while ago about possibly adding a few more features to the Bat-Dune Buggy?”

“Yeah... Sounds good, Alfred.” Though, really, he had finished those new features a couple weeks back. But even so, Batman starting heading back downstairs, fairly certain that he could still find something to keep him busy. “Just... Make sure to call me if he starts getting really sick or, or something like that. Okay?”

“Of course,” Alfred agreed, watching as his master walked away. 

()()()()()()()()()()

The night hadn’t been too exciting. No big supervillain schemes, at least. Just some small-time stuff. A few robberies, a couple gang fights, and one runaway bus. Definitely a bit boring for Gotham, but part of him was glad he didn’t have to tell Dick that he had missed out on some big, awesome, incredible save-the-day moment.  

...Still, along with being a bit boring, crime fighting had also been a bit quieter than usual without the chatty Boy Wonder by his side...

Giving a small sigh, Batman stretched for a moment before hoping out of his Batmobile. It had been several hours. No calls from Alfred. Nothing to be worried about. ...And yet... “Okay, one last time,” he told himself, not even bothering to change before stepping into the elevator, “Then I’ll go back to leaving him alone.”

The manor was dark, practically silent. Then again, that was to be expected for two in the morning. But even the stairs refused to creak as he made his way back up to his son’s bedroom. Slowly, he opened the door, and peeked inside.

A lamp had been left on, giving the room a sort of warm, peaceful glow. Next to the bed were a couple of dirty dishes and, while he was pretty much in the same sleeping position as before, Dick was wearing a new pair of pajamas. He still sniffled a bit in his sleep, but his face wasn’t as pale nor were his cheeks and nose as red.

Feeling relief flood into his chest, Batman smiled. Just as Alfred had said. Nothing to worry about. So, he closed the door-

“Dad?”

The vigilante’s body froze. He could hear the shuffling of blankets, and as he opened the door back up, he saw Dick staring back at him.

“...Yeah. Uh, sorry,” Batman mumbled, “I, I was trying not to- Look, just go back to-”

“It’s okay,” Dick told him, giving a small smile, “Heh, I’m actually kinda feeling awake now. Guess that’s what happens when you sleep pretty much all day, huh?”

“...” His father gave a small chuckle, smiling back at him as he moved further into the room. “Yep, guess so.”

“Heh. ...Still, sorry I couldn’t go out on patrol tonight.” Dick frowned a bit at that, but Batman just patted him on the shoulder. 

“Hey, it’s fine. You didn’t miss much. Just some robbers and a couple fights. Just the usual, nothing too exciting.”

“Well, still... Oh! But I’m feeling better now!” Sitting up, Dick cleared his throat before continuing. “I mean, my throat still sorta hurts, and my nose is still sorta stuffy. But I don’t feel nearly as bad as I did before.”

Batman grinned. “Hey, that’s great, buddy! Glad to hear it.”

“Heh, I thought you would,” the boy beamed, “Now you don’t have to worry about me as much, even if I still have to stay in bed another day or so.”

Batman flinched, glancing away. “Er, what? Tc’ch, come on, kid. I wasn’t worried! Batman never worries! He’s always calm and cool and-” He stopped, catching the flat look his son was giving him. “...Okay fine, maybe I was worried. Just a little. Not that much. But, still-” He pulled Dick into a one-armed hug, “Glad to hear you’re doing alright.”

Dick giggled returning the hug. “Thanks, Padre. ...Heh, I guess next time we fight Mr. Freeze, I should bring a coat or something so this doesn’t happen again.”

“Yeah, I guess. ...Orrrr-” Batman gave him a smirk, “You could just wear the new super-cool but also super-warm super suit that I’m designing for you. And yes, before you ask, it still has a sparkly cape.”

“Alright! WOO HOO!” Dick cheered, giving his father another hug. “I can’t believe it! My first alternate hero costume!” Maybe one day he’d have a whole closet full of cool alternate super-suits, just like his batdad! “Thanks, dad.”

“Heh, yeah,” Batman nodded, smiling just as much as his son was, “No problem, kid.” 

The two ended up talking for several more minutes. Batman might have been the worried one, but Dick had still missed his father after not seeing him for most of the day. So, they sat in the bed, talking about whatever came to mind and simply enjoying each other’s company. 

But eventually, Dick did start to doze off once more, so Batman decided to finally make his leave. Besides, he had his own late night/early morning routine to get to, if the growling in his stomach was any indication. Still, before he left, he did make sure to tuck Dick in, making sure he was comfortable and even giving him a quick kiss on the head before leaving him be. “Sleep well, Dick,” he said quietly, giving the sleeping boy a warm smile before shutting the door.

And, with both his mind and heart now at ease, it was now time to deal with his stomach! “I wonder if Alfred bought any more of those crab cakes,” Batman wondered out loud as he walked down the long staircase, “Man, those things are almost as good as lobs-”

He stopped, coughing a bit as he felt a slight tickle in his throat. “...ter. Huh. That was weird.” Almost immediately, a single thought came to his mind. But, as quickly as it came, Batman pushed it away. “Eh, just a random cough. I mean, come on, Batman doesn’t get sick! And even if he did, it would take WAY more than contagious cough to take him dow-”

He stopped, coughing again - this time, a bit harder. And once he finished, he did sniffle, just a little. “...down. Hmph.” Okay, but he still didn’t have a cold. DEFINITELY not a cold! Batman never gets sick!

...But, maybe he would still take a bit of medicine with his supper, just in case.

THE END

((Hope you all enjoyed this! It’s been a while since I’ve written anything Lego Batman so, I hope it was alright. Thanks for reading! ^v^))

[impishnature]

Comfort

Rating: G Summary: Prompt from @ghost-soda-blog ‘Your smile’s not as bright as it used to be’ AN: This one got huge and then my pc deleted it ;A; I managed to save about 4000 words and just got back round to writing the other 1000-1500. Fingers crossed it’s as good as the first version!

It was a quiet day in the Mystery Shack, a peaceful lull in amidst the usual daily visitors and the exuberant bursts of activity that only the Pines family seemed capable of.

Or at least it was quiet, the early morning sunlight filtering through the window, the air soft and hushed as the family inside slowly awoke from, for once, blissful dreams. It was a quiet, unusually normal, morning for the household, tranquil, warm and frankly calming in nature.

That is, until there was a sudden loud clatter from inside an open doorway, a cloud of dust escaping to billow out onto the landing along with a string of curses that quickly cut out into a coughing fit.

"God, this- hack- this place is a mess." Ford flinched back quickly as another plume of dust puffed out of the box he'd been elbow deep in. He hadn't meant to cause quite so much damage, the grit and grime of the room cementing onto his skin irritatingly, gaining another layer with what felt like every movement. It made him want to instantly leave and have a shower, maybe return with cleaning materials instead of making any headway into the job at hand. Procrastination reared it's head as well as he stared at the upended boxes that he'd managed to knock over, wondering about tidying them up, cleaning up after himself or continuing in his mission to find the precious childhood boxes that, even whilst angry with his brother, he hadn't had the heart to throw away.

He steeled himself as he visualised the boxes, cleaning and tidying could wait, a shower could wait, until he had found what he was searching for. He turned back to the open one he had managed to pull from the pile, the scrawled words across the side giving him hope as he trawled through it for the items he desperately wanted to find.

Anything to help with Stan's memories. Anything at all.

The fervour spurred him on, a small pile of items forming on the floor beside him, glittering memories to show him. Yet at the same time it had to contend with the nerves tugging at his heartstrings, the whispering, niggling voice in his chest that told him even now it was all for nothing. So terrified that the blank stare would come his way, the apologetic frown and guilty eyes that could so easily morph into self-loathing if Ford didn't school his disappointment quickly enough.

He wasn't sure he could take it. He needed Stan to remember him, but the thought of trying and getting nowhere... he didn't know if he had it in him not to break.

"I'm sorry. I don't remember."

It was hard to listen to his brother apologise so earnestly. It just wasn't like him.

None of this was like him, not the Stan that he remembered.

He sighed deeply, brushing the thoughts aside as he got to work, ignoring the steadily growing doubts. He couldn't just stop trying, that wasn't an option. Sure it hurt like hell, and his chest ached with every failure, but something had to give at some point. Something- anything at all, would at some point open the floodgates and let all the memories back in.

It had to.

So therefore, he couldn't just give up. Not when his brother was trying so hard, not when the kids had already shown it could be done.

He gave a high-pitch squawk, thoughts derailed as another item wedged behind a box became dislodged and fell at him, quick fumbling motions pushing it back upright and tilted to the wall. His hands hovered over it nervously, waiting for it to move again for a few more seconds, his eyes narrowed reproachfully at the inanimate object for stopping him in his efforts. He knew it was just a distraction, but he found himself latching on to it, anything better than his looming thoughts at that moment as he went back to the box, words slipping off his tongue to push back the silent darkness brewing and keep himself centred in the here and now. Right where his family was, right where Stan was. That's where he needed to be, right now. Right by their sides and ready to risk everything to stitch their little family back together again. "Honestly, Stan, is this really how you store things? This room's a death trap." He gave an exasperated but endearing huff as his eyes scanned the small storage room that clearly hadn't seen the light of day in years.

Nor had it seen a vacuum, or a duster, but Ford didn't really know if he was one to talk on that front.

"I guess I can't say anything. I let this place get the best of me when..." His eyebrows furrowed as he went back to looking in the box, his thoughts slipping back into the sapping gloom. His tangent of a distraction had ultimately led him to another set of memories that made his heart twist again, his stomach sinking as a myriad of emotions engulfed him. Sadness, guilt, regret, the sharp tang of shock and betrayal still so poignant even after all these years, after all the time in the world to accept that it had happened and heal.

They always said 'time healed all wounds' but Ford had yet to find the truth in the words. Blunted the pain, maybe. Dulled and scarred it back into a semblance of health but it was never truly gone, still there for all to see.

And so the thoughts slipped in even now, years later, filling him with a cold, cloying shame. Just how badly he had sunk into his frenzied paranoia. How much he had relied on Fiddleford before he ran from their project and left him to fend for himself and deal with the consequences of his actions... how busy he had then been focusing on thwarting Bill's plans that everything else had gone out the window. His health, his home, nothing else had mattered other than fixing the damage he had done by believing that Bill was his friend.

Never mind the house, I must have looked an absolute state by the time Stan met me.​

It almost left him wondering how much tidying and cleaning Stan must have done before the Mystery Shack- Or was it the Murder hut back then?- could actually function as a profitable tourist trap.

He shook his head, dispelling the thoughts. "Still, Stan obviously tidied up, lord only knows what state the kitchen was in..." He snorted to himself, the thoughts of possibly sentient experimental foodstuffs giving Stan a shock as he opened the fridge amusing him to no end. "So is this just where all the clutter went? Packaged up and dumped in here." The thought entertained him enough to slow his movements, mind drifting to images much more reminiscent of his brother, of 'cleaning' being moving things to where they were a lot less noticeable instead of putting them where they actually should be kept.

Out of sight, out of mind.​

The warm nostalgia dissipated as quickly as it had blossomed. The stark possibility that these items were hidden away because they were just too painful to look at bleeding through the cracks to join the more ironic and dismal present day circumstances that they now found themselves in.

Even more out of mind now. ​

"And that's why we've got to show it all to him again, that's all." Ford went back to his work with vehement energy, hands reaching desperately to grasp around a large heavy hardback book at the bottom of the box. "And we should be grateful it's all somehow still here, undamaged after everything that the Shack's been through during Weirdmaggedon." He paused, a mental note quickly filed away, one to come back to later, questioning what anomaly could have caused that particularly fortunate feat before continuing with the task at hand, tugging the book out from below it's peers. "So now that I know where all this stuff is, I can do something about fixing things. In sight, in mind, that's what we're working towards."

"I'm not sure that's how that saying's meant to go."

Ford yelped, a sudden presence behind him and softly spoken words making him jump out of his skin. The old box crumpled beneath his weight as he fell forwards, a soft groan escaping him as he found himself face down, book somehow still held aloft as if even subconsciously his brain had worked towards keeping it safe against all odds. He propped himself up, grimacing at the mouthful of dust he inhaled as he breathed in before turning to the now sheepish, and quietly trying not to giggle, girl staring back at him.

"Whoops, my bad." Mabel bit her lip, her mouth twitching into a full blown smile as she tried to look at least slightly apologetic. "If it helps- I think I like your version of the saying more?"

"That does help my bruised pride, yes." Ford smiled back at her, sitting up and shaking his head. He chuckled as her giggles intensified, bubbling past her still tight lips, a raining halo of dust escaping his hair as he moved.

"Your hair's even greyer now."

"I bet."

"Looks good though."

