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needforspeed161 · 11 days ago

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Hey Admiral

My friend and I were talking about a scenario like this and I decided to write a little something for it. Since Cyclone looks up to Ice so much this would be hilarious to see play out 😂

CYCLONE DOESNT REALIZE ICE AND MAV ARE MARRIED.

Cyclone had it up to HERE with Maverick, constantly correcting him and becoming quite irritable with his “teaching methods” as he called them.

Why on earth a man as revered as the legendary Iceman would request a man as reckless and untamed as Maverick to teach the top pilots in the world at TOP GUN OF ALL PLACES! For what he is sure would be one of the most dangerous, high enemy contact level mission any of these pilots would ever experience in their lives was beyond him.

“Admiral” Ice spoke, taking a seat across from him, Beau stood at attention as the COMPACFLT seated himself before him.

“Evening sir” he spoke, militant as ever.

“So to what do I owe the pleasure” Ice waved a waitress over, grabbing a glass of his classic vodka on the rocks as Cyclone opted for a brandy.

“About Maverick…”

The warm chuckle that spread throughout the blonde, now graying, Admirals chest stopped the three star in his tracks.

“My apologies sir, I wasn’t intending to be comical”

“No Beau it’s not that” Ice took a gentle sip from his drink, tongue darting out to wet his lips. “It’s just that if I had a dollar for everytime one of these dinners or meetings began with ‘so about Maverick’ I could have retired 10 years ago and have two Mercedes in my driveway”

Beau looked at his hands momentarily, unsure of what to say. Soon Tom continued.

“Anyways, I digress, what did he do this time”

Ices softer stare met his colleagues as he took another drink, before looking down at the menu on the soft white table cloth.

“His training methods for the Dagger squadron are….interesting to say the least, unorthodox is the better term.”

“Oh? Do tell”

“For instance, they were supposed to be practicing formations for the bombing run yesterday and I found them playing on the beach like children”

“Hm” Ice grunted softly, paying attention as the waitress came by again, interrupting them.

“Good evening sir” she spoke with a small smile at Tom. “Your usual sir?” Tom nodded

“Thank you Katherine, Beau? Care to order?”

Cyclone didn’t think to hard as to why Ice knew this woman, and frequented this place often enough to have established a ‘usual’. Ice was the COMPACFLT, he probably enjoyed some nicer expensive dining from time to time.

“No green eyes tonight?” She asked, and Tom shook his head. “No my dear, all buisness tonight”

She frowned slightly and put her hands on her hips. “Well darn, please tell him I said hello, I’ll go put your order in gentlemen.”

“I definitely will, Thank you my dear” Ice waved as she disappeared, rounding the corner.

Cyclone decided not to comment, first of all he and Ice were close but not so close as to ask questions about his love life. Let alone the fact that it was apparently another gentleman he often frequented this place with. Who was he to judge, since the DADT repeal and Ice becoming one of the most powerful men in the military, no one could say shit even if they had a mouthful.

“Apologies for the interruption, as you were saying?”

Beau cleared his throat. “Yes, sir, he completely ignored my hard deck perameters and is running these pilots through ridiculous exercises, we have less than a week to have them mission ready…”

Their conversation went on for a couple more hours as they ate, and as they both stood to leave Ices hand found Cyclones shoulder.

“I know Captain Mitchell can be a hard pill to swallow sometimes, but he’s a brilliant pilot, best the Navy has to offer, I’ve flown with him for many years, and he’s done many things I may not have understood, but he was always reliable, always had his head in the game and always made sure everyone, including me, made it back home safe. Be patient with him Admiral, give him a shot”

Cyclone huffed out in annoyance slightly, but let his shoulders fall. “Yes sir, I’ll do my best”

“Thanks Beau” Tom spoke, dropping the formalities. “And thank you for the company, but I’m a little past curfew and need to get home” Ice winked, Bidding him goodbye and getting in his car to head home.

—————————————————————————

The next day seemed even worse, Admiral Simpson was being driven up a wall, two seconds away from punching the brunette square in the face. If not for Ices encouragement he probably would have by now.

That evening he returned to the ready room to see, SHOCKER! EVERYONE WAS GONE!

Anger rose in his throat, he knew exactly where he was going.

Throwing his truck in park in perhaps the most aggressive way he could, the man, still clad in his khakis and medals, stormed in through the swinging saloon doors of the Hard deck, seeing all of his pilots and one infuriating Pete Mitchell drinking beers and playing rounds of pool.

Laughing, smiling and joking together, if he weren’t so angry he would have liked to admit that it even looked….fun.

“CAPTAIN MITCHELL!” He shouted. As if on cue the music came to a winding stop and all heads turned to look at him.

Pete not looking worried in the slightest.

“FRONT AND CENTER! NOW!”

Handing off his beer to Bradley with a nod, sharing a quiet word with him that couldn’t be made out clearly. He walked towards the angry, taller brunette. As the rest of the gang tentatively went back to playing pool, quietly, as if walking on eggshells.

“Admiral Simpson, sir” Maverick spoke. Smug grin on his face long gone and replaced with a tight line drawn between his lips.

“What in the hell is this?! We have a mission less

Than TWO WEEKS out that requires absolute focus! And before you try and brush this off as one of your bullshit ‘team building exercises’ just know I’m going to look forward to reporting this directly to admiral Kazansky! And-“

“Reporting what exactly to Admiral Kazansky?” A voice spoke, interrupting his statement, as the taller, angrier man turned to see the familiar face returning with two drinks in his hand.

Immediately straightening his posture and clearing his throat. He took in a very casually dressed Tom Kazansky.

“A-Admiral sir!”

“At ease Admiral, so what did Maverick do this time”

His eyes followed the movements of the slightly taller man, coming up to stand beside Pete, handing him a beer.

As Cyclone began to go into what he saw.

“Is that so Mitchell? Little old you did all that?” Ice threw his arm around Mavericks shoulder. Seeing the smug smile return to his lips.

“I can neither confirm or deny that statement” Maverick chuckled.

“My apologies on behalf of my husband Admiral, it seems he wasn’t aware of todays training layout”

Cyclones jaw may as well have been on the floor, throat tightening at a loss of words.

“H-husband sir?”

“Ah!” Ice almost looked surprised.

“How rude of me Admiral, I’d like to formally introduce you to my husband, Pete Mitchell-Kazansky, though for work purposes everyone still knows him by Mitchell.”

Just at this time Bradley walked up behind them.

“Hey dad, pops” he squeezed both of their shoulders and looked at Admiral Simpson. “Admiral”

“Lieutenant” he scoffed in return. Still attempting to process all of this new information.

“Wait so, at the restaurant, the waitress, green eyes is-“

“The one and only” maverick smirked, leaning up to give his husband a kiss on the cheek.

“Now Admiral, if you don’t mind we’d like to get back to our game, you’re welcome to join us if you’d like.” Ice invited, gesturing his head towards the rest of the squad.

Cyclones mouth open and closed again. Unsure of what to do next.

“Cmon Sir, first rounds on me, loosen up a little” Bradley smiled, eyes bright and hopeful. As Cyclone turned to the rest of the team, smiling at him as well.

“I guess one drink couldn’t hurt….but I’m kicking your ass at a game of pool first Bradshaw”

As the two men walked back towards the pool tables, newly acquired beers in hand and jokes being flung back and fourth. Maverick pulled ice against his side by his waist. Smiling up at him with big green eyes, clinking his beer against the taller man’s glass.

“This is going to be fun” he smiled.

“Couldn’t agree more darling”

#icemav #pete maverick mitchell #tom iceman kazansky #top gun 1986 #top gun maverick #pete mitchell #tom kazansky #hangster #nick goose bradshaw #ron slider kerner #beau cyclone simpson #jake hangman seresin #bradley rooster bradshaw

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meanbossart · 4 months ago

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Do you personally think that Astarion gets touch repulsed sometimes? If so, what would Drow's thoughts be about it and how would he handle it? You've said that he's careful about his loved ones' boundaries and avoids bombing them with affection, however I think some insights of his thoughts about Astarion's ambivalence with physical contact would be interesting!

Sorry to give a reading assignment right off the bat, but I think the reply to this ask and this one serves as necessary context for this. But I actually don't think Astarion is all that prone to feelings of repulsion as much as he's prone to either A) an eerie and total disconnect and indifference to his partner's and his own well-being or B) A sense of anxiety born from the association that has formed between sex and his partner's encroaching death. - or arguably worse, a gut-churning resignation to it.

Sometimes he communicates the discomfort and things stop. Sometimes he doesn't - be it because he wants to explore it, try to push past it, or just because 🤷eh, been a while, so might as well. Either way, he's a grown man who can make that choice for himself and deal with the emotional consequences later.

DU drow does not see it that way at all, at least not for a while. He concerns himself far too much with Astarion's ability to consent to and want for intimacy, and could never wrap his mind around him wanting to do something despite not being entirely in the mood for it. Point is, DU drow would have no issue abstaining from sex or physical affection (well - he would and has, but he'd deal with them privately and they're mostly, uh, physical), his biggest flaw in this scenario is to continually miss the forest for the trees and make his partner out to be more helpless than he is in reality.

#ask #du drow and astarion

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moody-alcoholic · 23 days ago

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These Violent Delights

Chapter 14 - Save Me

Summary: Poly 141 x fem!reader, a/b/o alternate universe 7.2k words. Let's save Piper! Go team!

CW: a/b/o alternative universe, a/b/o dynamics, typical a/b/o universe tropes, torture, descriptions of torture, descriptions of wounds, death, use of weapons, HORRIBLE military inaccuracies, dissociation, blood, medical inaccuracies, panic attacks, talks of death, Mr Jonathan “I can justify my actions” Price, bombs, angst, all hurt no comfort, fuckin’ Graves and his shadows are everywhere like a cancer.

AN: Name a chapter the omega hasn't cried in... I'll wait.

Previous - masterlist - next AO3

Enjoy!

Dr. Piper opens her eyes properly for what feels like the first time in hours. She’s alone in the room, though the camera is still set up. She looks down at her arm. He’s still bleeding her; she’s being killed by her own invention, a repurposed dialysis machine built to keep just enough blood out of her body so she can’t heal her wounds. Fitting really.

She feels weak and her head is swimming. He can’t keep her hooked up to this much longer or it will kill her. Maybe that’s his plan? She wishes he would just shoot her, at least that way it would be quick. She wouldn’t be so lucky though. He needs to keep her alive.

She looks around the room. The lights are harsh, bright white in her eyes. She remembers him recording the video, or at least him yanking her hair around. She can remember his demands too. It’s supposed to be a swap. It’s the worst case scenario.

She made sure to put in the letter to John not to come and save her. She knew this was a death sentence, all to keep the omega safe. You are safe and you have your pack to protect you. It doesn’t matter what happens to her. She just wants to get this over with quickly.

Hale gave them 48 hours. That means she’s going to have to suffer through this for at least another 2 days. The pain’s not too bad, when she doesn’t move. Her heart aches for you, though she knows you’re in the best possible place and with the best possible people. She hopes you’re on your way to the UK or wherever John thinks it's safe.

She’s not religious but she’s praying to any God who’ll listen to keep you safe.

The door to the room opens and Hale walks in. He’s changed clothes. There are no windows, no clock. She’s been unconscious too many times to try and keep track of what time it is or how long she’s been here. He puts a bottle of water down on the table, and it makes Piper's mouth go suddenly dry. She can’t remember the last time she had a drink.