That really did get a snort, and a raised eyebrow at his niece.

"OK, maybe not, but I was trying to be nice." Mabel shuffled slowly into the room, slippers scuffing as she yawned and scrubbed at her eyes. "What ya doing, Grunkle Ford?"

Ford ignored the question, focusing on the sleepiness still permeating from the young girl. "I feel like I should be asking you that. There's no need for you to be up yet."

Mabel fixed him with a pointed look, smug and cheeky. "Yeah well... you're kind of loud?"

"Oh. Oh, of course, I'm sorry-" He hadn't even thought about how far the noise would travel around the house. What was he thinking looking through the storage room in the early hours? "I didn't mean to wake you, you should go back up to bed."

"Nah, I'm much more interested in what you're doing." Mabel leaned over him, looking into the now partially destroyed box. "Anything interesting hidden away in here?"

"Quite a few things actually." Ford nodded towards the small pile of items beside him, though his hands stayed trailing reverently over the book in his hands.

Mabel gave a passing glance to the pile before following his movements, the dots connecting as to which item was the more interesting. She sat cross-legged in front of him with arms outstretched, hands making curious grabbing motions. "Can I see?"

Ford grinned brightly, the smile mirroring on to her face quickly, happy to see him happy. "Yes! Of course." He looked up and down between her face and the book hesitantly, hands tapping against the cover. He wasn't worried that anything would happen to it, more just plucking up the courage to let go of it so soon after finally finding it once more. He struggled for a few wavering seconds before handing it over to her, brushing the nerves aside when he saw her patient expression. "Here."

He couldn't help but feel warmth spread as Mabel took the book slowly and surely, her face filled with concentration. She had obviously noticed his small distress at parting with it and wanted to be sure he knew he had nothing to worry about.

The book was in safe hands, that he was sure of.

She looked back up at him with a quizzical smile, hand laid flat on the front cover. It took a few seconds for him to realise she was waiting for an explanation before she looked inside. "Oh! Right, so this box here has-" He gestured behind him before giving a sharp bark of laughter. "OK, scrap that, the box is out of action now. This box was given to me when I moved out of college, my parents were throwing a lot of stuff out and said as I had my own place now it was up to me whether I kept any of it." He gave a sigh, remembering the gruff unimpressed words spewing from his father's mouth as he'd stowed the boxes in the back of his car. I don't know why you'd want the reminders, myself. They're not worth anything to anyone. If it's just to appease your mother feel free to throw it all away before you even get out of town. Good riddance to the lot of it. "A-anyway-" Ford smiled, awkward and not quite genuine as the words battered away inside his head, a small vicious battle looming as he argued them back to the recesses where they belonged. "I won't go into too much detail until later when Stan's awake. But that right there?" He tapped the cover of the book, her gaze following the movement. "That is a particularly special photo album of ours."

Mabel blinked a few times uncomprehendingly before an impossibly bigger smile blossomed across her face at the knowledge slotting into place. "It's a photo album?!" The words were exuberant though hushed, as her eyes snapped back to the front cover, glad to have waited for him to speak before she opened it now. "It doesn't look like a photo album. Why doesn't it look like a photo album? Is it you and Grunkle Stan as kids? We need more photos of you two as kids. What's special about it? Why is-"

"Whoa, whoa there, too many questions at once!" Ford held up his hands, batting away her questions with bright amusement before gesturing for her to open it. Her excitement was a breath of fresh air, brushed the brewing thunderclouds from his mind, the looming worries that it all wouldn't be enough to bring Stan back to them. "Why don't you have a look inside and tell me what you think is special about it?"

Mabel squealed softly, rocking from side to side as she did as he asked, her enthusiasm almost tangible in the still air around them. He didn't need to peer over her shoulder to see exactly what she was seeing, the book still a vivid fond memory even if, for some time, he hadn't been able to bring himself to look at it.

The first page was a sketch, scribbled and crude against what he could now achieve but he knew he'd been proud of it all the same, at the time. It was after all the first day in a myriad of bright memories that even then he had know were somehow important. It covered both pages, that drawing, a double page spread of a small shipwreck, white and shining, a stark beacon in the middle of a shadowed, mysterious cave.

There was a note beside it, not written by himself, one he had trailed his finger along countless times and was embedded into his memory as clearly as the voice he could still hear saying it. His brother's first addition of many to what he could probably say was his very first journal.

One day, Sixer, us and the Stan'O'War will be out there where we belong!​

One day.

He had begun to hope for that again himself recently.

The musings vanished along with the turning of the pages, a little gasp here and there as sketches became photos, an old camera that wouldn't sell in the pawn shop becoming their joint birthday present that year. They were both thrilled, the Stan'O'Wars restoration becoming photographed at every milestone they could afford, with either one or both of them somewhere in the mix as well.

The best photos were the ones when they'd managed to intrigue their mother enough to come and have a look, her snapshots of them both beaming proudly aboard their project some of his favourite images of all. He still had one, nestled tight in the pocket of his trench coat, that had survived the harsh journey through the portal and brought him comfort on homesick nights when Earth seemed just so far out of reach.

He smiled off into the distance for a few seconds, as Mabel lost herself in the book, his thoughts turning more optimistic. It was the perfect trip down memory lane, the Stan'O'War so ingrained in their childhoods-

Stan had to remember that once he saw the photo album.

... He just had to.

His smile dimmed as the nerves crept back in, those hissing thoughts that even this might not work latching back on, to tear and claw at his resolve. He dragged his gaze back to the present in the hopes that Mabel would kick the malaise away once and for all that morning. He needed it gone before he saw Stan, not wanting his own doubts to eat away at him too. Stan didn't deserve that, it would manifest as anger, self-loathing for disappointing Ford and he couldn't have that.

So who better to push all the doubts away than his little shining star?

He shifted forwards, smile forcefully pulled across his teeth, eyes squinting with the force he was exerting as he went to ask her what she thought of the album, hoping against hope that her usual expressive nature would brush away the remaining fog clouding his own head-

Only his words got lodged somewhere between his brain and his tongue, slipping out of his open mouth to scatter amongst the dust that littered the floor.

His little star didn't seem to be shining.

And he hadn't even noticed.

He gulped, his mouth suddenly dry as he shuffled awkwardly where he sat. Her face was so... hard to read, her usual expressive emotions so easily distinguishable nowhere to be seen. Instead there was just a small puckered frown, her mouth twisting down and her eyebrows furrowed but he couldn't quite tell if it was in sadness or in deep thought. There were no tears, not like the heartbreaking moment when Stan hadn't recognised her, nor the stark movements of her determination once they were home and she refused to give up.

This was so much... hollower, colder than anything he had seen from her before.

There were no tears, no loud bursts of anguish or denial, no optimistic chirps or that giggle that never failed to make him smile along with her.

Just her gaze locked to the picture in front of her, finger trailing across their faces as if she was seeing something he had no way of knowing. Silent and thoughtful, her face somehow impossibly sad and yet closed off all at once.

He didn't like it, not one bit and he liked even less that he might have caused it.

"Mabel? Are you OK, sweetheart? Have I done something wrong? I, uhh- oh, please don't look so- I never meant to upset you. I just thought you'd, oh, I don't know, like to see these old things- or s-something like that?" He couldn't come up with a cohesive sentence, his brain shutting down slightly in a cacophony of confused concerns. He tilted down lower to try and be at eye level as she blinked and seemed to come back into the room.

She shook herself, small hands jerking away from the book to pull her circling finger back into her tiny fists, held to her chest. She smiled up at him, still shaking her head. "I wanted to see, I really like seeing this, thank you."

"But?" Ford couldn't help but push, her smile was back but there was something unsettling about it, so almost perfect that he was even more keenly aware of the absence of her true smile.

"But..." Mabel's smile faulted, growing sad and understanding, levelling him with eyes that were far too old for her face. His heart thudded painfully, his own smile glued to his face in a semblance of normality even as he wondered just what toll this summer had had on the young girl.

She'd grown up suddenly- too suddenly. She shouldn't have needed to grow up so fast. Shouldn't be looking at him with a look that said so much and so little all at once about what was going on behind her sad shining eyes.

"....Your smile's not as bright as it used to be."

"Oh... I-" Ford sat back at the words, not having expected that as an explanation. Mabel let the book drop slightly so he could see the image, a copy of the one that he kept close to his chest at all times. That day when they had been so proud, so ready to go off on an adventure and take the world on, just the two of them.

He envied their smiles, he had for a long while. He'd envied the bond that had been broken when he had stared at it on many an occasion, wished for nothing more than his brother and his best friend back beside him once more, wished that he could go back in time and pretend again that his brother was the person he'd always thought he was.

The one who had always had his back.

But it had all gone up in smoke, everything turned on it's head that night when he'd felt so completely and utterly betrayed by the one person he never thought would hurt him. He'd envied his younger self's ignorance more than anything else, the bond before it had been torn to shreds and he'd been left doubting everything he thought he'd known.

Wherever we go, we go together!

He'd envied the lie.

And now? Now he envied that smile, that bright nostalgic moment for far different reasons though their components mounted up to the same conclusions.

Wherever we go, we go together!

Now he envied the truth.

That Stan had never meant to hurt him, not like that.

He'd told himself so many times that everything his brother had said must have been a lie, that he'd never been the person he'd grown up thinking he was, that he'd actually started to believe it himself.

Now... Now he just wanted his brother back again.

He hated that where his brother had gone, he couldn't follow.

He hated that he couldn't keep their age old promise.

But... the photo gave him far more hope than it once had.

Because maybe now, with it's help, he could bring his brother just that bit closer to being himself again.

Ford gave a soft smile, the worry that had begun to manifest as he went silent easing from Mabel's face with the expression. "A lot has happened since then, unfortunately."

Mabel nodded, understanding and reassuringly, though still sad. "Yeah, I just... wish it hadn't?"

Ford watched as Mabel's hand lightly trailed over Stan's face, soft and hesitant as if scared that by touching it, it would all vanish, and with the motion his heart sank just a little bit more.

A lot had happened since that photo was taken.

Both him and Stan had changed.

He might have lost his smile, but they had lost far more when it came to Stan. "Mabel-"

Mabel shook herself again as he spoke, hand once again pulled away quickly as she smiled up at him. It was closer, a soft sincerity to it, even if it wasn't exactly what had been expecting from her in that instant. Anything that gave her back her optimistic attitude was OK with him, however. "But! But- it's getting much better." She pointed at his face with obvious happy scrutiny. "It's already a lot brighter than it was when you first came back through the portal. And I mean, it's not surprising with all that weirdness going on that, well you know-" She gestured uselessly, frowning at her inability to word it. "But whenever Grunkle Stan remembers even a little bit more you get this big smile on your face." She nodded to herself, still appraising him, punching a fist into her other open hand. "So I bet we can have it this bright again when we get the last few of Grunkle Stan's memories back... right?"

He liked that she used the word 'when' instead of 'if'. That alone made him nod along with her, his smile soft but genuine.

"Yes, true, very true. We'll both get there."

"That's the spirit! And I bet we can get Grunkle Stan's smile just as big as well when he sees this and remembers all the great times you two had."

Ford could feel some of the tension lifting, her exuberant spirit rubbing off on him. His gaze grew more determined as he turned back to what was left of the box behind him, hands at his hips as he got himself ready for another dive into the dust cloud. "I can't argue with that. I think it's time to get back to it and see what else I can find. What do you think?"

"I think that's a great idea! Is it OK if I keep looking through what you've already found?"

"Of course it is, I always welcome your company, sweetie."

The was a strange tension to the air, it ebbed and flowed in waves across them and Ford found himself faltering, unsure as to what to do about it all.

He had dived back into his work with vigour, letting Mabel's chatter keep him focused in the present. Asking questions and pointing out bright shining photos that she thought would be the best examples to show Stan first. It had worked well, the pair of them in tandem, Mabel's presence a bright spark to keep him from sinking back into his thoughts or letting the dirt and dust get the better of him.

All this had a purpose, he could get cleaned up later, each new find an accomplishment as the pair gathered a now growing pile of assorted memories ready and waiting to be brought back to the forefront.

Each one brought a new set of questions, a gleeful chirping as Ford reminisced, arms gesturing widely with the stories he was spinning and half the time accidentally causing more cascades of boxes in the cramped quarters.

...The exuberant conversations didn't always last long though.

As soon as he went back to continue his endeavours, as soon as she thought he was zoned into his work, Mabel's voice dropped away from his peripheral. The atmosphere grew colder, quieter as she went back to staring at the book in her hands. It was like a switch flicked whenever she thought he couldn't see her, her bubbly optimism a mask that she wore to make sure he didn't worry. But he noticed, as much as she didn't want him to, he noticed as her words tapered off, caught out of the corner of his eye as her smile cracked and fell away, her eyes losing the spark of happiness he had grown to love.