“No word yet,” Hale sighs.

Piper looks up at him. Good. What is she supposed to say, ‘oh well, let's make another video.’ She doesn’t even want to look at him.

“I guess you didn't really wait long before setting her up with an alpha,” he scoffs. She can hear the irritation in his voice. Yeah, she did it on purpose. Maybe John had figured it out, maybe not. She needed you to be in a pack to keep you safe. You needed to be claimed by an alpha, and she needed to make sure it was as difficult as possible for the Professor to get to you.

“Why bother with the contraceptive suppressants?”

“A purebred is still pure, it doesn't matter who the alpha is,” he replies.

She scoffs, shaking her head.

“She would never have been able to carry to term. Her whole reproductive system is a mess,” she says, remembering what she saw on the ultrasound.

“I’m sure we would have been able to figure something out. You’re a good doctor,” he says, smiling. It makes her feel sick. She shakes her head, looking away. She’s a doctor first but she would never subject you to the surgeries he’s thinking about.

“Do you remember the research we did on the betas? The one with the claiming?” Hale asks, picking up the water bottle and opening it. She nods at him. She learned how to do autopsies that week. A smile grows on his face. It makes her angry—he shouldn’t be smiling.

“We never quite figured it out did we?” he says, talking about their work like they’re old pals. He takes a sip out of the water then walks over to her. He brings the bottle up to her lips. She keeps her lips closed. She won’t take anything from him.

“I don’t want you becoming dehydrated. You’re a doctor. Don’t be stupid,” he says. She looks up in his eyes, his dark, tired eyes. The eyes she used to see determination in. She used to think he held the world in his hands, that the scientific marvels they would discover would change the world. Then you came along and his vision changed, and he became obsessed with creating the perfect omega.

She wont accept anything from him again.

He sighs, gripping her hair, yanking her head back. Her body tenses as he moves his hand to her jaw keeping her head in place as he forces the bottle past her lips. She doesn’t have time to clench her teeth as he forces the bottle in her mouth squeezing.

She immediately chokes on it, water filling her mouth and nose, slipping down into her windpipe. He squeezes until the bottle is empty, most of the water being forced back out her mouth. She’s coughing and spluttering as she gasps for air.

“I guess you learned to be stubborn from the omega,” he says, throwing the empty bottle on the floor. “I knew I should have never let you get close to her.” He sounds angry, his mood changing. His fuse is getting shorter. He’s getting impatient.

“Why don’t you get it over with now then. You’re going to kill me anyway, there’s no swap,” she says between gasps, her throat raw.

“I know that,” he says scoffing. “I expect the 141 to come here and try to save you. Then the omega will be left all alone in a base surrounded by people I pay.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure about that. I’m not worth anything to them,” she says, her voice shaky.

“Sure you are. You’re their key to a cure,” he laughs. She looks at him as he walks back over to the door.

“Besides, they’re soldiers. They like to think they're the good guys. Rescuing you or letting you die? Which do you think they’re picking?” he asks, laughing again as he opens the door.

“And when they turn up and kill you? Then what?” she spits back at him.

“Four of them against all the security I have here? I’m not worried. You should be though, because when I get the omega back, I’m still not sure if I want to keep you around. We never did test what happens when a bond is forcefully broken.” His voice is low, the smile still on his face as he leaves the room, slamming the door behind him.

She hangs her head. She was blindfolded when she was bought into the building. She has no idea what kind of system he has or how many people are here. She sighs letting fear rise in her. She knows he’s right. She knows they’re going to come. They are good people. They’re going to risk their lives to save hers.

She doesn’t deserve it. She doesn’t deserve the rescue. She hopes John will listen to her message and just flee. It’s the only way you’ll be safe. Hale can’t chase you forever, especially when you’re being protected by your pack.

John’s hands are gripping the cup as he hears your wails. Simon and Kate are sat at the table, Kate looking through the intel she’s managed to find on Hale’s Seattle home. His head is spinning. You’re in pain, mental and physical. He can’t do anything about it other than try and get Dr. Montgomery back.

It’s risky. You’re not safe when they’re not around you. Based on what Kate has been able to dig up, the place is definitely going to be protected. He needs everyone for the mission to be successful, which means he’ll be leaving you alone with Kate.

He sighs, taking another sip of his tea. It’s cold, but he doesn’t care. Simon looks over at him, then back down at his own mug. He’s struggling. They all are, and maybe it’s normal. You being upset must affect the pack's mood in some way. He wishes Dr. Montgomery was here to help, or at least to explain.

Kyle comes out of John's room.

“Did she sleep through the night?” John asks. Kyle shakes his head. John sighs watching him going into the bathroom.

He’s not sure how long Johnny has been with you. The sobbing seems to have died down, though. Kyle comes out of the bathroom going over to the kettle. There’s a heavy feeling in the air. They can’t talk about their plans here. Simon and Johnny searched the place but they couldn’t find anything. John still doesn’t trust it.

Kyle is boiling the kettle when Johnny comes into the common room with you in his arms. John’s heart breaks when he sees your pale, bandaged figure pressed up against his chest. He walks over to the sofa placing you down. You’re murmuring something under your breath as he pulls the blanket over your shoulders.

“S’aright lass, let’s get you that cuppa.”

Your murmuring stops as he says that, pushing a strand of hair behind your ear.

You look over at the table. You can see Kate and Simon's backs. Then there’s John sat at the head of the table. He looks over at you, and sadness bubbles up inside of you. You look away. The house on the hill, the pies, the lake, the summer’s evening. Johnny comes back, placing the cup of tea on the coffee table in front of your face.

You don’t want it but you can smell it. Johnny always makes it extra sweet. Johnny kneels down next to your head stroking your hair. He lets out a sigh.

“You need to try and drink something,” he says.

You blink at him. You're not thirsty. You don’t want anything. You look away from him at the mug of tea. Johnny sighs, getting up and going to the kitchen table.

It’s just so much pain. You keep your eyes on the mug watching the steam swirl in the air.

“When are we leaving?” Simon asks. They’re keeping their voices low. You don’t know if you want to know what's going on. You close your eyes and you’re back in your happy place.

The house on the hill, the pies, the lake, the summer’s evening.

You didn’t mean to fall asleep but you wake to John squeezing your shoulder. The mug of tea is still there. Your arm is numb. You force yourself to sit up. The moment you move John’s hands are on you helping you. You look round the room. It’s just John but you can see they’re getting ready to leave. Bags and weapons strewn everywhere.

“You’re leaving,” you say.

John sits next to you.

“We’re going to get her back. We’re going to get her back and kill Hale,” he says, squeezing your thigh. You nod, trying to keep the relentless tears back. There’s a pain deep in your core, a throbbing in your body, something you’ve never felt before. It’s because your pack is going away. They’re going away to do something dangerous.

“Kate will stay with you.” His hand comes to your chin pulling your face to look at him. “You have to promise me if anything happens you will listen to her. You’ll follow her instructions. She’ll take care of you.”

You nod, fear gripping you for a second. His expression softens.

“Please save her,” you whisper, choking down the sob rising in your throat. He reaches over, pressing his lips onto yours. It's been a while since he kissed you. Even during your heat it doesn’t happen that much. You let yourself relax focusing only on the kiss, his soft lips, his warm tongue. You melt into it, letting him caress your tongue with his.

His hand runs up your back, firm and warm as it stops on your shoulder blades. You don’t want the kiss to end, you want to stay in this perfect moment forever with your alpha. He pulls away when your tears reach your lips. He looks at you sympathetically, thumb coming to brush the tears away.

“Do you trust me?” he asks. You nod. “Good, then trust that we will bring her back. I promise.” He presses a kiss on your forehead and gets up. You lay back down pulling the blanket over you as silent tears run down your face. You watch as he leaves the building and Johnny and Kyle come in to collect the bags.

John walks over to Kate talking to Simon. They stop talking as he approaches.

“Are you sure you want to do this John, she did say not to come after her,” Kate says.

“We’re going after Hale too,” he reminds her. Simon crosses his arms.

“You know what to do. As soon as Shepherd gives the order you take her and run,” John says.

“The truck’s hidden 2 klicks south. Here are the keys,” Simon says, handing them to Kate.

“You’re sure no one knows about it?” she asks.

“No. If it’s gone, head to the rendezvous point anyway. We’ll find you,” John says. She puts the keys in her pocket, reaching into her back pocket bringing out a phone.

“Keep it off until you need it, you know the drill,” she says, handing John the burner phone. He smiles at her.

“Stay with her, and do not let anyone near her,” Price says. “Try and keep her calm, if she panics—”

“She’ll distress, I know I’ve been reading Montgomery's USB. Go John, she’ll be fine,” Kate says, almost pushing him towards the car where Johnny and Kyle are waiting.

“Here,” John reaches to his side, handing her a pistol. He trusts her. He knows she’ll keep you safe, but it doesn’t make it any easier. They know as soon as Graves gets the word they’re at Hale’s house, Shadow Company will be after them.

John nods at Kate and heads over to the car. He looks over at the barracks one more time. He knows the likelihood of them going back there is low. He gets in the back, Gaz already taking the driver's seat.

“Laswell will take good care of her,” Soap nudges him. He looks up in the rearview mirror. His eyes meet Gaz’s and he nods. The car drives off.

He really hopes that he’s making the right choice.

It’s raining. Of course it is. The rain seemed to start the moment they made it onto the motorway. The sky turned darker as they drove the hour-long trip. The ride had been mostly silent. Even Soap’s chipper attitude seemed mulled out.

When they made it to the location, the sky was almost black. Price checked his watch. It was almost 5, and it would be getting darker soon. That’s good, they can use that to their advantage. They park down a dirt access road hidden from the main road.

The road runs about a kilometer, and then it’s dense forest all the way up to his house. The place is guarded by Shadow Company. There should be 10 or so people, not including Hale and Montgomery. They all get out of the car, picking up their weapons, putting on the rest of their gear.

Ghost swings his sniper over his shoulder, checking his watch. He looks over at Price who nods.

“Ghost, head east. There’s an abandoned outhouse at the end of the drive that should give you a good vantage point to set up.” Ghost nods heading off into the woods as John heads to the north, following the dirt path until it merges with the trees.

When they make it to the house, it’s bigger than Price thought it was going to be. Modern and brand new. How he can afford all this, Price will never understand. He must have a mansion in every state at this point. Dr. Montgomery was right, no matter where they went, Hale would chase them, and you would never be safe.

They all kneel down in the bushes to the side of the high wall. The whole place is surrounded by walls, the only opening being the front gate.

“Remember, the moment we make our move we’re on a timer. We find Dr. Montgomery and Hale then we get out.” Price says over the radio. “How are we looking Ghost?”

“Got two Shadows on the main gate. You’re clear to jump that wall.”

Price nods at Gaz who gets in place to boost Soap over the wall. Price hears him land on the other side before taking his turn. He turns at the top of the wall reaching down to help Gaz over.

They all land in bushes keeping their backs to the wall.

“Need help dealing with the Shadows?” Price asks.

“Negative. Side entrance looks clear,” Ghost says.

“Copy,” Price says and they start to move over to the side door. At least the rain has slowed. Soap tests the handle and it’s open. Price nods and they go in. There are some lights on. They move in silence as they make their way through the rooms. The place is almost barren of any furniture, and what is placed around the massive rooms is covered with plastic sheets.

“Think he’s renovating?” Soap whispers behind Price who shushes him as they reach a closed door. There is light coming through it. Gaz toes the door open an inch and Price can hear voices, at least 2 people, but he can’t see anything through the crack. He looks round at them both before nodding and putting his hand on the door.

He pushes on the door as Soap and Gaz rush into the room. Two shots, two people down. They keep walking down the corridor. This place is like a maze and they haven’t even been upstairs yet. Price takes the lead as they continue through the rooms.

It’s corridor after corridor, temporary walls and scaffolding all over the place. The smell of fresh paint is strong in the air. They make it through to a larger room. The whole place looks like it’s being fitted like a lab. It reminds Price of his old chemistry classroom back in school. He’s building a new lab.

That's why they’ve been helping Shepherd track down ex-colleagues.

Price continues to lead through the rest of the ground floor, and they take out 3 more Shadows. Plus the 2 when they entered and the 2 on the gate Ghost took care of, there shouldn’t be many left. No sign of the Professor though. The corridors lead back around to the lab. They haven’t been upstairs yet but there’s a large metal door.

Price goes over to open it and it’s a stairwell leading down. If Dr. Montgomery and Hale were going to be anywhere, it would be in there.

Price goes down first. As he rounds the corner he sees a Shadow, firing off a shot taking him down before he has a chance to turn and see them. He continues down the narrow corridor. There are doors on each side. The first one is empty. The second, one more Shadow. There are fewer than Price thought there would be. It’s almost too quiet.

“Soap, go back and shut the door,” Price says. They don’t need anyone sneaking up on them. Price peeks around the bend in the corridor. There is one room and then the corridor ends. Price turns back, pushing on the next door.

When he looks in he sees Dr. Montgomery. She is still tied to the chair. She lifts her head up.

“I told you not to come,” she says, but there’s a smile on her face. Gaz puts his weapon down going over to her.

“Where is Hale?” Price asks.

“Upstairs maybe. I didn’t exactly get a guided tour,” she says, gritting her teeth while Kyle cuts her ties.

“The machine. You have to press the green arrow on the screen,” she says, nodding over to it.

Price keeps looking down the hall.

“Ghost, we’ve found her. How's things looking out there?” Price says.

“Quiet, no movement,” he responds.

Soap comes round the corner, almost making Price jump. He turns back to look at Gaz and Dr. Montgomery. She looks beat up, pale, and she's attached to the machine next to her.

“What’s that?” Price asks coming into the room and letting Soap take point on the door.

“Drains my blood, making sure I don’t have enough in my system to heal myself.” She says leaning back on the chair.

“The Professor sure is resourceful,” Gaz says, rolling his eyes.

“It was my invention actually,” she says. Soap looks back at her frowning. “Did you forget that I'm not one of the good guys for a second?”

“We need to get out of here,” Price says. She nods moving to sit forward in the chair.

“Soap, go check ahead. We still haven’t located Hale yet,” Price says going over to the door.

Soap nods heading down the corridor.

“Just pull it,” she says. Price turns to see Gaz holding her arm. She has bandages in her free hand. He lets out a breath and pulls something out of her arm. She grits her teeth letting out a groan as she places the bandages on her other arm.

“You sure you’re okay?” Kyle asks. She moans nodding as she moves to stand up.

“Yeah,” she says as Gaz helps her to her feet. She’s unsteady, even swaying against him as he gets his arm under her armpit, so she can lean on him. An alarm rings out.

“Soap!?” Price calls through the radio.

“It’s not me!” he calls back.

“What’s going on?” Ghost asks. Price looks back at Gaz helping Dr. Montgomery. Fresh blood is dripping onto the floor.

“Stand-by,” Price says as Soap comes back around the corner, Price leads with Soap watching their 6. They need to get out of here. Whatever set off the alarm it can’t be good.

“Price you’ve got Shadows driving to the house,” Ghost says. Shit. There is no way Graves is here already. They must have been nearby. Not like the Professor to host his security inside his mansion.

“Soap go ahead see if you can stop the alarm!” Price calls. Soap nods, pushing his way past them. Price waits at the top of the steps letting Soap go out first.

“How many Ghost?” He asks.

“10, maybe more, civilians too,” Ghost replies.

Great, now they have to worry about civilians. He looks back down at Gaz supporting Dr. Montgomery. Gaz nods at him and they push through the door into the lobby.

Kate is nervous, and you’ve never seen her nervous before. She’s tapping her foot as she types on her laptop. It’s making you nervous. You get up off the sofa, wrapping the blanket around you and go to the table to sit with her.

She looks up from her laptop as you do. You smile at her and she smiles back.

“How long do you think they will be?” you ask.

“I don’t know. They will call when they’re done.”

“Do you think they can kill the Professor?”

“Yes. They’ve had to do harder things,” she says looking at you.

“Like what?” you ask, curious.

“Maybe you should ask John about that kind of stuff,” she says.

“What about you? Are you a soldier?” You realize you don’t know that much about Kate.

“CIA,” she says, shaking her head. You’ve heard of them before.

You sit there watching her type on the laptop and then your vision is pulled outside. It’s dark outside and you watch as the floodlights are coming on across the field you can see out the window. All of a sudden it feels like something has changed. A bell rings out and it makes you jump.

Kate turns around in her chair looking out on the field as you see soldiers start running around. She looks back slamming the laptop closed. All of a sudden she’s out of her seat. Now you’re definitely nervous.

“Come,” she says, her voice level as she goes into John’s office. You nod, wrapping the blanket around yourself. She grabs a backpack and puts the laptop in, throwing it over her shoulder. She leaves the room without closing the door.

“What’s going on?” you ask as she walks fast down the corridor, almost dragging you along as you head to the fire exit at the end.

“We need to get out of here. Quick, put some shoes on. And do you have a coat?” she asks as you go into your room. You nod following her instructions, pulling some trainers on and a jacket. Almost as soon as you’ve zipped it up she’s gripping your arm again pulling you out the room.

“Wait,” you say, stopping her. You look around your room. You have a feeling you’re not going to be coming back here. You go over to your nest picking up Dr. Piper's scarf. It still smells of her. You wrap it round your neck, tucking it into your jacket.

You go up to Kate. You're ready now. She nods at you, leading you out the fire door. You’re hugging the building as you follow her, trying to match her movements. Your heart is thumping in your chest. You don’t know why you’re being sneaky. You just follow her, keeping quiet.

Before you know it, you’re at the exit you and John take to get to the forest. Kate pulls you up against the base’s wall. You’re hidden in the shadows. You listen to the trees swaying as the wind picks up. You can feel the electricity in the air, the rain moving in.

“Stay close,” she whispers, inching forward to the corner of the wall. You’re holding your breath as she looks round the corner. You watch as her hand slides down her side pulling a pistol into her hands. You swallow the lump away as you watch her pull the barrel back. The pistol clicks and she brings it up to her chest.

You keep quiet as you follow Kate as close as you can, your hand resting on her back. She’s peeking around the corner and before you have time to calm down, she turns, running through the exit gate.

You follow her, holding your breath. As soon as you're through the gate you’re in full sprint forcing your body to move and keep up with Kate. You run past the path you would normally walk down with John and she keeps going.

You run with her until she turns to the right down what looks like a walking path. She slows to a walk and you let yourself suck in breaths of air, the cold making you shiver as the drizzle of rain falls on you.

Kate doesn’t say anything, putting the pistol back at her hip as you continue to follow the path. You wonder what John is doing, what your pack is doing. You hope they’re okay. You don’t get long to worry about them as Kate takes a sharp turn off the path into the thick foliage of the forest.

You wish you could enjoy the sounds of the woods, the smell of pine. You can smell damp, the ground after rain. It makes you miss John. You miss your alpha.

“Where are we going?” you ask after a few more minutes of walking.

“There’s a truck parked waiting for us. We need to get to it and meet up with John.”

“Okay,” you say. You can hear the nerves in your own voice. You keep following her. You're not sure how long you’re walking for, trying to keep up with Kate as you stumble through the forest. Eventually you come across a truck. It’s one of the big ones with 3 seats in the front and benches in the back, covered in a tarp.

You’ve seen them around the base. They always looked so out of place. You follow her into the front seat. It’s cold and the rain is starting to fall down hard now. You bring Dr. Piper’s scarf up to your nose. It smells of her, and you smile, breathing it in as Kate drives off down the dirt road.

“Ghost we need a way out,” Price asks over the radio leading Gaz out while Dr. Montgomery leans heavily on him.

“Main entrance is a no go. Go back the way you came, through the side door,” Ghost says. Price shakes his head. They need to move fast. He’s frustrated. He can’t think with this stupid alarm almost deafening him.

“Soap, any luck finding the kill switch?” Gaz calls as loud as he can over the radio.

“Working on it!” he calls back, barely audible even though Price can tell he’s shouting. They make it up to the ground floor and the ringing just seems worse, the large empty rooms echoing, the sound bouncing off the walls.

It doesn’t matter. They’ll be out soon. The building is like a maze, and Price has to really focus to remember the way out. He looks over at Dr. Montgomery. She looks worse. She’s going to need medical attention when they have time.

Suddenly the ringing stops. There’s collective sighs of relief. Price’s ears are still ringing though.

“This way,” Price says, leading them to a door with light coming through. It leads down a corridor. Now they’re heading to the west side of the building, which is good since that’s the way they came from. Price has to keep checking behind him to make sure Gaz is keeping up.

He peeks into a room and sees Soap leaned over a table with a computer on it. There are monitors all over the wall and equipment everywhere. By his feet is a body with a knife sticking out of his neck. The whole room is covered in equipment. This must have been the main command room.

“C’mon Soap lets go!” Price calls over to him.

“Wait Cap, you need to see this,” he says pointing at one of the monitors on the wall. Price sighs against his better judgment and walks in to see the screen Soap is looking at.

It’s the Professor, his hands spread over a desk. He’s somewhere in the house, in an office watching from afar. Now Price needs to go find him. Shadow company are at the door. He needs to get Dr. Montgomery out first as he sees her walk into the room.

“Hold on, let me,” she says, moving away from Gaz and over to the computer. Soap moves out of the way and she types something then presses a button on the console. The cameras move and everyone sees the door to Hale’s office lock. He can see him fighting with it as shutters on the windows slam down.

She chuckles. She’s not done though as she continues to click through the computer until she finds something.

‘Lockdown initiated,’ a robotic voice comes through.

“ Yes,” she says under her breath as a warning comes up on the screen. She clicks ‘accept’ and a big red button with a plastic cover on the console pops open.

“I’m staying. There’s a kill switch here, and it’ll blow the place.” She steps back from the computer so they can see. Price isn’t quite sure what he’s looking at. Gaz and Soap step in to take a better look.

“You can’t put it on a timer?” Gaz asks as he looks at the computer monitor. She shakes her head.

“That would defeat the purpose. It’s a suicide switch, a last resort. If anyone ever suspected the Professor, he would rather take everything down with him. He imagined himself going out in a blaze of glory, fighting till the bitter end. Covering up his transgressions as his world burnt around him. His last fuck you to the authorities.” She seems almost happy about it. Her energy seems to have picked up as she clicks through security cameras.

“The investors are here,” she says as they watch the outside CCTV. They’re making their way to the front door. They don’t have long. They need to leave now.

“It’s not your job to fix this!” Price says taking a step towards her. She backs up, almost bumping into Soap.

“I helped put the omega in the position she’s in now. It is my job to fix this,” she says, frowning almost like she’s annoyed.