And then the smile would be back full force, her words blossoming back out as she came back into the room and asked another question.

And for a while, Ford could doubt himself, could distract himself with the hope that he was just worrying too much and she was fine, that he had been seeing and feeling things. That he had projected all of his own doubts and nerves on to her and that was all it was.

For a while, the light would be back in the room, the clouds dispersed as they both distracted themselves and carried on moving forward, their little world turned ever onwards and they carried on pretending that everything was as it should be.

But then they'd run out of things to say again.

And the room would grow colder.

And Ford couldn't pretend he'd been seeing things any longer as the world went off kilter and his little star's glow grew faint and distant.

He didn't know what to do, what could he say? Was there anything that would actually help matters? He didn't want to lie to her, he didn't want to give her false hope but he didn't want to let her lose hope either.

Her hope had given them Stan back, she hadn't been able to give up on him and he'd never be able to thank her enough for what that accomplished.

He just hoped he'd be able to do the same when the time came, put together the last few pieces of his memories so that the person they all knew and loved could finally stand beside them whole again.

That didn't help him now though, not when it was Mabel that needed comforting.

He stood up from the box he'd been blindly rummaging in, biting at his lip as he wondered how to broach the subject.

And in that moment, her own words came back to him, his shoulders relaxing as an idea formed.

"Hey Sweetheart?"

"Yeah?" Mabel looked up from her spot, head tilted as she stared up at him with doleful eyes. She smiled at him, inviting him to continue but Ford could see right through the crafted expression, the light not quite reaching her eyes, even as she consciously shook away whatever it was distracting her.

"Your smile's not as bright as it used to be." Ford crouched down in front of her, face concerned and understanding as he regarded her now shocked expression. Her little face wavered, her lip wobbling as she opened her mouth and shook her head against whatever it was that was now bubbling up. He could see it, plain as day on her face, but she was still struggling so desperately to deny it, to keep on smiling, keep on pretending that everything was OK because that was what was expected. Part of him worried he was pushing but her mouth opened again as if the words wanted to flood out before she pressed her lips together in a thin line, her expression shamefaced and guilty.

She didn't want to worry him, she didn't want to say whatever it was on her mind because she was the positive one and she had to keep up the facade.

She thought she had to be strong.

That wasn't her burden to bear.

"Do you want to tell me what's troubling you?"

The words came out in a soft rumble of concern, reassuring and comforting in their warmth and in his willingness to listen. His heart broke when he saw the exact moment her willpower crumbled under the weight of it all, as if his words had opened the floodgate to all the things that had been festering away inside her without any outlet to disperse from. Her nod in return was almost lost beneath her sudden lurch forward, the book slipping from her knees as she buried herself in his chest. He fell back into a seated position, arms wrapping round her instinctively and protectively as she shook and sobbed into his shoulder, her words unable to slip through the overwhelming onslaught of emotions that had abruptly descended.

It had been a long trying time on all of them, these last few days, of course she needed a moment to let it all out.

He was only too happy to help, anything to get that smile back where it belonged.

Her proper smile, that is, not the mask of optimism she was so intensely trying to maintain.

Her smile, her bubbling attitude wouldn't just bounce back like she was trying to pretend it could but he was sure with time, with her family all around her, they could bring it back.

He shushed her firmly but gently as she hiccupped, a half mumbled apology on her lips that he refused to accept. She had nothing to apologise for. He rocked her gently from side to side, one hand running soothingly through her hair.

"It's OK. I've got you. Everything's going to be OK."

He didn't want her to pretend she was fine when she wasn't. She didn't need to apologise for needing help.

That's what he was there for.

He needed her to know that, needed her to know that they were all there for her.

He pulled her in even tighter, glad when her little arms followed suit around his neck, tightening as she burrowed further into his warm embrace as if glad for the grounding presence as she let all the emotion out.

"We'll all get there, I promise. Just you wait, I'll make sure of it."

The words became a mantra in the quiet room, a small safe bubble whilst the rest of household slept on.

"I've got you. We're all going to be OK. I promise, everything will be OK."

AN: And done. This prompt was just too good to choose who said it to who so both of them said it! ^o^ 

[nautilusopus]

The Number I

Chapter 13: If You Thought This Story Was Dialogue-Heavy Already Then Buddy Have I Got Some News For You

I really need to stop second-guessing chapters because it just causes delays and GOOD GOLLY was a lot of garbage posted in this tag in my absence. Longer chapter than usual to make up for that and wipe away the bad taste a front page full of rapefic and paedoshit and repetitive garbage tends to leave in one's mouth.

Also I'd just like to mention my recommended videos are full of industrial lathe accidents and eye surgery now and YouTube refuses to show me anything else. The sacrifices I've made for this stupid ass story. You're welcome.

Thank you to @fury-brand, @limbostratus, @cateringisalie, and @auncyen, because this one needed a lot of work.

There are holes in the world, and spaces between numbers. Neither should exist. Cloud starts noticing them, and he isn’t the only one who has. And unfortunately for him, he’s both. (Contains graphic depictions of violence.)

Cloud had been doing paperwork for the last three hours. He eventually learned it was three hours because Tifa had come to him in the middle of hour two, wondering what he'd been up to. He'd said "nothing", and as far as he knew that was accurate because none of the work was done and he had been sure before it had only been ten minutes. He'd been staring at the holes in his wall for longer than he'd thought.

Everything felt fuzzy today. It was Yuffie's turn to watch him right now, and he'd blanked out twice in the middle of her conversation. She'd said something to him. About him? Maybe. He knew he'd said something, too. She'd said something after that, but without the sentence before it he didn't know how he was supposed to reply to this one.

"...Yes?" he offered.

Yuffie crossed her arms. "What did I just ask you?"

He didn't know. He was supposed to know, wasn't he? If he didn't know the answer fast enough, she'd be mad, and --

"I was asking you if you needed help with expenses. You said yes, and then I asked you which part you wanted me to work on first," said Yuffie. Was she mad? She was probably mad now.

"Oh," said Cloud.

"Well, let me have a look," she said, and leaned over the form he was working on. She stared at it, then looked back at Cloud.

"So... is this a prank?" said Yuffie, and held up the paper he'd been working on for him to see. He'd blacked out most of the form, nearly every inch covered in formless scribbles.

"That's..." Now that she had brought it to his attention, Cloud did have a vague memory of doing that. It had made sense at the time, and he knew it wasn't right now, but couldn't quite put his finger on why that would be the case.

"It's that modern art you hear so much about, right?" said Yuffie, before crumpling the paper. "Are you feeling okay?"

"Yes."

"You are Cloud, right?"

"Yeah." He was, wasn't he? "I'm Cloud. I'm Cloud."

"Prove it. What did you get me for my birthday?"

"Water canteen. Materia inlay. I made it." She was mad. If she was mad at him, they'd make him listen for longer this time. There was a chemical tang to the air.

"...Yeah, I guess so. So did you want help with this stuff or not?"

"...What?" She wanted something. He didn't know what. He was supposed to know. She would be mad.

Yuffie rolled her eyes. "Y'know, let's do this later." Something seemed to click for her, and she turned back to him. Cloud flinched at the sudden movement.

"Tell me what you want to do later," said Yuffie pointedly. Cloud stared at her. He couldn't seem to point his thoughts in any particular direction right now. Doing later. What you want to do. What I want to do. I want. Want to do I want I am I want. A muscle in his arm spasmed.

Yuffie seemed to take his hesitation as a sign and wheeled his office chair over to the bed before dumping him out of it onto the blankets. There was too much noise in his own head, drowning out his own thoughts, and then drowning out him. There was a woman fussing about him, positioning him against something soft and folding him into a shape for her to slip in next to so she could write words into him more easily. He was melting into the walls, which were already covered with the words he'd let leak out. His arm arced out involuntarily, grasping frantically at something that wasn’t there.

The bits of him that used to be Cloud dissolved back into the green. It was too much trouble to be anyone, let alone be Cloud, right now. This is fine, was the last thought he managed to have for a while.

Schhhhhhick.

The sound was satisfyingly smooth, as good as the blade felt in his hand, lighter than air despite the reinforced steel it was supposedly made of. His breathing was heavy, his blood pounding in his ears, the scent of combat, of adrenaline and sweat and a mix of hormones he didn't even know how to describe, hanging richly in the air. A red heat sprayed up his arm and into his face. He let the body of the monster he'd run through slump off his sword, leaving it on the ground where it had fallen next to what remained of the other three.

A buzzer sounded, and he lay the sword down on the floor in front of him and stepped away, kneeling on the ground and putting his hands behind his head. Some of the blood ran past his nose and into his mouth, delivering a wealth of information that only parts of him, the old parts, could use. The lab aides quickly rushed in and began removing various sensors from him that had been monitoring his vitals, and the guards quickly escorted him out of the examination room once they were done.

He had grown taller in the time he'd been here (one year? ten?) -- not a whole lot taller, since he had never exactly been large, but enough to be the last bit of height he had to go. No longer a boy, very nearly a man. They had improved him, for which he was grateful. It felt good to be as strong as he was, to know he was better, the same way he knew he was taller. To know he was being made whole. To perform well for them, all these humans that had made him everything he was, and to finally begin whispering back to Mother.

The things he fought varied from week to week in size and shape, but they were otherwise generally consistent -- older specimens. The bad ones, the ones that didn't work out, and were consigned to the storage room until a use had been found for them. In this case, that use was bettering him, Series 3 of the Jenova Project. Giving him something to cut through, so they could measure how skillfully he did it. That was all they were good for.

Not like him. Not like Cloud.

In front of his cell, they were met with Hojo standing in the hallway accompanied by a pair of guards of his own, his hands steepled expectantly. Cloud stood and waited to be addressed.

"Welcome back, Series 3. It seems congratulations are in order."

Cloud waited, either for the professor to be finished speaking, or for him to be given orders to speak.

"Your performance this week has been excellent thus far," he continued, now only barely managing to stare down at Cloud due to his recent growth spurt. "My expectations for you were quite high as it stood, and yet in the three years since this leg of the project began, you have still managed to exceed them by leaps and bounds."

Cloud nodded after a moment, judging the risks of speaking unprompted. It appeared to be expected here, though. "Thank you, professor," he said.

"Your cooperation has been noted as well. I have therefore decided that you are worth investing in at this stage, as the potential next iteration of Soldier... among other things," he said, clearly pleased with his work. "And the President happens to agree. As such, I think we're due for a few formalities. As well as certain rewards, for good behaviour."

He stepped back and nodded to the guards escorting him to open the door to his cell. Cloud kept his eyes on the ground so Hojo wouldn't see the confusion in them. He should know what was going on, probably. Shouldn't he?

He was led inside, and the door wasn't shut immediately behind him prompting him to actually look up around himself. His eyes landed on his cot, and his mouth fell open.

It was a sword. A real sword, a proper sword, one that he probably wouldn't break by putting his full strength behind it. It was massive, nearly as tall as him, and more than half as wide. The blade was finely sharpened, the metal engraved, with a hinge near the base with a couple hollows for storing materia directly in the blade, for easier spell channeling. A sword that must have needed to be specially commissioned, which wouldn't be done for just anyone. A sword designed with an incredible amount of strength and destructive power in the arm of the wielder in mind.

A Soldier First Class's sword.

His sword.

Next to it, neatly folded, was a distinctive uniform and a pauldron.

Cloud's knees went weak.

Hojo watched intently from the doorway as Cloud knelt down next to it and reached out a shaking hand to grasp the hilt. "Perform well enough, and perhaps one day when the world is ready for you it will be official."

His arms suddenly felt like jelly as well, and he supported the blade with his other hand, looking it over. It was his sword. His. Just like a Soldier.

"Thank you," he managed to choke out.

"Hm." The guards began to file out. Cloud didn't look back at any of them, busy looking at his sword. His sword.

"Earn it." The door slid shut.

I will, though Cloud, the sword sitting on his lap, the uniform pressed into his face. I will. I will.

He fell asleep that night, on his cot and under his blanket that he had earned, next to his sword, the First Class uniform clutched to his chest. He really should have put it away, but he didn't want to let it out of his sight so soon. Clothes were a privilege and not a right.

He was looking forward to putting them on, but the next morning he was told to strip, and was then sprayed off with the hoses in preparation for an operation. Dr. Crescent was there, which meant it was probably an important one.

Once the sedatives were in his system he couldn't do much more than move his eyes, but from what he could see from his position on the operating table, there was something in a box that she and Hojo seemed excited about. It looked almost like a materia, and had the same sort of magical tug around it as one, but Cloud had never seen a white materia before.