“It doesn’t matter, come on!” John snaps, grabbing her arm. It’s his job to fix this, not hers. She digs her heels into the floor holding her ground.

“We could destroy it all, John. Professor Hale will be dead, and the chemical destroyed. The investors are here because he wanted to make this place his new lab. Everything is here, everything but the omega.” She looks him in the eyes as he thinks about it.

He lets her arm go. Hale buried, the chemical destroyed. There would be no one left. They could end it right now. He can see the determination in her eyes.

She knew this was a suicide mission. Now it still can be.

“What, no! We’re getting you out of here,” Gaz says pushing in front of Price. She can see Price has already made up his mind. She smiles puling her arm away so Gaz can't grab her.

“You would die too,” he says as a matter of fact. She nods as a beeping starts on the console and she swears under her breath, turning to the computer.

"Hale's trying to override the lockdown, he could trap you all in here. You need to go John." She says her voice filled with urgency, she quickly looks over at him before turning her attention to the cameras. Price can see the professor by his computer, the shadows are running up the steps to the front door.

“Is there anything you can do Soap, put this on a timer or something?” Gaz asks.

“With a homemade system like this it could take me hours. It’s impressive, built into the foundation of the structure itself,” he shrugs.

"I can keep Hale locked in his office. I can even cut off Shadow Company so you can get out." She explains turning back to look at Price.

“Price, hostiles heading into the building. What’s your ETA?” Ghost says over the radio. Price can see they've breached the door. They need to leave now.

“Your hands will be clean. You can take the omega and go on that holiday. You didn’t kill anyone, this will cover your tracks,” she pleads standing up and turning to look at him. The beeping stops.

“We’re leaving now,” Price says over the radio.

“Cap, you’re not seriously considering this?” Gaz asks. Price can see the pleading in his eyes and hear it in his voice. Will you ever forgive him?

“What about the omega?” Price asks.

She pauses and smiles.

“She’s your omega, you’re her pack. She doesn’t need me anymore.” She fights to keep the tears back. She’ll cry for you when they’re gone. Price's hand rests on her shoulder.

“You’re a good person,” he says. She smiles at him looking down as he passes her a radio. “We’ll let you know when we’re clear.”

She nods, taking it out of his hand.

“Let’s go,” Price says, turning away and heading for the door. Soap lays his hand on her shoulder and squeezes.

“I’ll make sure she never forgets you,” he says, coming into her view and smiling as he drops his hand. She smiles back at him. Gaz lingers for a few seconds watching her face as Soap jogs past him. He nods, his lips pressed together before he leaves the room too.

Price leads them down the maze of rooms and hallways towards the exit of the house. Price tries not to think about you as he reconciles with the fact he's letting both of the people you consider anything close to parents die.

The Professor was going to die anyway. Dr. Montgomery is a martyr, but it’s the right thing to do. Destroy it all, and then no one else can be harmed. No more chemical, no more Professor, no more unnecessary deaths. The investors will watch the building fall to pieces; they won’t want to invest in rubble.

He can almost feel Gaz’s eyes burning into him as he justifies it in his head. They make it out the side door and back over the wall.

When they make it over they follow the wall round to the front of the property. The blacked out SUV’s are parked at the end of the drive inside the gate. Price can see the investors waiting around as the Shadows have made it into the building. They’re going to be dead too.

They follow the dark graveled road till they make it to the outhouse Ghost is set up in. He comes out when he sees them. They all turn to look down at the house a few hundred meters away.

“Where is she?” Ghost asks.

Price brings his hand up to activate his radio.

“We’re clear,” he says.

“John, promise me you’ll keep her safe.” Her voice comes through his ear piece.

“I promise,” he replies. He feels guilt rise in him now, and he can feel everyone's eyes digging into him as Ghost figures out what’s going on.

“Simon. It’s okay you never forgave me. I never forgave myself.” Soap looks over at Ghost, watching as a breath leaves his throat. Price can smell the sadness in the air.

“Price, what's going on?” Ghost asks.

Price doesn’t say anything, the line goes silent. There’s heavy tension in the air, a distant rumbling and then explosions. The ground seems to shift as the explosions get louder. The building starts to crumble. The investors scream, running back towards the cars with whatever Shadows are still outside.

“No, Price!” Ghost calls his voice catches in his throat.

“Piper what the hell?” Ghost shouts over the radio.

“You’re a good man Si—” The transmission is cut off. The explosions are bigger now, he can see sections of the building blown off and then the building collapsing in on itself. Price can feel the eyes on him, the tension in the air. He doesn’t want to turn around. He doesn't want to face what he’s done.

It’s for the greater good , he reminds himself as he turns to look at them. Ghost’s eyes are wide, Soap’s hand resting on his shoulder from behind. Gaz is looking down at the ground.

“She’ll never forgive you,” Ghost says, his voice low as he composes himself, shrugging Soap’s hand off. Price nods. He knows what he’s done. Ghost shakes his head and turns to walk away. Everyone follows in silence.

It’s for the greater good, he reminds himself, taking one last look at the ruined building as fires start.

You’re waiting in the back of the truck with Kate. It’s cold even with the blanket you found. You know you’re never going to be going back there but even Kate has been vague with you. You were driving for what felt like hours before you ended up off a large road to a secluded spot in the forest.

Now you just had to wait. Eventually a phone rings. You have almost dozed off when it jerks you awake. Kate answers it but doesn’t say much, just Yes, of course, see you soon. You’re playing with Dr. Piper’s scarf in your hand. You want to give it back to her when you see her.

“They’re on their way,” she says, smiling at you.

“Is Dr. Piper with them?” you ask.

“I don’t know, I assume so.”

You smile at her, that's good. Of course they rescued her. You never doubted them. You’re giddy, your body warming up as you think about Dr. Piper coming back. You even shrug the blanket off after a while.

You hear them before you see them, the headlights of the car shining through the trees. You’re excited, smiling as the car pulls up, stopping. You hop out of the back of the truck following Kate as she walks over. They turn the car off and the lights go dark as people start to get out.

John gets out first, then Simon, then Johnny. Your heart beats quicker, and your smile fades.

You can’t smell her.

She’s not with them. You swallow hard backing up next to Kate. You can smell sadness, guilt, anger. John walks over to you and stops in front of you. He hesitates. That makes the tears come again. There’s a chill in the air. Hidden under the canopy of trees it sounds like the rain is falling harder.

“We got to Professor Hale’s house. We found her,” he pauses. It’s almost like he doesn’t want to say it.

“And she was dead?” you ask, swallowing the sob building up in your throat. She was dead before they got there. There was nothing they could have done. That's what he’s about to tell you.

It’s worse, so much worse. He shakes his head.

“While we were leaving she came across a room. A room she said could destroy Hale’s building, burying him inside,” he says. You nod frantically at him.

“The kill switch, she used to call it—” the words die in your throat as you realize what he’s getting at. The suicide room, she used to call it the suicide room.

“No,” you sob. He takes a step closer to you, but you step back.

“You stopped her right? You didn’t leave her to die?” Your eyes fill with tears. You take another step back looking around at everyone. Johnny and Kyle look sad, their eyes wide as the horror of what happened sinks in.

“I’m so sorry,” John says, stepping forward. You shake your head, your hand coming to your mouth.

“You could have saved her! You could have said no!” you snap at him, way louder than you expected. It even seems to shock him as you rub tears out your eyes.

“I’m—”

“No! You promised, you promised you would save her!” you shout at him. He starts to move towards you, but you hold your hands out, your anger strong in the air. He stops.

You look at him. You can’t tell if he looks sad or not. You can’t tell how he feels. You can smell his alpha and it makes you feel sick. Your hand goes to the back of your neck where you can feel his mark.

He let her die. He could have saved her and he let her die. You can’t look at him anymore. You turn to the woods letting your hand fall from your neck.

You look out into the blackness of the forest. You can hear the wind and the rain, the air is cold.

She’s dead. Dr. Piper is dead and it’s all John’s fault. You let the next sob die in your throat and sprint off into the dark.

Dividers by Plum98 & gild-ui Beta reader and editor - rememberwren Sorry...

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nekropsii · 5 months ago

Text

Atomic Ask Bomb 4!!

This is a bunch of lighthearted haterism! Well... "Lighthearted" as in it's just a bunch of quippy bitching, not "lighthearted" in its subject matter. Same shit as always!

Content Warning: Long, Discussions of Abuse, Transmisogyny, Ableism, Pedophilia, Mentions of Incest, Bestiality.

True. At least I don't have to start doing unironic Freudian analysis just to feel like I've said something new and interesting about my specialty cast.

It's weird, because there really is a lot that isn't said about the Main Cast - a lot of which is really interesting - but... People would rather die than put serious, grounded thoughts into these characters, it feels. Especially if the topic is even vaguely uncomfortable. So, you get some nonsense on how there should have been menstruation in Homestuck, or that Eridan was never intended to die, instead of putting any serious analytical thought on Dave's abuse, or Jake's relationship with gender.

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In some places, they're even worse. Not because anything has changed, but because some issues have been made more visible by the change of landscape on Tumblr.

Like, people have way more points of entry to be Transmisogynistic, for example. The Homestuck fandom has always been Transmisogynistic, of course - March Eridan... Certainly exists - but now we've got more people talking about Roxy, about Dave, about Jake, about Calliope, about June... And while the level of Transmisogyny hasn't really changed, per se, it's hard to deny that it isn't more commonplace, in a way, purely because the amount of discussions surrounding Transfemininity has increased.

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CroTuna fans need to pick a fucking struggle that isn't that lame ass hill they've chosen to die on. Can you do something else, instead? Can you think liking Bluey is praxis or something? Literally anything is better, because literally anything else is funnier.

I'm not really super into AraSol or anything, but how can you be down to clown with CroTuna and not fuck with AraSol. Do you just want to crank your meat to abuse? What? Lmao.

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No one's normal about Personality Disorders. Cluster B Disorders especially get the shit end of the stick. It's unsurprising that the Homestuck fandom isn't normal about Personality Disorders when literally no one else is, for some reason.

It's just crazy watching people try to have you take them seriously and not look at them like they're fucking insane when they talk about their analysis that Cronus has NPD because he's terrible and abuses people. Like, what are you saying? Do you hear the words coming out of your mouth?

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Dave generally keeps all of his most intimate relationships pretty private, it's why it's kinda hard to keep up with his love life in canon. He grew up under the lens of countless cameras for the pleasure of prying adult eyes. Voyeurism is a huge part of his story, as it is a strong aspect of the abuse he faced growing up. Particularly, said Voyeurism was a key part of the sexual abuse he was subject to.

The fandom's handling of DaveKat feels like Voyeurism because so much of the fandom is dedicated to showing them in intimate scenarios that just feel... Wrong to see. Like, you just know for a fact if this was happening in the comic, we wouldn't be seeing it. Some even have whole blogs dedicated to those kinds of private moments they'd have behind closed doors. The fandom eats it up and calls for seconds, thirds, fourths, fifths - with a nigh fetishistic fervor. Sometimes, it's really hard to not feel like they're in Bro's sleazy live chats, asking to see more of the cute young one.

Even PostCanon frames the rabid consumption of DaveKat content as Voyeuristic. It's not a difficult or out of pocket read, I don't think.

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I think the secrecy of it all is fitting, personally. The hints we did get of the dynamic certainly don't sound very pleasant, though, much to the fandom's chagrin. On screen Kurloz & Mituna interaction would likely just be more Mituna Abuse Simulator.

And, no, I don't think she would be able to do that.