He was jarred from any further contemplation when the operation began, the searing pain of the scalpel carving into his chest below his right pectoral making it significantly hard to focus on anything at all. He caught a word every now and then, about the Ancients, contact, naturally receptive. He couldn't make much sense of it, and it made even less sense when the materia was lowered into his abdominal cavity and the slow, excruciating process of sewing up what wouldn’t heal right away. After the drugs wore off, he kept quiet; both because he had not yet been addressed, and because something was concerning him.

It was strange -- although he was very, very much in contact with the materia now, the spell didn't come to him. There was no rush of knowledge, no easy recollection of all the ways one could reach into the Planet. It seemed to be reaching to him, trying to pull him somewhere, but to where he wasn't sure.

Maybe it was just because his chest hurt too much to focus. He hoped they wouldn't ask, because "nothing" was almost always a wrong answer.

After another hour or so, when he had been deposited back in his cell, he eagerly changed into the uniform -- his uniform -- and looked at his reflection in the sword. He was stronger now, his muscles more defined, and his features were sharper and more mature-looking than they had been when he was fourteen. The uniform was a bit big on him, since most Soldiers trended away from a slight build, but the shirt fit comfortably. His eyes were unmistakably glowing, and they even looked a little bit like Sephiroth's did, the pupils still just a bit more biconvex than they were perfectly round like a human's, as dilated as they were as the sedatives slowly worked their way out of his system.

It had been quite a while since he had seen his reflection (months? years?), and it was with a small jolt that he realised it was him, in that Soldier uniform, with those mako eyes, looking like a grown-up. He spent the rest of the night staring back at his reflection in the dim (though not for him) light provided by his eyes.

He didn't feel any older. He couldn't quite remember how old he'd been when he had first come here. Fifteen? Maybe sixteen. He'd been thinking of himself as such for long enough. The further back he thought, the less there was to remember. Maybe the doctors knew how old he was.

Could he buy lottery tickets? Cigarettes? Booze? Could he get married? Own a house? It had been a long time since he'd thought about any of these things, but looking at his face -- a man's face, a Soldier's face -- brought it all flooding back. These were things he wanted when he was younger. Things that came with being a grown man in Soldier.

For the first time in a while, he thought about the name tied to all those old worries. Cloud. This is what Cloud wanted, wasn't it?

He quashed the thought almost immediately, as though it were an unpleasant image. It wasn't allowed to be his name. That was bad, like Cloud. He knew how to not do anything bad anymore.

He realised after another moment that much of it wouldn't matter -- he was Shinra's now, and if Shinra hadn't mentioned these things to him yet, they probably wouldn't at any later point either. He wouldn't need any property beyond his sword, or companionship beyond the company. Shinra was his home. He rarely ate food these days either, receiving much of his nutrition intravenously.

There was something else he had wanted with Soldier, too, the reason it had been his dream, but he couldn't remember what it was anymore.

It probably wasn't important.

There was something that felt wrong this time. It was night, Aeris could tell. She'd deliberately waited to avoid another encounter with Cloud's family in the middle of the day. One thing at a time.

She was pretty sure Cloud was here -- at least, something was. But there were no thoughts coming from the presence; no steady stream of resentment bleeding into her perception. It was little more than a niggling feeling in the back of her head, the way the "whiteboard" was.

She felt something on her hand and looked down -- there was a young woman sitting next to Cloud in bed, her fingers laced around his. She appeared to have fallen asleep sitting next to him. He had been propped up against the wall. Some sort of animal appeared to be asleep across his lap. It was quiet here, and both the woman and the animal were curled up quite closely to her. The blanket even seemed to be handmade. It would have been nice if it didn’t feel incredibly intrusive, which she supposed it was.

It's me again, said Aeris. No response. That wasn't right.

...Hello? Cloud? If you're willing, I'd like to talk. And apologise

Something seemed to brush up against her as she said his name, but it was so faint she wasn't sure she imagined it. She closed her eyes and tried to focus on it.

She felt her way towards the something -- there was something here. She was sure of it. As she listened, she could feel bits of thought occasionally congealing before disappearing again. Something was definitely wrong here.

Well, she didn't know what this was. But someone else would.

She extracted her hand from the young woman's and gently shook her. "Psst. Wake up," she whispered.

The young woman did not wake up. The animal did, and she managed to choke down a gasp as she saw that it was apparently on fire. Before she could shake the woman harder, the animal opened its mouth.

"You're awake!" it said. "I was worried, you haven't been this long in a while..."

"...You talked."

The animal (wolf? lion? it certainly seemed too big to be a dog) stared at her, cocking its head to the side, and then bared its teeth.

"You're not Cloud," it said in a growl.

"I -- no, I'm not. I came to apologise," said Aeris. "What's wrong with Cloud? He's not... he's not here."

"And whose fault is that?" It had walked itself forward and was now snarling in her face.

"Not mine. He was like this when I got here."

"Well, you're most likely making it worse."

"Just -- listen," Aeris hissed. "I came here to try and fix things. And I can't do that if I don't know what's going on because no one will tell me anything."

"...Cloud is having an episode," said the... something, glancing at a digital clock by the bed -- a digital clock that used a twelve hour system, maybe? "This one has lasted ten hours and forty-nine minutes. I had hoped he had finally thrown it off, but it was just you."

"An episode of what?" There shouldn’t be any reason what she’d been doing would have given him any brain damage (well, apart from the incident with the coma), but anything further and she’d have to call off the project anyway. Talking was one thing. Scrambling someone’s brains was another.

"Cloud has sustained severe and continuous psychic damage over the last decade. It is difficult for him to maintain his sense of self. It is an ongoing battle, and on occasion he loses ground."

"What do you mean, ‘psychic damage’? From what?”

“That is Cloud’s business. Not yours.”

“And... how long is he usually like this?"

"It's difficult to say. It could be a few hours, or a few days. His longest was a little over two weeks."

Two weeks with their contact point out of commission... that could end the project, and doing things achronologically was nigh unworkable.

She had another thought, then, of a headline -- “DISGRACED SCIENTIST FIRED. RUINS THE LIFE OF BRAIN-DAMAGED BYSTANDER. ACTUALLY WORSE THAN MENGELE.” She pushed it away.

"What's your name?" asked Aeris. The dog-thing stared at her suspiciously.

"Nanaki. I am visiting until Cloud gets better and you go away."

"And you're..." Calling something that could talk a "pet" would probably be a bit rude, even if she was reasonably certain that was the case in one way or another. Who else let their friends sleep in their beds? Not that she couldn’t see why. She wondered if he would allow her to feel his fur.

"I am Nanaki," said Nanaki shortly. "I'll be waking Yuffie now."

"Wait!"

Nanaki stared at her. "For what?"

"...Maybe I could help. I can sort of feel him... moving?" That wasn't the right word. "He's here. I could talk to him."

"You do that. I am going to wake Yuffie now anyway."

"Don't --" she shook her head and let it drop. Priorities -- dealing with whatever fugue state this was.

She closed her eyes and tried to focus on the strange presence that wasn't the whiteboard. If she hadn't been deliberately looking for it, she wouldn't have noticed it as anything more than occasional intrusive thoughts in the back of her mind. Whatever it was, it wasn't truly thinking.

She tried writing to it in the way she wrote to the whiteboard. Hello, she said.

Hello came the reply, but it was merely an echo of her own words; stimulus, response.

It's me Aeris, she thought. It's me Aeris, echoed the parts that weren't really a person. They began to twist closer to her.

I came here to talk to you. If you can hear me please give me a sign. Again, she heard the not-a-person echo her thoughts -- no, not echo. They'd been thinking them at the same time.

Cloud? Are you there? No, not thinking them -- she was thinking with those bits, as though they were just another part of her mind.

They began to congeal around her, and more and more they became another part of her thoughts. Stop it, they said, or she said. She tried to say to them, anyway, but there didn't seem to be any of them left.

He was gone. How could he be gone? He had just been there -- and now here he was, twisted up so deeply into her she couldn't tell what was her own mind and what was him, mimicking.

Not good. Not good at all, he had to be here; she searched her own thoughts frantically. She was here to talk to Cloud, and Zack had her count to thirty before she came here, and Lazard had taken a blood sample from her as part of a routine checkup --

She felt a thrill of repulsion run through her, and a very small part of her said no.

She thought more about the appointment. It had been just in case constantly drugging her was having adverse effects on her, she remembered. She had looked away from the needle going in, but she had watched it on the way out.

The thing that said no pulled away further, and it seemed to recognise itself then. Parts of her turned out to be the pieces she'd collected, and more and more of them identified themselves -- never again -- broke his arm -- I don't belong here. It became easier and easier to find the parts that had convinced themselves they weren't parts of anything else. She pulled away from some, and pushed others in towards each other, each thought connecting to another idea that distinctly wasn't her, and for some reason despised having its blood drawn.

It was still twisted up against her, but it was distinctly no longer her.

Who, it asked. She hadn't told him to do that.

Are you feeling alright? She replied.

I'm here, he said, as if to remind himself. I'm here. I'm Cloud.

Someone was touching her, and she opened her eyes to see Yuffie twisting her arm behind her back. She sighed. "I'm not going anywhere," said Aeris.

"Fat chance," said the woman. "I shoulda kept a better eye on you last time."

Aeris sat up and pulled her arms away from her back -- Cloud was a lot stronger than her, it seemed. She still needed to ask about that business with the motorcycle.

"See? I’m helping. I can hear him," said Aeris. "There's something wrong with his head. What do I do?"

"You leave," said Nanaki.

"Fine. I'll figure it out myself. Should be easy enough," said Aeris, and closed her eyes again.

I'm here, she could hear him saying. He was still built around her and through her, using her to define what was and wasn't himself.

...I thought I'd apologise, said Aeris. I likely sounded bossy and rude. So I thought I could start by telling you a little about myself in exchange.

Cloud said nothing. She wasn't sure if he could really hear her.

I'm from Reading, and I study physics in London. That's a really large city in the United Kingdom. We have a queen, and a prime minister. Neither one of them really does much of anything for the country, but at least people like the queen. It felt strange, narrating to herself and and knowing someone was there to listen.

My parents, they studied physics as well. Most people in England, they live with their parents until they become adults. Mine are gone though. I didn't know many people besides them, so it was very difficult. She could feel him listening now, a gentle probing against what she was saying. When I turned out to be good at physics too, it was decided that I should get into the field as well. It's all very fascinating. And now, I'm picking up the project they left behind.

I'm not from Reading, she heard him say, as though trying to convince himself.

No, I'd imagine you aren't, said Aeris. Where are you from?

Nibelheim. I'm from Edge. I'm from Nibelheim. I'm from 6 7 dark in the storage room don't make me go back don't want to go back I'm from 3 I'm from Nibelheim Sector 7 Edge Nibelheim Midgar please don't make be go back 7th Heaven off Reedgrass and 25th.

She needed to get him... out, for lack of a better word. This was too much information too fast. She wondered if he was getting about the same experience from her.

Then he asked, Yuffie?

Aeris started slightly. ...No, I'm not Yuffie. I'm Aeris. I came to apologise.

She didn't get a response that was articulated with any words, but there was a good amount of confusion and unease rather than the expected hostility.

I'm not from Reading, he said again. I'm not from Reading...

Something clicked into place then, and she felt a stab of pain shoot through her that had her gasping out loud. She reached up to grasp at her head, but her arm stopped halfway and put itself back down.

"She's here again," she felt herself involuntarily say.

"Yeah, I know," said the woman. "What should I do? Should I get Tifa, or... you're awake."

"I am," said Cloud, as Aeris felt her jaw part and her mouth moving to form words she had no input in making. And then she blurted out, "I said I was here to help. I just want to talk. I --"

Her speech broke off into a sharp gagging noise as the throat they were both using tried to say two things at once. Nanaki looked between her and the other woman helplessly.

"I'm going to talk to Cloud for a bit," she said slowly. "Then I will leave."

"...Two hours," said Yuffie. "Or I'll..." she glanced at Nanaki, who didn't seem to know how to finish the threat either.

"Yes. Two hours." She closed her eyes again and leaned back against the wall again.

What happened? she asked Cloud. He must have still been a bit disoriented, because what he said next didn't make much sense.

I've been trying to push in since you started doing this, but it was too hard. You let me in. I thought you did this. I don't know why you let me think and move this time, and not the others.

...What do you mean? The others? The earlier runs, probably.

That's the only way I know to describe it. I wanted to move but you wouldn't let me. And now you are letting me. That's what it feels like.

Well -- look, I was serious when I said I was sorry, pressed Aeris. So... if I'm gonna ask you a bunch of questions, then you should ask something too. Does that sound fair?