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The issue is that Cannibalism is largely something used not as an expression of Control Issues, but as an expression of Consumption.

Consumption is a really interesting theme to me in fiction. It can mean a lot of things and be shown in a lot of different ways - possessive love, caves, abuse, codependency, capitalism, so on and so forth - but... It's just... Honestly completely nonexistent in Dirk and Jake's relationship. That's why it feels forced to me. I just genuinely don't know where people are picking up the theme of Consumption, especially hard enough to start talking about Cannibalism as a natural extension of it.

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That's the Heterosexual Incest Exception, babey. It's the Spiders Georg. It doesn't count. People are always gonna have the Heterosexual Incest Exception, because they physically cannot help themselves but jerk it to little girls getting molested by their dad or something. It's awful, but it is unfortunately true.

That said, if anyone pulls that kind of shit with Sovereignstuck, I am personally banning you.

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See, Vriska fans aren't in denial - they know she blows, that's the appeal. They're just tired of people acting like it's the end of the fucking world, or like she's the worst person in the comic when Cronus exists. Who is, ironically, exactly who you're talking about, lmao.

You know that meme that goes "You guys would fuck a fence if it was white"? That, but it reads "You guys would forgive anything if a white man did it". If you're a skinny white man in a piece of fiction, you apparently just have a free pass to do and say literally fucking anything. It's actually genuinely insane. People will gaslight themselves so hard into thinking that skinny white man is hot and did nothing wrong, even when the whole function of his existence is that he totally and completely sucks and is entirely irredeemable and has never been sorry for anything he's ever done in his life and never will be, and is 100% aware of the fact that what he's doing is abusive and simply doesn't care. It's nuts. It's so nuts. What are you guys TALKING about.

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[Writing in notebook] Modern AU Cronus... Is Jeffree Star... Got it!

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Look, man. I've seen some shit. You have to understand how much I could fully see that happening. I flinched because it's realistic. Do you know how much Bec/Jade content there is? Help me.

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"Indirectly".

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Kankri even takes part in being Ableist to Mituna. It's crazy. They're fucking tag teaming to make Mituna's life as miserable as possible.

Really funny that people still take him as the good and correct guy when he's an Ableist Stalker that doesn't think Misogyny is real. This is the guy whose hill you're willing to die on? Get real!

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He's a great source for conflict. Excellent torture device to have primed in the toolbox of narrative crafting.

Completely intolerable as a person. He should actually genuinely go to jail. That's not a joke. He's literally a repeat sex criminal.

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It is so fucking funny watching people act like they would've been any better than her. Like, no, I can assure you that if you were walked on and ignored to the degree that she was, for the amount of time that she was, you'd start smashing planets together, too. No one here is better than Aranea. Aranea handled that shit better than a saint would.

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Can you believe people act like the past was better? Lmfao.

We've made at least some decent strides in making sure the fandom is at least a little safer. Don't know why people are looking at a sordid past littered with terrible behavior and and an intense amount of porn of children and unironically parroting that cute little fascist "Reject Modernity, Embrace Tradition!" meme. What the fuck are you on about?

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We can't fucking win. Either we have to sit in a little pool of the same 15 guys and never really get anything fresh on the table, or we can bait new people in and suddenly have to deal with a million people calling WV "The Mayor" and condescendingly calling everyone whiny bitches when you correct them or literally defending segregation in your notes or something.

That last one isn't a joke. I've literally had people defending segregation in my notes because I pointed out that it's weird as fuck that the Racial Kingdoms exist in PostCanon. They started going on about how it's okay because they all "have different needs" (so do humans?) and "Carapacians can't talk anyway" (yes they can??) and "Consorts are biologically stupider" (WHAT). Like. Holy shit. You should get hit by a car.

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Your honor, he never even did all that shit!! Get your facts straight!! Stop getting all your info from 23rd-hand sources!! Think for yourself!! AAAAAA!!!!

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casscainmainly · 3 months ago

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So, I saw your Cass & Jason should fight (& Cass should win obviously) tag and totally agree with your stance!

However, given how often Jason's been characterized as an incompetent "Thug" due to classism, I'd ideally want it to let both characters shine, which can't happen in a pure CQC scenario.

At top form Jason's a bit better than Bruce, (UTRH - Comic) which is enough to not get instantly shit stomped but not really enough to make spectacle or show off either characters best side.

Not sure how one could arrange it in current comics, but my ideal was always an alt timeline where Bruce died or had to step down post War Games & was replaced by Cass.

Naturally the dynamic with Red Hood is different, in that there isn't one, he avoids the new Batman like the plague and relies on backdoor hacking & spying to work around or sabotage her.

Thus its been a steep learning curve and exploration of Cass's other skills, IE detective work, people reading, weapons expertise (We know she's trained in guns & such after all)

A series would be ideal, but if it was just one comic issue, ideally the first third sets up the status quo & what is about to break it.

The second third lets Jason's strategic side shine, he's got ambushes, bombs, flares, those miniguns popping out of cars he loved so much.

Then the third and final segment is when Cass has finally found wherever he slipped away to after thinking he got away.

"... I don't suppose all the guns and bombs wore you out enough to make this easy on me did they?"

Cassandra just smirks.

Cue the final third (Or at least a decent portion of it) being an epic, but pointedly one-sided overall, duel. With every weapon, martial arts technique and piece of scenery put to use. All in the name of dragging out the fight for the audiences sake and cos it makes sense character wise.

Naturally Cassandra wins.

Oh my goodness?? You should write comics because I would read the HELL out of that. I definitely think Jason's intelligence has been weirdly diminished recently (definitely classism, combined with DC's push since New 52 to make Tim the 'smart' one and Jason the 'strong' one because why were they LIKE that in B&R: Eternal).

And Cass' arc in learning detective skills is one of the most underrated things in Batgirl (2000) and beyond! She is a detective and, while she for sure punches her way through stuff, her intelligence shouldn't be sidelined for her fighting prowess. So basically you've written the arc of my dreams.

Also I adore the idea that whoever takes the mantle, Jason will be there to be super annoying. Happened to Dick, and will happen to Cass as well. He's a multi-generational hater.

Someone write this please!!!!

#cassandra cain #jason todd #this NEEDS to happen #how do people come up with such good stories #WHY ARE YOU NOT HIRED BY DC YET #batgirl #red hood #this is exactly what i meant by i want cass and jason to fight

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mochiwrites · 6 months ago

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I wonder who would be the first to find out or if it's a group thing. if it's someone individually, would it be Mumbo or Cub like predicted or someone completely different? and HOW? what would make them realise? so invested in this au hehe

this has been sitting in my inbox for so long, wahhh I’m sorry!!! ;;;;

but okay. I’ve talked about a few different scenarios but the one that I’m running with as canon is:

the person to find out is xisuma. mostly because I think a) he’s the funniest option and b) it’s even better if he walks in on them being all gross and lovey. and really, with all the signs since scar first joined hermitcraft, it should’ve been obvious (“oh my goodness that’s what you meant when you said grian was your partner!”)

he’s then sworn to secrecy until the next hermitcraft meeting, where scar and grian just casually drop that their wedding anniversary is coming up, so if everyone could hold off on trying to get them together (again) for a few days, that’d be wonderful

there’s silence for a few seconds as everyone processes the bomb that’s just been dropped on them, before the room explodes with noise and everyone is just about losing their minds about scar and grian apparently being married and no one had any idea (except cub and pearl— they had their suspicions but just observed)

grian hits them with a “just wait until you find out how long we’ve been married for” and bdubs is ready to kill them <3

(the rest of the meeting turns into everyone bullying them for information and details)

#mochi speaks #secret husbands au

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cyborgnachte · 3 months ago

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I really like Roserric's expression in your latest piece. The intensity in his gaze as he looks at the viewer/onlooker is striking but simultaneously I can't seem to look away.

Do you think if he became Miquella's consort, he would be content with his life as such? And follow up, is this how he believed his life turning out this way?

He thought he was gunna help Ranni send the world into a new era of bomb-ass chaotic free will, so this is not what he was expecting, but he's happy with it in Scenario B.

#nachte's art #fromsoft fanart #elden ring #roserric er

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lenaboskow · 6 months ago

Text

i think i cracked the code to what the finale is going to be and i just--

i've seen people talking about the bts shots of the fire, and i've seen people talking about the eddie isolation, but i don't think i've seen anyone talking about these two facts together, or at least the way i'm about to.

if you haven't seen them, this are the bts shots we got of some fire that they were filming the other day

at first, a lot of people thought that maybe they were burning down the loft (it could be the loft set, and the fire truck in the background of the first pic could be there as safety measures) but then we got the second oic with the 133, which means that this has to be somewhere else.

i've seen theories about this being the warehouse that amir takes (or finds) bobby, but i've also seen people (myself included) talk about how this could be the firehouse, and i think that's what this is. in the first picture, to the right of the crew person's head, it looks like a garage door, and in the second picture the driveway looks too long to be a normal house.

now, what would burning down the firehouse mean? well, it would mean that everyone would have to be temporarily misplaced to other firehouses, kind of like how lena was in s3. they wouldn't all be in the same firehouse, and they'd be lucky if even two of them were stationed together.

why is this important?

because of this article ryan did

“There are some bombshells coming,” Ryan Guzman teases to TV Insider. “There are some massive events coming for Eddie. And as far as we know, Eddie has always kind of had somebody to run to. He might not have anybody to run to anymore for Season 8. Yeah, there are things that are going to be happening in Eddie’s life that are going to leave him feeling isolated.”

bombshells... amir placing bombs in the firehouse? (most likely not, he'll probably burn it down normally

massive events... the firehouse burning down while they're having a ceremony

not having anyone to run to... everyone is at different firehouses on different shifts (emphasis on the fact that buck and eddie are not on the same shift anymore)

things happening that leaves him feeling isolated... just like in season five, he's no longer working with his family, but this time it's worse because everyone's isolated from everyone

if they wanted to make the isolation have a little more kick, then everyone could be transferred to another station while staying on a shift (still not the same firehouses, but at least their schedules match) while eddie gets stuck with b shift somewhere

it just suddenly clicked for me, and in this scenario nobody is intentionally icing someone else out, and a lot of it would be very much eddie not processing his feelings right, which would make sense given the circumstances, and especially if we get an eddie feelings realization at the end of s7 or beginning of 8a

i don't know, this was very quickly written as a way to get my thoughts down into words, but if i find more evidence...

#911 spoilers #911 #911 on abc #911 speculation #911 abc #eddie diaz

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dr-futbol-blog · 6 months ago

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The Storm/The Eye, Pt. 4

Finally, the Genii arrive at Atlantis with Acastus Kolya at the helm. With Robert Davi acting, it's rather on the nose how much the events of the story follow the plot of Die Hard with Kolya as Hans Gruber and Sheppard as John McClane. And, as I mentioned the polysemic storytelling used by the series, the role of Holly Gennero is played by both McKay and Weir.

McKay and Weir are captured by the Genii almost immediately.

They're clever enough to keep their communicators on so that Sheppard can eavesdrop on the discussion. McKay is clearly frightened, even more so than Weir because he actually has experience of these people from before, but he's not about to give them anything that would jeopardize Sheppard (not even his own name, confirmation of which Sora provides for Kolya). Rodney is a brave little toaster but he's way in over his head. You can see by the minute tilt of his chin that he just entered What Would Sheppard Do? zone, he's trying to navigate the situation the way he thinks John would.

The fact that Weir responds verbally to Kolya's inquiry about his identity and McKay does not but is recognized anyway is exactly how the entire scenario plays out main text / sub text wise. We are verbally told: Elizabeth, from contextual cues we are able to interpret: Rodney.

We actually cut from Sheppard's reaction to what he just overheard to the storm brewing outside. Because if he was frightened of the storm and what it might do to this newly found home at the beginning of the episode, he's now terrified.

In the Genii home world when they were held hostage, McKay and Sheppard both attempted to keep the other safe in their own ways, and they continue doing just that here. Sheppard is using his military training, McKay is using his brain (and Weir is using her skills as a negotiator). McKay is trying to convey information that Sheppard could use by "accidentally" leaning on the communication panel but at the same time, he's letting him know that they are both still alive and unharmed. It's notable that all of the characters are lying to keep each other safe. They are saying counterfactual things in the hopes that the others might be spared.

Also notable: Kolya is smart enough to know that they are lying.

McKay seems to realize that he has no experience in dealing with the kind of sociopath Kolya is but he tries his best. He's being careful not to antagonize them unnecessarily and is also lying about the most important things.

Kolya has figured out that McKay is too important to be there. There must be a reason why he stayed behind. The Genii clearly recognize his importance on a lot of fronts, the least of them not being that he's the one that knows how to use the C4 to build an A-bomb which is something that the Genii don't know how to do. He would go as far as to injure McKay but it's doubtful he ever had intention of killing him.

But even under physical torture, he didn't give up Sheppard. The Genii only learn that Sheppard is in fact in the city through the radio he left in the armory himself. The only reason he gives out the plan to save the city is that he has such faith in Sheppard. This is why he looks guilty when Kolya and Sheppard have this exchange:

Kolya: Your offer is very generous, Major. Sheppard: Yes, it is. Kolya: However, Doctor McKay recently shared with me there's a plan in action to save the city. Sheppard: He did?! Kolya: He did.

Like, McKay overhears this and thinks that he's disappointed Sheppard; as though Sheppard is expressing surprise that he would do such a thing. The last thing McKay wants is to let the Major down. What their exchange is actually about is Kolya letting Sheppard know that he has hurt McKay enough to get information out of him, and Sheppard gets this.

And Sheppard's plan is to rescue them. He hides the thing that he knows the Genii care most about, the thing they can't do without, it being the C4. He's holding the most important thing to the Genii ransom because he hopes that this will be enough for him to get back the most important thing to him. Everyone is attempting to find the leverage and use it.

Knowing that Sheppard has walked into an ambush, even though he is afraid McKay tries to help him the only way he can which is by pointing out that something is invaluable (reminding them that they might break the only thing that can save the city if they start shooting at him). Likewise, Sheppard only went to the grounding station with the hope that doing what the Genii asked would keep Weir and McKay safe. And boy is McKay relieved to hear the Sheppard managed to dodge the ambush:

Note that it's McKay's reaction we get to this, and his alone.

Now, Sheppard makes the mistake of mentioning McKay because he just can't keep him out of his mouth. When you're thinking about something or someone, it's going to come out of your mouth. He tells Kolya that he's going to get "an earful from McKay for" his soldiers breaking the controls to the grounding station, and then this very thing actually happens. What he actually did was to demonstrate to a really intelligent sociopath that he knows McKay pretty damn well. Too well. And that he cares about him because damn, if that didn't signal familiarity between them.

Starting to play hardball, Kolya tells Sheppard "Say good-bye to Doctor Weir". But note that he actually looks at McKay just before he says this, thinking about something. Kolya and Sheppard are playing a game with extremely high stakes.

Now, it seems like Kolya threatening Weir is too much for Sheppard. It's the mention of Weir that throws him off the edge, right? Makes him threaten to destroy to whole city if he hurts her. Weir, and not McKay. Easy, heteronormative reading. That's what they say, after all.

The thing is, we've seen before that Sheppard is both a strategic thinker and (especially in Underground, S01E08) that especially when it comes to the Genii, he thinks that the less information they have about them, the better. He lied about the number of puddle jumpers they have. He was willing to let them know that they have a ship, but not that they have many ships. He stopped McKay from spilling the beans on how much weaponry they have. Each and every one of the characters have been lying through their teeth all through the ordeal to keep each other safe.

Kolya is likewise a strategic thinker. He's trying to figure Sheppard out. He has two hostages and he's trying to find out how he can use them for leverage. He knows all of them are lying.

Some people watch the episode and come to the conclusion that Sheppard cares about Weir the most because Kolya threatens her and he loses it. And like, he doesn't mention McKay so he must not care about him as much as he does about Weir. But it is precisely because McKay is the one he cannot and will not lose that he plays it out as though Weir is the one he cares the most about here. Giving the enemy that kind of leverage like revealing the thing you actually can't live without would be stupid. And Kolya figures it out anyway.

Sheppard tells him that if he hurts Weir, he would rather blow up Atlantis with all of them in it, indicating to him that Weir is the one he cannot afford to lose. Anything you do, just please don't kill her. And yet we end the episode with Kolya telling Sheppard that he is about to kill one of the two, and he's not telling him which. Having just glanced at McKay before he decided to test Sheppard out by threatening Weir by name.

Why would he do that? If Kolya believed that Weir was the one Sheppard cared most about like he indicated to Kolya, why would he not simply use the leverage Sheppard had just (on purpose) given him? Why suddenly be vague about which it's going to be?

Because Kolya can play 4D-chess too. And it's when Kolya tells Sheppard that he is going to kill one of them and he does not know which that is going to be that Sheppard actually capitulates, not when he threatened to kill Weir a moment ago. Notice that Sheppard was still relatively cool and level-headed when Kolya was just threatening her life; when her life was on the line, he was still negotiating with Kolya. But suddenly he loses it.

Note that while he's shouting throughout this dialogue because he's outside in the storm trying to get his voice heard, his tone of voice changes throughout:

Kolya: You killed two of my men. Sheppard: I guess we're even! [flippant] Kolya: I don't like even. Sheppard: I'm not finished yet! [bravado] Kolya: Neither am I. Say goodbye to Doctor Weir. Sheppard: The city has a self-destruct button. You hurt her, I'll activate it. Nobody'll get Atlantis. [still calmly negotiating, able to formulate a plan of action] Kolya: Even if it exists, Major, you need at least two senior personnel to activate it -- and I'm about to take one of them out of the equation. Sheppard: Kolya?! Kolya?! I'll give you a ship! I'll fly it out of here for you myself! KOLYA!! [suddenly desperate]

Sheppard is willing to do anything and say anything to keep McKay safe. The man he's fallen in love with. His home. The person he cares so much for that a stranger he's known for all of five minutes was able to figure it out and use it against him. Threatening Weir wasn't the thing that pushed him over the edge, it was not knowing which one the gun was pointed at and the fear that Kolya had figured him out, had his ticket.

This is when Kolya made himself into Sheppard's mortal enemy. And it's notable that in every one of their subsequent encounters, Kolya knows to use McKay to get to Sheppard.

Continued in Pt. 5

#stargate atlantis #sga #sga meta #john sheppard #sheppard is bi #rodney mckay #rodney is gay #ep. the storm #ep. the eye

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realm-sweet-realm · 6 months ago

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What would happen if hella boss and hazbin characters meet each other. Like Charlie and blizo. Alastor and stoles. Val and asmodeus ((you can pick anyone to meet ))

It's very easy to see Blitz developing a one-sided petty rivalry with Charlie if one of Blitz's previous repeat customers checked in at the Hazbin Hotel and decided that revenge murders aren't for them anymore. What would follow is Blitz trying to tempt all of Charlie's customers back to sin. Charlie might attempt to reform him even though he's a hellborn imp and not a sinner, because a) that way he'll cut this out, and b) Blitz is clearly miserable and Charlie would see the good in him. Of course, this scenario would lead to all kinds of interactions between the Hazbin cast and I.M.P.

-Cherri Bomb and Millie would have a figurative and literal blast together.

-Despite the obvious jokes about cats and dogs, Loona and Husker would get along great and would probably trade snarky remarks with each other as they watch the others' antics.

-Alastor would most likely be interested in Moxxie since Moxxie can be very malleable in the right circumstances. Expect Charlie to have to intervene on an attempted deal, perhaps multiple times.

-Vaggie would NOT like this and want Charlie to get these assassins out NOW. Charlie, they aren't even sinners! They can't go to heaven if they aren't dead people!

-Stolas is content to watch the shenanigans from afar and intervene only if Blitz is in trouble, but if he did show up, Angel Dust would be flirting with him in seconds and Blitz would not be a fan of that.

-Assuming Charlie could get Blitz to open up at all, she'd praise him on his progress in his relationship with his brother, and would encourage greater openness and a better sense of boundaries both in his own actions and the actions he chooses to accept. Maybe, even though he's just there to mess things up, the Hazbin Hotel could be a good experience for him.

#hazbin hotel #helluva boss #charlie morningstar #blitzo #cherri bomb #helluva millie #helluva loona #husker #alastor #vaggie #stolas #thanks for the ask #creepyalienghost

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ketrindoll · 4 months ago

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Russian scheduled threats to erradicate London, Europe, and whole Baltic states (reminder that Trump said he'll allow putin to do whatever), have become so pathetic, ruzzian own war propagandists are making fun of it:

[Rough transl.: There's a tradition in our TV: every few years virtually bomb London. There's new scenario, new speakers, but the attitude is old. But interesting graphic's]

First of all, London is the third capital of russian oligarchs. They have all their wives/kids/mistresses/Plan-B homes there. It's never getting destroyed for as long as russia has oligarchs.

But it's funny to see this negativity towards Kremlin propagandists from russia's own war dogs. Of course, they have a reason to think these claims are funny. After all, in 2.5 years ruzzia:

- Failed to bomb Ukrainian leadership and logistics, resorting to terrorism instead

- Failed to achieve full domination of the skies

- The attack pace is so "rapid" they present taking over any village as this huge victory

- Ruzzia's own air defence is so lame they cannot do anything not only about long-range Western missiles, but simple Ukrainian drones

Of course, ruzzians always knew their country is pathetic. It still never stopped them from wanting to erradicate every other nation on Earth to make themselves feel a bit better.

#russia #russia is a terrorist state #propaganda #london #united kingdom #europe #baltic states #ukraine

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vera-keller · 8 months ago

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switchblade | masters of the air | taster

Coming here is functionally a grounding. That much is clear. The B-17 is a metal coffin that, by some aeronautical miracle, has managed to attain the gift of flight despite everything – poor defensive coverage, inadequate range, weak nose structure – that suggests this should not have been the case.

Olivia Mariner looks up at the B-17s sitting obliviously in the hangar at Thorpe Abbotts and thinks about what it might be like to shoot one of them down.

It would be an easy target. B-17s are not intended for aerial combat, and their one singular, solitary tactic is apparently to fly continuously in formation even when being shot at, because performing evasive manoeuvres runs the risk of disrupting the formation and causing collisions. Mariner imagines herself in her P-51, armed with its two fifty-calibre nose-mounted machine guns and four thirty-calibre wing-mounted machine guns, the only conceivable match for the Luftwaffe’s fire-spitting death machines that she isn’t afraid of as long as she’s facing them down in her Mustang. She imagines herself as the enemy. How would she approach a Flying Fortress? How would she bounce it? It wouldn’t be difficult at all: she could outmanoeuvre a B-17 without breaking a sweat. She would move into its blind spot and break into a steep spiralling dive downward so the B-17’s Brownings – for which they do not carry sufficient supplies of ammunition that could last them over a minute of continuous gunfire – wouldn’t be able to maintain a target lock on her. Then she would pull her aircraft back up, sharply, abruptly, until she’s below the body of the B-17, where she has the perfect vantage point to shoot out the unprotected fuel tanks within the wings.