...You helped me, said Cloud.

Sorry?

You... in my head, you talked to me. It... it helps to hear people talk.

Oh. Well... least I can do.

He was quiet for a while. He seemed conflicted about something.

...How are you doing this? he asked eventually.

Well, began Aeris, I do a lot of very complicated calculations based around that signal I mentioned earlier -- the one we found coming from this world, that has something to do with you. Then I get into a tank with a lid that's filled with liquid gallium, and some other metals. Brainwaves are just electrical signals, after all. We pick up those signals, and we can tweak one set of signals into another to match mine.

Is that what you're doing now? he asked.

Yes. Technically I'm asleep right now. I'm writing down what we're saying on -- well, that's another conversation. I'm keeping track of it, though.

...So, you didn't... do anything to me?

What do you mean? she asked nervously. Whatever the implication was, it seemed unpleasant.

To do this. You didn't do anything to me. I'm not... I'm not different from how I was before you started this?

I doubt it, said Aeris. I don't quite understand why the data we obtained led us to you, but since it did, I don't think it's very possible that we might have based that data on you before even meeting you.

...So, we're humans. And so are you, apparently.

Well… I think so, said Aeris. In a manner of speaking.

"In a manner of speaking"?

Yes. You mostly look like what humans in my world look like, but I think there might be a few differences. I'm not certain. Your family seems to be what I'm used to... mostly, anyway, the wolflion was new, but I couldn't help but notice your eyes --

Aeris felt her fists clench involuntarily.

What about 'em?

A sore subject. Perhaps there were different subspecies of humans, and this one was a minority. Well... I noticed earlier they glow. We have animals that naturally produce light in my world, but humans usually aren't one of them. Does it impair your vision any?

Shouldn't you know that by now? he deadpanned.

I... yes, I suppose I should. Are there many humans with glowing eyes here?

Not anymore, said Cloud. And it's not a normal thing. They're from mako treatments.

...What's mako?

There was a pause. What do you mean, what's mako? It's -- never mind. They used to use it to power stuff --

-- until it was outlawed. Yes, I remember that from yesterday. But... it's a medication, as well as a fuel source?

Not a medication. Performance enhancer. I've had five years worth of shots and tissue infusions of it.

Performance... that's how you lifted that motorcycle. Not everyone can do that?

No. Just me.

And anyone else that's had those... injections. Are they legal? How many others are there?

They were legal -- they were issued by Shinra. And there's nobody left anymore. They're all dead.

Was it a health compli --

I thought I was asking the questions here, snapped Cloud.

I'm trying to get some common ground here. A lot of what you've been saying doesn't make much sense to me. Things like "materia" and "mako" and --

Well... maybe you can tell me the kinds of things you do know, he said, and for some reason this reply didn't seem as testy as the others.

I could tell you about the people on the team with me.

...How many of you are there?

There’s six of us. I suppose technically there’s more, since we’re funded by CERN, but there’s six of us specifically on this project.

...What’s CERN?

It’s the organisation I’m part of. We study physics.

Physics? He said it as though he didn’t quite believe her.

Yes. You know, different kinds of matter, spacetime, dark energy. Things like that.

So if you’re a physicist, how come you’re messing around with me?

Like I said before, that’s what I want to find out. This was an accident, sort of, finding you. We know how this works, but not so much why. Or maybe it’s the other way around…

Just physics, though?

Well, I mostly study physics. So does Fair, albeit a different application of them. And Hewley mostly does maths, which is sort of a purer form of physics -- which we’ll need when we start planning things like navigation. Lazard is a medical doctor, just in case something goes wrong, because we won’t be able to leave for medical attention.

...And why’s that?

Well, this place is a clean room, isn’t it? Say one of us showed up on your doorstep tomorrow --

Please don’t.

...Hypothetically. If I came straight there, there’s a good chance both of us would die.

Probably. If I didn’t kill you, someone else would.

That’s… well, that’s not really what I meant. Like… let’s say -- you have colds in your world, right? Something you get sick with for a day or two?

Yeah, we have colds and the flu and stuff.

Well, let’s say that we didn’t. If I went to your house and was around you, I’d pick up whatever you were carrying and bring it back home with me. Even if it didn’t make you very sick, it could kill us because we have no natural immunity to it and no way to treat it. The same goes for you. So we’re locked in here with no contact from anyone else for a few weeks at a time, for your safety and ours. There’s an even cleaner clean room in the middle of the facility too.

Sounds like you’re talking about a lab.

There are parts of it that are labs, yes. Tseng has one for biology things. I don’t really understand much of what he’ll be doing, but then that’s why he’s doing it and not me. But viruses are viruses. Even if neither one of us are sick, we could still transmit something to one another.

...What do you mean? There was a hint of suspicion in his “voice” again, but this time it seemed tinged with interest.

Well, the way I understand it, viruses make more of themselves by changing your DNA to pump out more of them. Even after you’ve recovered, they’re still there in your system for good -- sorry, I’m not -- you’re familiar with the concept of DNA, right? Do you call it something else?

We know what DNA is, he said shortly. And I know how viruses work.

Ah… good. Then you know how --

Yes.

I haven’t even said anything.

I know what viruses are.

...Out of curiosity, what do you know about them?

There was another pause as he seemed to be considering something.

Most of what you already said. They latch onto a host, rewrite the DNA of the host cell. Really contagious. They’re sort of… the odd phylum out, because they’re alive, but they’re not actually alive the way bacteria are, and that’s a hard thing to wrap your head around. They exist to make more of themselves because that’s what they are. Anything in that weird in-between space that acts the way that does, we call that a virus.

That seems about right, said Aeris, even if the last bit hadn’t quite been clear. For someone with a hatred of modern medicine he sure seemed to know a lot about it. Do they usually teach that kind of thing in schools here?

I guess so. We went over it a little before I dropped out. I didn’t learn it in school though.

...When did you drop out? He did seem the type, now that he mentioned it.

I kinda stopped going to classes when I was eleven. But I left officially when I was thirteen. Spent three months on the road on the way to Midgar. Probably missed a lot of stuff I should know, but Tifa usually helps me out with the bookwork.

...Why did you leave? Aeris herself had technically finished grade school when she was thirteen, but leaving voluntarily was completely unthinkable. Was it a money issue? How long does school usually last?

Sort of. I thought it would be nice to help out Ma with the whole food thing. So I went and enlisted.

...Enlisted? That didn’t sound good. Perhaps it wasn’t as bad as it sounded.

Yeah. You know, military, police, military police… they mostly deployed me in Midgar, though I got sent to Wutai a lot during my first year. Mostly cleaning up pockets of resistance hiding out in the jungle. Work for disposable grunts...

You… they dep -- how old were you?

Fourteen. What’s your problem? He likely could feel her disgust and sadness slowly settling in, and it was probably giving him the wrong idea.

Fourteen.

Yeah. I mean, I did leave a little late. Everyone else in my squad was twelve, except for a couple guys in their thirties that just never got promoted. I got enough shit from them about dragging my feet, I don’t need it from you.

Sorry. I just… where I come from, that -- letting children into the military... it’s considered a war crime, she said weakly. There was a brief pause. If they’d been speaking aloud, she would have been sure he’d snorted in disbelief.

What’s a “war crime? asked Cloud.

Definitely not good. And absolutely as bad as it sounded. Before she could reply properly, someone tapped her on the shoulder, and she jumped and reflexively swatted at whatever was in front of her, but for some reason her hand came up short of actually touching anything. Cloud was determinedly holding still.

Watch it, he warned. Yuffie, who was sitting in front of her, had flinched away from her arm.

“Sorry,” said Aeris. “Has it been two hours already?”

“No,” grumbled Yuffie, edging away from her just in case. “But I’m getting everyone else up. You’ve got questions to answer.”

“I -- I also have some questions,” said Aeris, her voice sounding slightly panicked. “How is it that none of you have heard of war crimes?”

Yuffie stared at her. “I mean… it’s a war, right? The whole thing is made of crimes. It seems a little redundant to make a word for that kind of thing. You can’t exactly march up to soldiers or world leaders and arrest them for fighting a war the way wars get fought. I mean, maybe they do where you’re from, but...”

Aeris just gawked. Cloud took the opportunity to speak up then.

“She’s been asking about physics a lot,” he said. “Can you get Cid? I can’t make heads or tails of any of this, and I’d like to sleep soon. The WRO’s gonna be here in the morning, I think.”

“Who --” began Aeris. Then she shook her head. We need to come up with a system.

What “system”? replied Cloud rather irritably. You’re the one that’s letting me do this suddenly. Even though you didn’t have much of a problem forcing me to do whatever before.

I didn’t know! I didn’t… never mind. Just -- I don’t know how I’m “letting” you. Your head was a bit funny when I came here. Maybe it has something to do with that.

I’ve got a system for you. You keep quiet and let me talk for once.

...Alright. That’s fine.

“Just… get everyone,” she felt herself say. “I wanna get this settled.”

Nanaki stared at her hard, then exchanged a look with Yuffie, who turned to her and said, “Password?”

What does she -- ?

“The hell are you talking about?” said Cloud, voicing her own confusion.

“The real Cloud knows the password,” replied Yuffie without missing a beat.

“Fuck off, no I don’t.”

Yuffie nodded to Nanaki. “Yeah, it’s him.” Nanaki sniffed and padded out of the room to fetch more onlookers to complicate things.

...Now what? asked Aeris.

Now, said Cloud, we get a few things straight.

Control, or at least the illusion of it. Gods, he’d missed this. It was something he experienced in brief spurts during a repair, or in the middle of a fight -- periods where Cloud knew exactly what he was doing, how he was going to do it, and why. There was a clear problem and a path to a solution and Cloud would force a straight line between the two because it was the easiest way to do things.

“She says her name is Aeris Gainsborough,” he said, “and that she’s human. She doesn’t seem to know anything about Jenova, or the WRO. She’s part of a group called Sern, or something like that. I wasn’t supposed to be part of this. We’re trying to figure out why I am.”

“How’d she get ahold of you?” asked Cid.

Cloud shook his head. “We don’t know that either. She mentioned something about a pattern --” he paused as Aeris filled him in on more information, trying to keep himself focused on some point in the room so no one would comment on his eyes glazing over, “-- but the person that discovered it died years ago. So we’ll have to answer a lot of these questions ourselves.”

“If she’s a human, how is she doing this?” asked TIfa. She’d positioned herself in front of the window and kept glancing at the door as well. Cloud shrugged.

You explain it, he told her.

And she did, and he felt his mouth move involuntarily as she launched off into another explanation. Something about broadcasting, and other universes, and distinct electrical signals, and waypoints.

“...and he’s the only one there is, and we don’t really know why. There were others at first, but they all flashed out in seconds. I don’t know why that is either.”

An uncomfortable silence filled the room.

“...Well, the WRO’s going to be here tomorrow morning anyway,” said Reeve. “We’ll know for sure by then.”

“If you’re humans, I guess y’all live on the Planet, right? One of ‘em, anyway,” said Cid, looking a bit disappointed.

...What does he mean by that? Is there only one planet here? What happened to the others? probed Aeris. From the pictures we got of your sky we know there are probably other planets out there, so --

The Planet is the one we’re on, he said. Why would you think there’s only one? How many Planets do you live on?

Just the one, replied Aeris. But you just… you call your world “the Planet”. It doesn’t have a name?

No. What other Planet would we be talking about? It doesn’t need a name; if it wanted one, it would ask for one.

...You just call it “the Planet”, then?

Yeah. Why, don’t you?

No. We call ours Earth.

...So, you’re getting on me for us knowing what planet we’re obviously talking about, but you call your planet “dirt” just to be sure.

“He’s zoned out again. Someone pinch him,” he suddenly heard Jessie say from in front of him. He blinked hard and brushed her hand away rather firmly.

“I’m fine.” He leaned back against the wall, yawning. “She says it’s called Earth.”

“Sounds fake,” said Cid. “Let’s say I buy that. Best case scenario, who’d you want to be in contact with? ‘Cause the space program was dissolved over a decade ago, and starting up a new one’s been outlawed as treason.”

“What? Why?” said Aeris, using his mouth again.

Stop that, he snapped.

I’m trying.

“Hate to break it to you, sweetheart, but you ain’t the first alien we’ve brushed up against,” drawled Cid. There was a glint in his eye that Cloud hadn’t seen there since the night before.

“It was decided it was… safer,” supplied Reeve in a clipped tone. “Given that we have no way of knowing what else was out there. We would likely not survive a second confrontation. Of course, this may count as an exception given this isn’t really an airspace violation.”

…”What else”?

Long story, said Cloud, rubbing his forehead. ...Though I guess it’s one I’ll probably have to tell you anyway.