That’s all well and good, a strategic manufacturing error that could be fixed, without a doubt, throughout the Flying Fortress’s production run that will last until the end of the war. Until Mariner remembers that, in this scenario, she will no longer be the one in the fighter plane but rather the one getting burned to a crisp in the B-17 because the fuel tanks just exploded and eviscerated the fuselage before anyone even had the chance to bail.

Perhaps the situation would be less grim if she knew how to fly a B-17 at all.

How did she even end up here?

Fighter squadrons come before bombers. That is the standard principle of air warfare. Once air supremacy has been gained by more aerodynamic single-engined high-speed fighters – P-51s and P-40s and P-47s that require only a light touch to manoeuvre, the deft hand of a skilled pilot who knows their plane and its operational mechanisms as though it is an extension of their own body – that is when larger, long-range bombers come in to deliver their payloads of air-to-ground weaponry to strategic targets. Bombing raids cannot take place without the prerequisite of air supremacy as bombers, sufficiently implied in their name itself, are not themselves intended for aerial combat against enemy aircraft.

And therein lies the problem. To Mariner, it’s difficult to see the B-17 as little more than a large and defenceless flying flak-magnet. A warplane that cannot roll on its longitudinal axis, cannot pull into vertical climbs, cannot dive or loop or fly at steep angles or allow for aerobatics without disembowelling itself, is hardly a warplane at all, at least not in the sense that she defines what should constitute a warplane. She understands that heavy bombers are an entirely different grade of aircraft, one that requires a different series of skills that are no less demanding than that of a fighter pilot, one requiring the ability to work with a team, first and foremost, the idea of which she finds herself thinking of with a pit of tension in her lower stomach. She understands that this is necessary because a war cannot be won with fighter planes alone, as much as she would like to think that is a possibility. What she does not understand, however, is why she has been presently chosen to fly a bomber.

So that was what she told her squadron leader, word for word, when she first learned of her reassignment.

“I understand your concerns, Mariner,” was what her squadron leader, Tillotson – a thirty-something USAAF officer who had been in the Eagle Squadrons with her, primarily because he knew her father for some reason or another that she never bothered to find out – said in answer. “But it is an operational need. The 100th has a shortage of pilots and they can’t continue flying missions at the volume they’re expected to if this shortage continues. We’ve reached a point in the war where our strategic focus must shift toward bombing campaigns. You have the relevant flying experience that qualifies you for retraining and reassignment toward where the war effort needs you most. Repurposing you as a bomber pilot now, of all times, makes every sense to me.”

Mariner blinked in disbelief. She didn’t like the suffix makes every sense to me, the finality of it, the implication that this was now a non-negotiable and non-retractable decision already made by her superiors, a decision that centrally concerned her yet one she had no part in making.

“Sir,” she began, “heavy bombers require escort fighters. Our squadron can do that. I’ve been asking for it in my sitreps since we first started strategic bombing. Wouldn’t it be more practical to keep me here and deploy us as escorts as I recommended, rather than retrain me from the ground up?”

“It is something we thought of, yes. But having enough pilots is crucial for whether the 100th can remain operational. If they can’t fly missions, you’ll have nothing to escort. Now is when we need our best and brightest to step up and fill in for the shortage of pilots capable of flying those missions that a complete novice coming out of flight school cannot.”

Best and brightest. The sudden compliment took Mariner by surprise, filled her momentarily with a glow of pride radiating from that little hollow at the base of her throat that warms up every time she receives some kind of validation. She cleared her throat self-consciously.

“Who else is getting reassigned? Smith? Heppell?”

Tillotson paused briefly. “We decided that you alone would be the best fit for the transition.”

Apart from the fact that it made no sense to single out one member of a squadron for a reassignment, there was almost no chance that she would be the best natural candidate. Mariner thought for a brief half-second that she would not pick herself to be reassigned to a bomber unit if she had the choice of other members in her squadron, members who would indubitably be more patient and longsuffering when it came to flying a heavy bomber, both of which she was not.

And then the realisation dawned on her, like the awful downward shudder of the blade of a guillotine. The previous glow of pride disappeared, replaced immediately by a simmering indignant rage that bubbles to the surface. “You’re bumping me out of the squadron!”

“Mariner—”

“That is exactly what you’re doing! Best and brightest my ass. You think I don’t fit in with the rest of your squad because of how I fly. Because you think I’m going to collide with my wingman every time when I so much as move my aircraft a centimetre to the left. Because that one time on patrol, when I was guarding your tail, I said your call sign when I wasn’t supposed to and broke formation, and that was because I saw three 109s above us on our six about to pulverise us and you hadn’t even seen them yet!”

Another thought came to her then, one that sent a fresh wave of anger coursing through her as though her dam of restraint – which admittedly was never a particularly robust structure – had broken. She was aware that she was losing her temper. She was aware that she was not to lose her temper around her superior officers under any circumstances. But that awareness was purely academic now, and at any rate it was disappearing quickly out the window.

“You can’t trust me in a single-seat fighter, is that it? You think I need a whole team of people behind me to make sure I don’t fuck up?”

It was less of a question and more of an accusation, and the very idea of it was absurd to Mariner. Saying it out loud only cemented its absurdity. Who in their right mind wouldn’t trust her in a fighter? She’d been in combat with Bf 109s since before Pearl Harbour and America’s formal entrance into the war. It was indubitable fact – one that seemed to be obvious to all except Tillotson and the others responsible for making this ill-conceived decision – that she was one of the most competent fighters in the squadron. Three years of flight experience with the No. 71. Seven aircraft destroyed. An ace by the end of the Battle of Britain. Such accomplishments were not coincidental. Mariner knew it. And unless you have some kind of malfunction, she thought bitterly, then you don’t transfer a pilot with those accomplishments under their belt out of your squadron as petty punishment. You’re supposed to keep them and hold onto them and deploy them on high-risk missions that accurately reflect the value of their skill set!

“Lieutenant Mariner,” Tillotson said, raising his voice now, in a way that brooked no argument. “I was hoping to save both of us from this conversation and let you accept your reassignment amicably, but it appears you’re determined to have this conversation, in which case I’ll be clear with you. You’re not a good fit in my squadron. You take unnecessary and ill-calculated risks that endanger not only yourself but also your wingmen and the outcome of the mission as a whole. On our last sortie, you completely disregarded formation and went off on that solo chase of yours after an enemy fighter, leaving your leader’s tail vulnerable to attack. And what is most alarming is the fact that this incident is not an isolated one, nor is it the first time you’ve flagrantly disregarded orders to do what you think is clever. We’re lucky nothing catastrophic has happened so far, but luck won't always be on our side, as you seem to believe it will always be on yours.”

He paused for a moment, his brow low and creased, his eyes fixed upon Mariner’s, as though examining her closely for her reaction.

“You’re rough on the stick, Olivia, but I’ve seen potential in you. Even so, talent alone won’t cut it and your consistent lack of discipline is compromising the overall effectiveness of our unit. I’ve seen pilots like you – good pilots capable of exercising mathematically precise command of their aircraft – shot down for less. You should know better than anyone that, up in the air, in a Mustang, split-second decisions can mean the difference between life and death. I need to be able to trust every member of my squadron to make those decisions, and make them correctly. And right now I can’t trust you to do that.”

There was a long agonising pause. Mariner’s expression remained unchanged, though she thought her stomach had vanished. She was suddenly conscious of how she was standing up very straight with her body held up at her sternum, and of the tachycardic rhythm of her heartbeat that for a brief moment she irrationally feared Tillotson might hear it.

It is a rare thing for words from a superior officer to cut so deep, though Mariner doesn’t like the idea that any words might be able to cut her at all. She has gone through flight training like everyone else and made her share of mistakes in every plane she has learned to pilot – Mustangs and Warhawks and Thunderbolts alike – and she has grown accustomed to the stony visages of instructors, their crushing expectations and the feeling where you irrevocably begin to question your own strength of character and purpose and worth whenever you fail to meet them. Yet she came through with top marks and everyone who has ever been disappointed by her has eventually been proven wrong. She would have thought that, by now, her skin has already thickened into something comparable to steel.

Yet, when she stood there in Tillotson’s office, being told that she could not be trusted to fly, Mariner felt utterly reduced. It was a humiliating kind of reduction. And humiliation made her angry, a unique cornered anger of its own kind that seethed all the way down to the bone.

Tillotson seemed to sense this. His voice softened slightly, becoming conciliatory, in the way only a victor acutely aware of his own impending victory could afford to do.

“This is not an exile, Mariner,” was what he said. “This is when you prove yourself. Maybe a change of perspective will help you understand the gravity of your actions and teach you some restraint. It is an opportunity. Don’t squander it.”

“It’s an opportunity?” Mariner’s jaw clenched. She knew now the reassignment was inevitable. She knew that the decision had indeed been made on her behalf without any of her input and she had, somehow, been played so well that she happened to be the last to figure it out. And if she was to start learning restraint on her reassignment, she supposed that she didn’t need to begin now. “It’s not a goddamn opportunity, and you know it. It’s punishing me for something I haven’t even done. Yeah, I went after that enemy fighter on my own. And you know what? I shot it down. I saw an opportunity and I seized it instead of waiting around for the 109s to regroup. Isn’t that what we’re trained to do? Adapt, improvise, overcome, all that?”

“There’s a stark difference between adapting, improvising and overcoming, Olivia, and putting the rest of your squadron at risk,” Tillotson replied firmly. And then, what really pissed her off: “You have to learn, one way or another, that the USAAF is an ecosystem where every element, down to the individual fighter, must depend upon command structure to function. It’s not a place for young Turks wanting to prove themselves and be a hero. Don’t worry. I’'ll make sure no one else takes up the Switchblade call sign when you’re gone.”

At this Mariner felt her blunt fingernails digging pink crescent moons into her palms. That was an extraordinarily low blow. It was not merely the complete misconstruction of her character – as a willful contrarian who thinks only of their own glory, apparently – that incensed her, but beyond that it was the fear that thrummed at a deeper sub-cellular level, a fear that this may be how she was truly seen by her superiors, how her efforts and achievements were being interpreted by those who disregard her as little more than an ordinary pilot who likes to think of herself as extraordinary. And the placement of the command structure meant that she could not rectify this mistake or defend herself against this obvious besmirching of her name and reputation without risking a dishonourable discharge from the military altogether.

So she did what she does best.

“Fine. You want discipline?” she said, her voice lowering into something hard and cold and stubborn. “I can do that. I’ll get into a bomber. I’ll drop a few bombs. But mark my words, sir, you’re making a mistake. Both you and I know exactly what I can do and what I should be out there doing, whether I’m in a Mustang or a tin can with wings. And when the time comes, when you need someone with enough balls to fly through hell and back under twenty-millimetres and flak, don’t be surprised when you come back to me because there’s no one else up for the job.”