“There’s a lot of countries involved,” he continued aloud. “So there are a lot of people that are interested in the project continuing. They’re here for information, she says.”

...Who are all these people? asked Aeris. You never really said. You mentioned family, but you never said how.

“...She wants to know who you are,” relayed Cloud. “Personally, I think. And how we met.” He got another flash of confusion from Aeris and wasn’t sure why. He was answering her question, he thought.

There was another pause as a glance went around the room. Cid was the first to speak up.

“Cid Highwind,” he said. “Used to be into aeronautics. I’m the one that deciphered your vandalism. Met Cloud when I joined Avalanche.”

“Reeve Tuesti,” said Reeve. “Senior member of the World Regenesis Organisation. I was… initially sent to gather intelligence on Cloud. I met him properly when I joined Avalanche.”

Intelligence? I thought you said you were a mechanic.

I am a mechanic. I used to not be a mechanic. Shut up and listen.

“I’m Tifa Lockhart. Cloud and I grew up in the same town. We…”

“You don’t have to tell her anything,” said Cloud. “In fact, you probably shouldn’t tell her anything about that in the first place.”

So… it’s complicated? Is that why you were sleeping with that other girl when I got --

Shut up.

“Fine, then. I had to leave Nibelheim when it burned, and I met up with Cloud in Midgar five years later. I convinced him to join Avalanche, and he lives above my bar now.”

What’s Avalanche?

A group we used to be part of. We blew up reactors, fought Shinra, saved a bunch of people…

Er --

I said it was a long story. Later.

“I am Nanaki,” said Nanaki. “I met Cloud during his incarceration in the Shinra Tower. I joined Avalanche as a matter of prudence, given we were both fleeing from the military in the same direction, but I stayed as a matter of personal attachment.”

“Lady Yuffie Kisaragi of the Golden Kingdom of Wutai,” said Yuffie. “I tried to mug Cloud ‘cause he looked like a dumbass. I joined Avalanche to mug him some more because he definitely was a dumbass and let me. Now we’re friends. I still take his stuff sometimes. It’s a game we play.”

"It's really not," said Cloud quickly.

"Then stop leaving your wallet around in the back of your dresser drawer where anyone can find it and I'll start taking you seriously," retorted Yuffie, pointedly dangling it in front of him. He snatched it out of her hands. She'd probably taken it when he was asleep.

"Barret Wallace," said Barret. "Mr. Wallace or 'sir' to you. I hired Cloud as part of Avalanche. Abdicated due to... personal reasons, and 'cause I got sick of him taking all my damn money. Let him handle the payroll for a change."

"I'm Jessie Mahoney, and I was working for Avalanche as our technician when Cloud signed on," she said. "I dated him twice and dumped him because he was a giant prick the whole time and Tifa's the only one that can put up with it. We still hang out though," she added, as Cloud shrank a bit further into the bed.

Ignore that.

Absolutely not.

"...Aeris is from Reading," he said eventually. "She likes space."

You like space, right?

I do like space! Though I wouldn't say that's my specialty. So, that's your family? They're all former co-workers.

Yeah. What's wrong with that?

Nothing. I love all of them, she said enthusiastically. Only...

What?

Do you not have any relatives? Or are families not organised by blood here?

Usually they are. I said already I didn't have any. They died years ago.

Oh. Well, your family's brilliant and I like them already. Tell them I said hello.

"...She says hi," he added lamely. He got a chorus of monotone "hey"s from around the room.

So, the stories behind these people are as good as they sound, aren't they?

I guess. I mean, we all kinda met in unusual --

There was a knock on the door downstairs. They all froze.

"They're here awfully early," commented Tifa. "After all that time they spent dragging their feet..."

"Can't be, can it?" said Cloud, frowning. "It's probably Reno doing something scummy."

The knock returned, louder this time, and someone downstairs who distinctly wasn't Reno announced themselves as a driver for the WRO. Cloud slid himself out of bed.

"Everyone clear out, I gotta get dressed." So much for sleep.

Cloud watched everyone file out, then began to shrug off his pyjamas.

Wait -- I'm still --

Then leave. Not my problem.

That's not the... Her voice trailed off as she forced him to stop and stare at his skin, or more accurately, what was decorating nearly every inch of it.

What happened to you?

Oh. You mean...? Stabbed a bunch, among other things.

...You’ve led an eventful life, then.

I guess so. Avalanche picked me up as a mercenary. It was Tifa’s idea to join. I remember I almost left after the second job when they cut my pay.

I don’t know why you’d leave. There was an unusual pause, where she seemed to be focused on something he couldn’t see. I’d love to have a family like that.

Why, what’s yours like?

My parents died a few years ago. I haven’t dated in a while. I guess this project is the first time I’ve gotten to talk to someone in a long time. Another pause. What are they like? That dog, he seems nice.

Nanaki’s not a dog.

Well, what is he, then?

...We always thought it was rude to ask, so nobody ever did.

Do you suppose he would be mad if I pet him?

...I mean, maybe not. You’d have to ask.

I’m going to next time I come back. He looks like he’d appreciate a good pet.

Don’t make it weird.

I’m not, she said indignantly. And another question -- do you always sleep together like that?

Not… not for a while, I guess, said Cloud. We used to, on the road.

It was kind of nice, she said.

Yeah, he said after a moment. It was.

It took him another couple minutes to get dressed, because Aeris was torn between wanting to examine more of his body and attempting to respect his privacy, which meant Cloud had a difficult time looking at what he was doing at all. She'd taken a particular interest in his boots, or more specifically, what was stuck in the treads of them (scientists, complete nutters, every last one). Then he'd buckled on his harness and loaded his sword into them.

...What's that for?

It's a sword. You use it to kill stuff and defend yourself.

...And... you expect to kill someone during this visit? Will they be alright with you bringing a weapon?

I don't know. It never hurts to be safe, right?

As it turned out, the WRO was very much not on board with him bringing his sword with him, and after a heated argument insisted he at least have it in the back seat rather than in his hand. He reluctantly agreed, if only because he could probably set the driver on fire and retrieve it faster than they could pull a gun on him.

Aeris stared out the window through most of the drive, staring at the city as it blurred past them, which was actually fine by Cloud; he didn't care much for cars. Too cramped. There had been a time when he'd been just as enthusiastic about them as he was with bikes, but that was before he'd spent a fifth of his life locked in very small spaces. Any distractions were more than welcome, even if they came in the form of someone forcing him to stare at every single street sign and pedestrian she came across. She even seemed fascinated by the brief view of the Wastes they caught when they were on a highway overpass.

Aeris suddenly sat up straighter and addressed him.

I figured it out!

...Figured what out?

What was different about your city. I haven't seen a single plant anywhere, the entire time I've been here. Apart from the wood you've made things out of. What happened to them all? In my world, they usually plant grass and things in cities. Do they not do that here?

...Not in Edge, said Cloud. We're too close to where the reactors used to be. Nothing really grows here anymore without a lot of coaxing. They're not gonna waste that energy on things like grass and flowers when it has to go to things like food and lumber. Most wood we have to import in.

That's...

I've seen real flowers before, said Cloud proudly. There was this jungle we were visiting. They were everywhere. You see the pictures, but it never really captures the smell right. One day, I'm gonna go back and visit.

Aeris was silent.

There were flowers just outside Nibelheim too, when I was little, he continued. Tiny blue ones. I don't remember them, though. That's what Tifa says.

...I have a garden at home, said Aeris. I grow different flowers and mints and things. Maybe I'll bring pictures, if we ever --

Silence.

If you ever what?

No response. The strange presence in his head seemed to have vanished, and he felt the beginnings of nausea begin to creep in. Before he could investigate any further, the vehicle ground to a halt.

"We're here," said the driver. Cloud let himself out and immediately fished his sword out of the back seat, the expanse of the facility they'd driven to looming ahead of him. It had been built fairly recently on the outskirts of Edge, and there was still construction equipment littered outside of it. Tifa and Reeve emerged from another car that had pulled up beside him.

"We're right here with you," said Tifa. Cloud nodded, and slipped his sword into his harness anyway.

"Why did you pull me?!"

"Shh!" That was Tseng, clamping a hand over her mouth and hauling her out of the tank with Zack. For some reason, half the computers against the wall were in the process of rebooting.

"We had a power issue," he explained in a low murmur. "And when we went to sort it out, we --"

"Something moved. I saw it. I know I saw it. It followed us up here," whispered Zack, anxiously glancing around. "It was big. Way bigger than a rat."

"What would even be in here with us?" hissed Aeris, removing his hand from her mouth. "This entire compound is sealed off."

"Maybe something came through?" muttered Zack. "Can't have, though, the centre room's still closed off."

They sat in silence for another few minutes. There were no sounds beyond their own breathing, and the dripping of NC fluid onto the floor. A faint hum could still be felt coming from below them, and Zack was still staring fixedly at the maintenance hatch set into the floor by the wall. It sat there, unremarkable as always. The whiteboard flickered back to life.

"...You must have imagined it," said Lazard eventually. "We've all been cooped up here too long. It's getting to us. The next restock period is in a couple days, at least."

"I didn't imagine it. It was... I don't know what it looked like," broke off Zack, frowning. "I saw -- it was something. I was looking at it, but when I looked at it, it was like... like I didn't want to see it, so I couldn't."

"We need to get out of here for our own mental health," said Angeal. "We're well ahead of schedule, at least. Did we save the transcript?"

"Right here," said Cissnei, patting one of the computers. "I dumped it as soon as the lights started flickering."

"You're not authorised to be using those," warned Angeal. Cissnei rolled her eyes.

"Fine, I will delete it."

"Thank you, you're a valuable part of this team," interjected Aeris. "Speaking of which, you read --"

"Yeah, we read it," said Zack. "Part of it, anyway."

Aeris approached the computer. "What do you mean?" she asked, then leaned in and saw for herself.

We know what DNA is and I know how viruses work.

Good. Then you know how

yconfirming@@*@

not said anよything.

I know what viruses are.

Out of curiosity what do you know about them?

Most of what you already said. They latch onto a host, rewrite the DNA of the host cell. They are very contagious. they 門6226s7xuuu8subecause they 偽 infect65535ria are and that’s わ a hard thing to unれderstand they exist πολ8xujれονται. Anything with behaviour between in not 4μεtween, we call that a virus.

That seems about rigわht. do they usuallれのy teach that kind of thing in schools here?

I guess so. We went over it a little before I dropped out. I didn’t learn it in school though.

when did you drop out?

I sort of stopped going to claこs000learn90 when I was elevどe11111ten one. But I left officially when I was thirteen. Spent 3 akkkkkkkkkkkkk traξid missing should know, but Teefa usually helps me out with the booもkkeeping.

"A good chunk of it's like that," said Cissnei as Aeris scrolled through, hoping to god she’d remembered to switch it off for part of the conversation. The official report did not need details of her personal life in it. "Most of it we can parse, but..."

"I thought we fixed this bug," said Aeris. Most of it looked more or less legible, at least. Good.

"We thought it was caused by the partial," said Angeal. "But it seems like there's some sort of interference bleeding through this time. Tseng and I will look into it."

Tseng nodded. "We have something to work with, it seems, but..." he gestured to the bits of the transcript that were legible. The ones about war crimes and the potential for an international incident across two worlds.

"Mm," nodded Aeris. "Do you think we could ask for an official diplomat during the restock period?"

"It wouldn't be out of the question," said Tseng. "It explains a lot of the hostility, too. They're expecting the worst because it's not out of the question for them to expect it.

"So... the situation as it stands is that we are in contact with a likely shellshocked former child soldier from a world with no equivalent of the Geneva Convention. It may have been obvious, but that would explain why his expectations of us are likely not good."

"We really oughta ask for a shrink, if Lazard can't do it for us," said Zack. "Like, I'm just saying, it just turned into a necessity."

“I thought you said he wouldn’t want a professional anything in his face?” quipped Aeris. Zack shrugged. "Look, there's a lot to go over," she added. "I'm getting back in in six hours. I want to know more about the rest of them. Especially that aeronautics man. He said they'd already had first contact with someone, and it's probably a good story and no one wants to talk about it."

She retreated back to her room to sleep off the meds. Lazard must have been at least partially right about drugging her for as long as they were, because she had very strange dreams.

The sky was burning, the ugly red colour of an open wound. It whispered to her things she couldn't understand, and behind all of it she heard music -- the most beautiful, terrible sound she'd ever heard. She covered her ears and looked out at the city, and then at the low roar coming from above them, and gasped. It was big. Too big. Aeris didn't think she'd ever seen anything that big before in person. But the more she looked, the more she felt it was looking at her, and the more she felt an insatiable hunger, and a spark of rage that kept growing and growing --

The world ripped in half. She was dead, she knew. She had to be. But she wasn't afraid -- she was returning to where she needed to be. It was time to finally be let out --

Aeris awoke with a jerk and stared at the ceiling, reorienting herself. She could have sworn, though, that the whispers were still echoing around the room, if only for a moment.