She did not resign herself to waiting around for Tillotson’s reaction. Instead she saluted him sharply in a way that suggested an obvious grudge, pivoted on her heels and marched out of the room. She refused to even attempt to try and understand Tillotson’s reasoning as there could be no possible reasoning on God’s green earth that could justify this decision. Perhaps an attempt at figuring out his reasoning, however unfounded it may be, could come later, when she has spent enough aimless months with the 100th to supposedly have learned her lesson and earned a place back on her former fighter squadron. But the embers of rage were still very much scorching hot in her hands, hissing and spitting and burning wherever they touched her skin, and she refused out of pure spite to put them down, so she carried them with her all the way until she reached Norfolk, England.

#series: switchblade #oc: olivia mariner #masters of the air #meet your local cocky flyboy #or flygirl #olivia mariner is an unreliable narrator

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silicacid · 1 year ago

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No evidence of inflated mortality reporting from the Gaza Ministry of Health

Benjamin Q Huynh, Elizabeth T Chin, Paul B Spiegel

Published: December 06, 2023

Mortality reporting is a crucial indicator of the severity of a conflict setting, but it can also be inflated or under-reported for political purposes. Amidst the ongoing conflict in Gaza, some political parties have indicated scepticism about the reporting of fatalities by the Gaza Ministry of Health (MoH).

The Gaza MoH has historically reported accurate mortality data, with discrepancies between MoH reporting and independent United Nations analyses ranging from 1·5% to 3·8% in previous conflicts. A comparison between the Gaza MoH and Israeli Foreign Ministry mortality figures for the 2014 war yielded an 8·0% discrepancy.2 Public scepticism of the current reports by the Gaza MoH might undermine the efforts to reduce civilian harm and provide life-saving assistance. Using publicly available information, we compared the Gaza MoH's mortality reports with a separate source of mortality reporting and found no evidence of inflated rates. We conducted a temporal analysis of cumulative-reported mortality within Gaza for deaths of Gazans as reported by the MoH and reported staff member deaths from the United Nations Relief and Works Agency for Palestine Refugees in the Near East (UNRWA), from Oct 7 to Nov 10, 2023. These two data sources used independent methods of mortality verification, enabling assessment of reporting consistency.

We observed similar daily trends, indicating temporal consistency in response to bombing events until a spike of UNRWA staff deaths occurred on Oct 26, 2023, when 14 UNRWA staff members were killed, of whom 13 died in their homes due to bombings. Subsequent attacks raised the UNRWA death rate while MoH hospital services diminished until MoH communications and mortality reporting collapsed on Nov 10, 2023. During this period, mortality might have been under-reported by the Gaza MoH due to decreased capacity. Cumulative reported deaths were 101 UNRWA staff members and 11,078 Gazans over 35 days. By comparison, an average of 4884 registered deaths occurred per year in 2015–19 in Gaza.

Cumulative reported mortality rates (Oct 7–Nov 10, 2023)

Data are calculated by separate death reports from the Gaza Ministry of Health (MoH; red line) and the United Nations Relief and Works Agency for Palestine Refugees in the Near East (UNRWA; blue line).

If MoH mortality figures were substantially inflated, the MoH mortality rates would be expected to be higher than the UNRWA mortality rates. Instead, the MoH mortality rates are lower than the rates reported for UNRWA staff (5.3 deaths per 1000 vs 7.8 deaths per 1000, as of Nov 10, 2023). Hypothetically, if MoH mortality data were inflated from, for example, an underlying value of 2–4 deaths per 1000, it would imply that UNRWA staff mortality risk is 2.0–3.9 times higher than that of the public. This scenario is unlikely as many UNRWA staff deaths occurred at home or in areas with high civilian populations, such as in schools or shelters.

Mortality reporting is difficult to conduct in ongoing conflicts. Initial news reports might be imprecise, and subsequent verified reports might undercount deaths that are not recorded by hospitals or morgues, such as persons buried under rubble. However, difficulties obtaining accurate mortality figures should not be interpreted as intentionally misreported data. Although valid mortality counts are important, the situation in Gaza is severe, with high levels of civilian harm and extremely restricted access to aid. Efforts to dispute mortality reporting should not distract from the humanitarian imperative to save civilian lives by ensuring appropriate medical supplies, food, water, and fuel are provided immediately.

#show this academic journal every time someone said they doubt the number of casualties in gaza #its even UNDERREPORTED #BC ISRAEL KEEP KILLING HCW AND UN STAFF #free palestine #from the river to the sea palestine will be free #palestine #gaza

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neogandw · 9 months ago

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Page 4 of 6, the rest can be seen here.

Honestly this is the part where I just get to have fun with the training montage and the reason of why I love Smash Bros like I do.

The gameplay IS fun even if I don't actually play online matches all that much (I'm not all that competitive, I play mostly solo or with friends exclusively), but to me Smash Bros is a toy box.

I love these universes and Smash Bros has introduced me to many more over the years, to me its an introduction to various things I could learn and play with, and even more fun to me its concocting how these series gel together and how you could use their elements as playthings to craft a story or a cohesive universe.

I explored this before with another massive comic I made, honestly kind of one this is a sequel to. Its "The Strongest Fighter".

To me, I am not interested at all in "who would beat who", I prefer to think of "Okay, if these two were to meet, how WOULD it go down?" or "If so was in this situation, what would they do?", the joke of the Strongest Fighter comic is not to actually decide who is the strongest in terms of made-up power levels, but rather an exploration of how these characters view and talk about one of their own in a context disguised as a poorly thought-out question.

A lot of people tend to miss this, sadly, even if Shulk points out "Anyone can beat up Kirby" rather blatantly at the end.

So, going back to Page 4, its also similarly an exploration of the question "how do you go on about getting strong in this context?".

With splatoon, there's not much other than "pick up the weapon and sink or swim, we ain't an helicopter parent, you figure it out". But when you introduce the idea of a MENTOR (specially one out of universe like Peach is) how would you go on about teaching something so abstract as getting good aim?

Its not so much that Orange needs training in weaponry at all, I did make it a point to show that she was Super Fresh with everything BUT the Chargers back on Page 1, but that her aiming skills with the Charger are so off that:

Speedy targets won't stay still (Joker just dodging out of the way)

Her shots are blantantly obvious (Samus just leaning her head to the side)

She's not using shooting at a range, so her aim is so off that she misses even in Super Flat World.

So the training montage is tackling these issues.

Study up and learn how the weapon actually works, as I said her first mistake was skipping up Sheldon's explanation, so the first thing Peach does is explain the basics of the weapon to Orange (if you notice, the billboard does show things like leading the shot as exemplified with the Rabbid, using bombs to flush out your enemies and the importance of things like Ink Saver). Basic stuff, but you do hit the books to learn your tool.

Learn in a safe envoirement that is somewhat predictable, and it is slow going (notice the timer of the Break the Targets), get used to shooting long-distance first and foremost, no matter how long it takes.

Then you introduce the erraticness (AKA: the ducks) and practice off that, Orange hit exactly half and Peach mentions as much. The dog may laugh, but its a start.

And finally, put it to the test. I specifically chose Sonic to be the target to be hit because he'd be the most erratic, fastest and would NOT allow himself to be hit that easily. Landing a headshot on Sonic has to be the hardest thing you could do.

I did mostly pick scenarios that would be funny, but I did want it to be a ramping up in getting good. Not just jumping from point A to point B and just skipping to "welp, you're a god at sniping now".

Anyway, the hidden jokes and references of this page:

I used to be a teacher (programming, if you're curious), so the panel of Inkling Girl going to school is reminiscent of my experiences as a teacher and a student. hence why Inkling Girl's set-up on the school resambles what I know rather than the desks you find on Garreg Mach. Such as taking special attention to draw the ever present ruler, using a square notebook for math, the pencil sharpener and erasers being the ones we use down here on México and the bag being a knock-off rather than an official product. Its just sort of the norm you see around here.

You may notice the random calendar on the Garreg Mach page on the top left. On the coloring process I decided to add to the joke of Inkling Girl going to school by imitating a Persona UI.

Originally the joke was to have it be styled after P5's, but the UI used wound up being Persona 3's instead. Not only is it topical thanks to Reload, but the reason I did it is that curiously -just as I was working on this panel- I hit this date on reload ( 8/10 ) and it just so happened that THIS is when you downright lose an entire week worth of days because Mitsuru decided to sign you up for summer classes without consulting you. Fitting for Inkling Girl sacrificing her own free time to learn and study.

Small thing, but if you actually read Orange's notebooks you may notice she's dividing by zero.

Just to show how much Inkling girl sucks at aiming, the break the targets timer is there to show how badly she's doing. Normally during Break the Targets you either get timed to your best time counting UP if you're doing it on the dedicated mode or counting DOWN from 2 minutes if you do it from Classic Mode. The timer instead reads 28:05.15, meaning that Peach had her do it at her own pace and its been nearly half an hour of just missing shots (since she's only been able to hit 1 target so far).

Also, the timer number may be random, but its actually Splatoon 1's release date. I love to hide significant numbers like that on my works. I forgot to mention it but Peach's player ID back on page 3 was also a release date.

And to add on to the cute factor, the platform they're standing on in Break the Targets is actually taken directly from Peach's stage. So she's lending her own target test for the practice.

Fun fact: on the Duck Hunt panel you can see the UI discussing how many ducks have been hit by Inkling Girl. Not easily apparent though is the blue bar below the ducks.

THAT is the minimum requirement. In the original Duck Hunt the UI for the duck tally would shift over to the left and be compared to that blue bar, if you didn't shoot enough ducks to go beyond where the bar was pointing at the game would end.

Essentially, Peach is asking for a bare minimum of 4 ducks to be hit, which Inkling Girl technically did as she managed 5, but she's still frustrated due to the dog's mockery.

Irregardless of how the montage was gonna go on the planning phase, I always wanted to have Sonic be the last test for Inkling's improvement because -once more- I like to think more in-character when writting down these scenarios.

Sonic is the fastest thing alive, he's capable of dodging whatever bullet or explosive eggman tends to throw at him (capable, not reliable, it depends on player input if he does so or not). So he'd be perfect for target practice, specially for something like Sniping.

Sonic's pride would NOT agree with being shot in the face, admittedly, but he could be talked into it if asked as both a challenge and a request. Peach wouldn't put anyone in danger and it is really just ink, so if its for the sake of helping others, Peach could reliably ask Sonic to do it and he'd at least take solace in helping someone else. Though he'd likely taunt and make it as hard as possible due to his ego.

To show that it was amicable and that Sonic agreed to it I had the two bits of Peach handling a tower and Sonic giving a thumbs up, to show that he was in on the plan.

I could have drawn Green Hill Zone again (in fact, the planning phase did had it AS Green Hill), but I instead opted to go with Seaside Hill as the background (kind of a mistake on my part since Ocean Palace is OBTUSE on its architecture), mostly because I wanted some scenery variety with Sonic, its not always gonna be on Green Hill Zone, you know.

The Loading screen that Inkling is having on her head while she realizes she passed the final test is from Sonic 06, which I shouldn't have to tell you that its infamous for its loading.

I originally wanted it to be Splatoon's loading icons, but those would have required animation since they're not visually understandable otherwise. So I just went with the Sonic theme and made it match.

The UI used for the last two panels are the stage clear screens for Splatoon 2 and Splatoon 1 respectively. Also, I didn't just copy-paste the assets from Splatoon 3 into the comic, every time you see the weapon icons like that its one of my recreation of those assets.

#Splatoon #Smash Bros #Princess Peach #Super Mario Bros #Mario #Sonic #Sonic the Hedgehog #SSBU #Smash #Independent Artist #Commissions #Fire Emblem #Byleth #Fire Emblem Three Houses

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