[loxare]

A Talon By Any Other Name

Chapter 9 - Return to Darkness

It was an old, abandoned stretch of sewer. It normally is, but this one was so old it used clay bricks instead of concrete and it had been closed off so long it was dry. Hood ducked under the fourth or fifth collapsed support column, stooping to catch the comm. unit when it fell out of his ear. Again. He didn't really know how to put it in. It was shaped differently than the one he had used as Talon.

The next time it happened though, Red Wing noticed and grabbed it. Pulling Hood's head down so he could see, he plopped the little radio into his ear in a way that was both more comfortable and more secure-feeling. He smiled a thanks, savouring the wide, crescent grin he got in return. He knew Dick though of this kid as a brother. Could he do the same?

No. That probably wouldn't work. Dick was a wonderful brother. All solid and supportive and quick to smile. Hood wasn't very emotional, didn't understand them well. The best he could do for this kid would be to jump in front of a bullet for him. But he was fairly sure brothers needed to be more than that, especially when they were older. At least... he thought he was older. He'd been taken when he was ten or so, it had been maybe four years, and Tim was thirteen. Hm. Most likely.

He was jolted out of his thoughts when Dick, who was walking in front of him, stopped abruptly. “We're here.” It was barely a whisper, but it was a shout compared to the previous silence. There, in the top of the wall, was a small gap. Dick had been right. Hood would have no difficulty fitting in there. Neither would Dick or Red. Bats would be a little cramped, but he should be fine. “Alright. One at a time. On the other side of this is a fairly steep slide thing. It gets narrower near the bottom, so keep your arms above your head and your legs pointed. And no talking once we're down.”

Dick pulled himself up and over the wall. But of course, Dick being Dick, he couldn't risk a comment. “Hey, Hood. Maybe we can find your name in the records room! Or beat it out of an Owl. One of the two.”

Hood nodded. “Sure Dickie.” And the acrobat let go of the edge.

Before he could pull himself up after, Red tapped him on the elbow. “I keep forgetting to ask, and I want to now before I forget again. Why does Dick call you Hood?”

The light, excited feeling he had had from the thought of finally beating the Court diminished a bit. “The Court took my name away. I don't remember what it is. They took Dick's too, but he got it back right before we were sent to kill the Joker. He used to be called Acrobat.” He pulled himself up, ready to drop, when one more bit of info popped into his head. “They told me once that they got the name because that's what they found me in. A ratty old red hoodie.” And he dropped. He didn't notice the way Batman jumped as if electrocuted, didn't see the sudden look of realization and guilt that crossed his face.

He reached the bottom, landing noiselessly. Dick was already there, peeking around the corner, looking for another Talon. A scraping sound, slowly increasing in volume, was Hood's only warning. Red popped out of the tunnel, right into Hood's arms. Good thing too. The kid had clearly not been expecting the drop.

A moment later, Batman landed. Almost immediately, he opened his mouth to speak, but Dick held a finger to his mouth. With an inaudible, frustrated snarl, the Bat kept his silence.

Slowly, they made their way through the maze. Dick mostly led the way, but every once in a while, he and Hood would get into wordless arguments about which turn to take, Hood insisting he knew a shortcut, Dick insisting he was an idiot.

Any time he wasn't arguing with Dick, he had his concentration split between listening for traps and thinking. Mostly about how he was in the Court again, but how everything was different. The most obvious change was the costume. The old Talon uniform had been tossed, but Batman had given him an old Batsuit. It had much more protection than the Talon suit had (being made of more than just fabric), and was therefore heavier. But not heavy enough to impede his movements, which he appreciated. It was an incredibly dark grey, but with a bulky, red bat in the middle. Dick's suit was black, with a blue bird, a prototype suit Batman had made for when Red Wing got older. And of course, the belt full of knives strapped around his chest had been replaced with one full of batarangs around his waist.

It was more than just the suit. He was different inside too. As Talon, all he had had was the next assignment. He'd tried to bury his emotions like the Court wanted, but he couldn't. It had lead to a lot of time spent in the punishment room. But now he had a brother, and a child he could protect, and a butler who made the greatest food he had ever tasted, and Batman. He wasn't sure how to describe their relationship...

Not the point. The point was, he could feel things again, as many as he wanted, without getting punished for it. And he had people around him who he could talk with, laugh with, fight with, get to know. He could be... happy? No, he didn't think he could be happy. Didn't deserve it. Not with all the people he's killed. But maybe he could be content? He would like to be content.

The charges they placed in cold storage and the punishment room were tiny, the exact same shade as the walls, and positioned in the many shadowed corners the rooms had. Hood knew where all the secret compartments in the punishment room were – lots of time spent here – and put a bomb in each one. He had to admit, Red was right. Blowing this place sky high would make him feel a bit better.

Finally, all that was left was the Parliament room. The meeting would be starting in half an hour. Plenty of time for the intruders to sneak in, plant gas canisters under every fourth chair, and hide in the rafters with respirators ready.

Hood watched as the Court slowly filed in from the door at the back of the room, the one reserved for Owls. First the lower Owls. All funds, no social status. Then the middle Owls, those who had status, but minimal cash; great connections, but no way to fund the Court's enterprises. And finally, the high Owls, the rare few who had money, social status, and a long history in Gotham. Most of their families went back centuries. The Grandmaster strode in last, all important and pompous.

When the Grandmaster planted his robed behind on his chair, ready to address the circle of Owls around him, Batman pressed the button on his controller. There was a barely perceptible hiss of gas, and a faint cloud. Before any of the Owls could react, they were unconscious. Hood smiled and followed the others to the floor.

Wait. Something was wrong.

His feet had barely touched the floor when Talons dropped down, from an even higher set of rafters. At least two dozen. Normally, Hood would scoff at the thought of fighting twenty guys, heck, bring on thirty, forty, even if they were all armed to the teeth with swords and daggers. But not Talons. Talons, he would run from. Unfortunately, there was a crowd of them between him and the only door.

He sidled closer to Dick. “When you have a chance, take the other two and run. I'll cover your retreat.”

“What? No. We all get out of this.”

“Not possible Dickie. And I'm not letting them take your name again. You're getting out of here, keeping Red Wing safe for as long as you can. And Batman. Gotham needs him Dick, not me. I'll be fine.” He pulled a few batarangs and held them between his fingers like knives. He didn't have his sword, but this would give his punches a little more spunk. “Go!” And with that last whispered word, he launched himself at the Talons by the door, knocking them away only by virtue of surprise. He was incredibly pleased to see Dick follow his advice, pulling a protesting Batman and Red Wing behind him.

He dashed down the corridor a bit. He would have a better chance if only one or two Talons could reach him at a time. “Bring it.”

And they did. He lasted a lot longer than he thought he would. He fought with all he had, ripping and tearing Talons apart, only to have them stand back up and reengage. It was a full half hour before he started to falter, and another ten minutes before he received his first fatal injury. He fell to the ground, gasping and choking as he healed the long slice going through both lungs. The Talons wasted no time cuffing his hands behind his back, uncomfortably tight. Then, they pulled the cable out of his grapple and started trussing him up.

Sorry Dick. Not coming. But at least I gave you enough time to get away.

A pair of feet appeared in his line of sight, then someone grabbed his hair. His head was pulled up to face Cobb. “I know what you're thinking. You held us off. Good for you! But there's one thing you didn't think of.” Cobb leaned in close, mouth by Hood's ear. “Not all of the Talons were in the Parliament room. We had others in the labyrinth. Don't worry. You'll see your fellow traitor and your co-conspirators soon enough.”

Cobb dropped his head after that. As he was dragged off, it was all he could do to keep the tears from slipping down his face.

“Dick, no, we have to go back for him!”

Dick really wished Tim would stop asking. Didn't he know how hard this was? He had promised, so many times, to keep Hood safe, and so many times, he had failed. Now, he was running, trying to keep another brother safe, keep Batman safe. Hood was right. Gotham needed Batman. He was the only one trying to make a difference, the only one succeeding. And not just that. If anyone had a chance to save Hood after this was over, it was Batman. He had to get them out of here.

So he held back the tears and he ran for an exit. One of the locked ones, the ones that would sound an alarm if they were opened. Not that an alarm would matter now. The Talons already knew they were here. If they could make this, they could get to the surface, they could be home free.

He was picking the lock when he heard footsteps behind him. The lock clicked, and he slowly stood and turned. “Batman. Take Red Wing and run.” He pulled a pair of escrima sticks from his belt. They were weighted, with a smaller surface area than his fists. These would hurt the Talons more. “Don't argue, just go. Just... please... don't forget us.”

He looked back at the man standing behind him. He was going to stay. He could see it in the Bat's posture, in the determined set of his mouth. With a sigh, he pushed the crime fighters through the door, locking it shut and shoving a batarang into the keyhole. No way to open that door now.

When he eventually fell, half a labyrinth away, the Talons decided against using handcuffs. Instead, they used his own belt to strap his arms to his chest, then the cable from the grapple gun Bruce had given him. I'm coming Little Wing.

Batman went back of course. He had a drug, not ready in time for the first, disastrous raid on the Court, that would render a Talon unconscious for up to twenty four hours. Talons normally metabolized sedatives within ten minutes, so this was a great accomplishment. An accomplishment that felt like a failure.

Not the first one today. Red hoodie. Hood had been found in a red hoodie. And Jason, Jason Todd, the  ten year old boy who had stolen his tires four years ago, had worn a red hoodie. Hood had been taken when he was ten, four years ago. He pulled up a picture of the boy. Once he was looking for them, the similarities were unmistakable.

How had he not noticed these before? World's Greatest Detective? Yeah, right.

He had found Hood's name. Right when it was too late to look for him. He had gone back to the Court, but the place was abandoned. Flooded, actually. Ceilings blown out with the very charges he had placed there. So here he was, in front of his computer once again, trying to get a lock on the tracking devices in their suits. No luck so far. Nothing.

The computer flashed a warning. Bank robbery downtown. The timing could not be worse. He went, stopped the robbery, as per usual. Well, not quite. As he left, he heard the medic complain about the large number of broken bones the robbers had sustained.

Well, if the robbers didn't want their bones broken, they shouldn't have robbed a bank while he was looking for Dick and Jason. The boys he had placed under his protection and they were gone. He drove back to the Cave, his speedometer never dipping below 160. He barely parked, sending the car much closer to the edge than he usually did, before jumping out and dashing back to the computer.

Alfred was already there, as was Tim, even though he had been sent to bed more than an hour ago. He was running a search algorithm that checked the traffic cams for facial matches. So far, he had turned up over two hundred matches, and was going through each one, rejecting every one that wasn't the missing boys. So far, that meant all of them.

Suddenly, there was a crackle of static. Both crime fighters froze, looking for the source. With a chuckle, the comm. system in the computer came to life. “Hello. Batman, I presume. And possibly his little brat as well. Well, it's about time we spoke.” The voice was cold, lifeless, amused.

Batman pressed the code sequence that would run a tracing program. “So, you know who I am, but I don't know who you are.” But caller ID said that the comm. belonged to Dick, so he had a fairly good guess. The Court.

Another chuckle. “Of course, where are my manners? I am William Cobb, Richard's great grandfather. Well. Not Richard anymore. He goes by Acrobat again. But enough about him. Truly, it is a pleasure to make your acquaintance. Of course, we have met before. You took my eye out, it was very difficult to regrow.”

“Was it? That's unfortunate. Anything else I broke? Your leg? Your spleen?” Dick was going by Acrobat again? They had taken his name? The failures kept stacking up.

“If you're trying to trace this call, don't bother. We have it running through a Court scrambler. I just wanted to thank you for taking such good care of our property. Say hello boys!”

There was dual groans of pain. Tim sat up in his chair at the sound, and Bruce got a sick feeling that he knew what this call was really about. He motioned for Alfred to take Tim upstairs. There was no reason for him to hear this. Either of them.

The psychopath was still talking though. “They've been amazingly silent ever since you brought them back to us. And we've asked them so many questions. You would not believe how many times they've demanded that we leave the other alone, go after them instead. Of course, standard... questioning techniques have been mostly ineffective, so I'm going to try something new. Now this, you can't see it, this is audio only, this is something I thought up a few years ago. I've tried it on a few targets, but they never lived too long. But with a Talon's natural healing ability, these boys should last much longer, maybe long enough to complete the test.”

Bruce felt his heart thumping. No, this couldn't be happening. The trace came up negative, so he started analyzing background noises. What little there were.

“I originally developed these for assassinations you know. Just place the device and it would plant itself in whatever location I wanted it to. Wait a week, a month, a year, and a press of a button would kill the target instantly. And nothing leading back to the Court.

“I've modified them a bit, just for these two. It works like this. Two devices, I place them on each traitor's leg. The device burrows under the skin, and travels, and doesn't activate until it reaches its destination. One device has a bomb, the other has a trigger. It's a combination of a timed and proximity trigger. So as long as the bomb is near the trigger for more than six hours, it'll go off. Since these tools are so fond of each other, I thought it was a good idea. Now, here's the best part. Talons are so extraordinarily resilient, they tend to push out foreign bodies of matter within five minutes. But not things in the skull.”

No.

“There's no muscles in there to expand and contract and remove the object.”

No.

“So, this little device will travel under their skin,”

No.

“and travel until it hits their brains. Right in the middle.”

No, this couldn't be happening.

“Don't worry, it's very small once it reaches this point. Won't cause any damage. But of course, any type of brain surgery there will more likely damage the brain than fix the problem. Not that it matters. These tools won't make it to a surgeon. I said six hours from start to finish. In five and a half, I will give you their location. In five and fifty-five minutes, you'll find them.”

“Now, I just wanted to mention. We could have reprogrammed them. We really could have. It would have taken quite a bit of effort to do so, but it could have been done. Really, we have put far too much into these tools to just put them to waste like this. But see...? You got involved. You got involved and took our Talons into your life. So this is for you, just as much as it is for them. Goodbye Batman.”

There was a clatter as Cobb dropped the comm. to the ground. There was a pair of whirrs, then two grunts, one after the other. An opening and closing door and nothing.

[megabrocklesner1world-blog]

Items to Recall When Buying Netball Products

What can you have to get house when disaster strikes...

Where can you find your self when disaster moves? Where do you need to attend be secure? Where are your friends and family likely to be?

I don't know why, but it would football kits appear that most disasters happen through the day. Clearly, earthquakes, asteroids, solar flames and volcanos are across the time threats. But, most man-made functions, such as riots, tend to happen throughout organization hours.

In any case, if you like to be at home with your family (and your supplies), the worst event scenario will be at the office or school when disaster strikes. After hitting out to family and buddies, you will be wanting to have house as soon as possible.

I've experienced many disasters myself like the'89 Loma Prieta Earthquake, Rodney Master Riots in'92, WTO Riot'99, Mardi Gras Riot'01 and numerous blizzards and floods. The'89 earthquake was the worst for me, because I was cutoff from my residence for TWO WEEKS!

I commuted day-to-day from end of the Bay to another and once the bridge and many arterials were ruined, I really could maybe not navigate back after perform that day. Fortuitously, during the time, I'd number animals and there clearly was an accessible chair at a friend's house.

A lot of people travel to perform or school an average distance of thirty (30) miles circular journey each day. I presently travel forty-one (41) miles circular journey, crossing many bridges, bodies of water and past the homes of MILLIONS of people. Spend time considering that. When disaster moves, the millions of people that you reveal your prepared metropolitan earth with will not be therefore tidy and civic-minded as throughout more calm times.

If you've actually been stuck in traffic following a significant sporting occasion or even a blizzard all night at a time, consider just what a significant infrastructure failure affecting the power grid or limiting a bridge would be like.

You may not be able to push house that night, perhaps forced to sleep in your car when it is secure, or affect from base for protection and progress towards home. Several times in the past year, people have experienced to sleep in their cars throughout blizzards and periodically they find yourself dying before being rescued.

What might have held them living? What would have permitted them to safely leave their car for a safer protection?

Many folks are familiar with an disaster package for his or her car. It frequently has the reflector triangle, why not a flare, some sort of first aid package and actually gloves if you should be lucky. This isn't suited to any disaster different than a smooth tire or lifeless battery, for use while awaiting the automobile team showing up.

If you want to protection in area for the night time (such as your car), you will need a cover, torch, food, and water at a minimum. If you intend to affect from base, you need a much more gear than that.

The apparatus necessary for operating or walking to your home or bug out spot (BOL) is typically referred to as:

Insect Out Bag (BOB)

Get House Bag (GHB)

Get Out Of Dodge Bag (GOOD)

What this gear is not intended for is some wilderness survival, particular allows, hill person or "stay off the area" type of equipment. I think, most folks are not able to stay off the area and subsist centered about what they could bring, therefore that's maybe not a feasible strategy for everyone but Rambo and Grizzly Adams. If that rubs you inappropriate, I am sorry, but that is my opinion.

For the applications of this information, I'll send to the gear whilst the GHB (Get House Bag).

The probably scenario if disaster moves through the weekday is:

You are likely to try to operate a vehicle house

Ultimately you will get stuck and remain put for a few time period

Eventually, you will affect from base for house

You might have to find protection and sleep one or more times before hitting house

You should stock and keep a GHB in your car and your workplace (yes, one each). That's because you can find stuck at benefit at the least the very first time and your car might be missing as a result of earthquake, fireplace or riots.

Ok, enough already...what must get into the case?

Bag - The case it self must certanly be light, resilient and comfortable. I favor surplus medium measurement G.I. rucksacks. They're cheap and quickly available. I put the neck straps on the rucksack it self, without using the frame. The frames are helpful for major masses, but they're also firm for quick storage of the case till it is needed.

Water - You will have four 8 oz. bottles of water in the case at a minimum. Speed your self, and digest one container in the A.M. and one in the P.M. You can even use U.S. Coast Guard approved Mainstay 4 oz. water packets in place/addition to the bottles of water. It is also recommended to include a water filtration container (such as MSR, Katyden or Steripen), commonly used by hikers. In case you work from your kept water, you should use the water filtration container with any natural water resource you come across on your journey.

[otomouk]

Using DIY & Wall Art To Add a Personal Touch to a Nursery

Decorating a nursery can be equal parts exciting and stressful, but you should also take this opportunity to let your creative side run free. Whilst there are a lot of fantastic products available to adorn your baby’s nursery with, sometimes it’s better to make something from the heart. Buying most of the décor for your baby’s nursery is not a problem, however, if the interior is comprised entirely of store-bought items it can sometimes lack a warm and homely touch. Therefore, it’s always worth trying your hand at a few beautiful yet simple DIY decoration pieces, because you never know, you may just produce something you cherish for many years down the line, and not just when your baby is well…a baby! Homemade items are also sentimental declarations of love towards your little one. Of course, if you are the one who is currently expecting, get a helping hand for the more stressful or physically demanding tasks from those around you, after all, the more the merrier, and the more personal the nursery decor will be. DIY décor clearly shows that it is not necessary to have to splash a lot of cash to produce something beautiful and endearing, so what are you waiting for? Dig in!

Family, Friends and Frames

DIY doesn’t need to only be about parent and child, be sure to involve other people in the baby’s life whom also feel much love for it! Use baby shower and celebration cards from friends and family and turn them into décor pieces – what’s more, you can get them involved in the making of the decorations too! It’s a great way to add vibrancy and charm to the nursery without doing too much of the work yourself! Set up an arts and crafts chain with plenty of stationary, buttons, sequins and other trinkets. Ask your loved ones to make a card or use the one they brought, and give them free range to jazz it up! Once they are done, use cheap frames to finish their mini masterpieces off, and then they are done and ready to hang up as a sentimental touch to the nursery. Speaking of framing, a quirky idea is to frame old baby clothes from previous young ones, which you aren’t going to be using anymore. It’s a great way to recycle something that may have ended up being thrown out. They make quaint little decorations and rather obviously they suit the nursery theme awfully well!

You could also frame pages from books, particularly charming and timeless children’s book, as an ode to the literature you grew up with and your baby might too! You don’t need to only look online, you can find gorgeous antique books in local stores and maybe even ask family and friends if they have books which are no longer being used, as a cheaper alternative. You could even model the theme of your interior on the book/s you choose. Consider the likes of Roald Dahl and Dr Seuss for your little one.

Perfecting Paint

Here is yet another simple DIY: all you really need is a bucket of paint and a bunch of willing hands! Get your family or other close relations to leave their mark – quite literally – on the nursery’s walls, by leaving an imprint of their hand (or foot, if they’re feeling silly!). This is a remarkably easy way to add a homely touch to the walls and make it that much more comfortable and inviting! It’s also great for looking back at over the years, as you reminisce about how fast the children have grown!

This next DIY is perhaps the most elaborate and challenging, but it’s also the most rewarding! The idea is to paint a mural on your baby’s wall, and it could be of pretty much anything that is in keeping with the vibe of the nursery – which is usually soothing and relaxing. You don’t just need to use paintbrushes, experiment with sponges, clothes, toys and other equipment to make a quirky variety of shapes and add real interest to your walls.

Homely Hangings

For something a little more sophisticated and adult, hang aged materials like paper from clips, similar to how you would hang clothe on a washing line. You can hang cards from loved ones, songs, photos of important people and places, or just pretty and relaxing images that complement the vibe of your nursery. This is an affordable and gorgeous way to add some interest to plain nursery walls.

To bag some extra storage, hang a hamper on one of your nursery walls for quick and simple tidying and reorganization. It’s a great way to rescue back some of that prized floor space, by making sure that anything that has a possibility of being on the wall, is indeed on the wall.

Pegboards are similarly great for you to hang up little but important items and then grab and go as you please. They are easy and organized, laying out everything important in front of you so you don’t have to go searching for it, especially if it’s an emergency. Although it’s often associated with tools and industrial equipment, if you dress it and personalize it, it will fit right into your baby’s nursery. This is a particularly great storage alternative for renters who may not want to make too many alterations to the wall, as it reduces the amounts of holes made.

You can even use any doors in the room to your benefit! Hang bags and hampers from door knobs for yet another easy to way to pick and drop pesky little toys and other trinkets as soon as you see them, rather than letting them pile up and become a trip hazard for you or for little ones.

Sneaky Storage

Floating shelves are an absolutely brilliant way to store and display items at the same time. It’s another great way to keep as much clutter off the floor as possible. You can use these shelves to put up homely frames and photos, whilst still putting away creams and clothes so that they are easy to grab as and when needed.

If there is a reasonable amount of space, adding another shelf or rail to a cupboard is a great of fitting some more diapers or wipes in case of emergency. It’s a foolproof way of increasing storage without decreasing space!

If you have hooks on your doors or on the wall where you hang clothes, you could even consider putting a string between the hooks with little pegs. This is a quick way of getting some more space to hang up clothes so that they aren’t just thrown on a chair in the corner!

Cute Creations

Picking your baby’s name can often be a long and difficult decision, however, there’s no better feeling than when you finally stumble across the perfect name! Once you have overcome that process, use this nifty DIY to display their name loud and proud in their nursery! Cut the letters for the name or maybe even the message out of a sturdy material like cardboard, taking care to ensure that the edges are neat and tidy for a professional look. Use PVA glue or another form of glue to stick thread or yarn to your letter, spinning it around the back and front and making sure it is stuck on tightly. After that, you can bedazzle your letters however you wish! If you aren’t too keen on yarn, go for other fabrics like silk or wool, whatever takes your fancy! Maybe even consult your baby…If you have any leftover fabric, you can incorporate it somewhere else in the interior, such as by framing it.

You can even buy some cheap but robust hoops and glue fabrics to them to dress them up with some bright patterns and colours. Then hang these hoops up on pegs or hooks for a unique style of décor. Make sure the fabric is pulled tightly about the hoop, any crinkles or creases will negatively impact the look.

Another artsy idea for a nursery decoration would be DIY silhouettes. These silhouettes can be any shape you wish, maybe the image of something you like or personal to you, like a certain animal or a family member or even your favourite food! All you need to do is draw or cut out a template, then place it atop some card and cut the card around the template, or trace the template around the card – whichever is easier for you. You can even put a backing to your silhouette and frame it for a finished, clean and professional look. Equally, you could use Blu Tack to stick them to the walls, which gives you the freedom to regularly change their positioning if you wish.

These were some beginner and some more complex DIY ideas for when it comes to decorating your baby’s nursery. Do your best to get loved ones involved so that all the important people in the baby’s life can leave their mark on the nursery. There are thousands upon thousands of more DIY décor ideas for your nursery online. All you need is some time, some money, and maybe a little bit of spare change. If you’re really resourceful, you may only need items that are already in your home! Go search in nooks, crannies and attics to find items that no longer serve any particular purpose, and breathe new life to them. Happy decorating!

    from Otomo - Blog https://www.otomo.co.uk/blogs/news/using-diy-wall-art-to-add-a-personal-touch-to-a-nursery