#best ramp agent training course

[wingsway01]

A quick summary of ramp service in the airport and ground handling policies and procedures that you should be aware of when working on a ramp is included in the ramp agent training course. This course offers a strong foundation for continued career advancement in ground operations, regardless of your level of business experience or current position.

[annieqattheperipheral]

for reference here's michael nylander's hockeydb

for my willy babes💕 here u go:

- - - - - - -

STOCKHOLM — About 35 minutes outside Stockholm sits the place that always felt most like home for William Nylander.

It is the long-time offseason home of former NHLer Michael Nylander, and it’s where the Nylander family has been congregating every summer since William Nylander was a boy.

There’s the main house, the guest house and the barn where William practically lived from the time he was old enough to hold a hockey stick. It isn’t the kind of barn where you might house cows, horses and piles of hay. It’s nicer than that, William says. There are wooden floors and, as you might expect in a household of hockey players, two hockey nets.

William and his younger brother Alex would be holed up there for hours, day after day, every summer when they were kids.

Alex would play goalie and William would fire shots. Sticks would be thrown. Fights would ensue.

“But then after the fight, no matter what happened,” Alex said, “we would be best friends again.”

Then they might step and fire pucks on the shooting ramp Michael built in the yard by the soccer nets. After that, zip the 30 seconds it took to the nearby dock for a jump in the lake. Then, a visit to the sauna.

As boys, William and Alex would often make their way over to their father’s gym, where they would watch Dad go through his offseason workouts in preparation for another NHL season.

Then, the summer would come to an end and young William, and the rest of the family, would follow Dad back to North America. Somewhere in North America.

William Nylander’s life has been forever split between two worlds and two homes.

- - - - - - -

Almost every fall, it seemed, Dad’s NHL jersey changed.

Which meant a new city, new school, new friends, new home, new minor hockey team and new hockey heroes for William (outside of Dad, of course).

William Nylander was born in Calgary while his dad was playing for the Flames. Michael was traded there from Hartford. He spent parts of five seasons with the Flames before they dealt him to Tampa Bay. Michael played only 35 games for the Lightning before another deal sent him — and the family — to Chicago.

Trades weren’t talked about in the singular, but rather, the “we.” Michael Nylander wasn’t getting traded. The Nylanders were.

William was just starting the first grade when the Blackhawks traded his dad yet again, after only nine games in the fall of 2002, to Washington. The Capitals flipped Michael to Boston not long before the 2004 trade deadline.

Michael signed with the New York Rangers not long before the 2004-05 lockout. After two seasons there, the family trekked back to Washington, where Michael signed as a free agent.

Over 17 years, Michael Nylander played for seven teams – none lasting longer than a 239-game run with the Blackhawks. He also suited up in Sweden, Switzerland, Russia and Finland, as well as minor league outposts in Rochester and Grand Rapids.

“Moving around – it’s been like that since I was born,” William said. “It’s just the way it was. And actually, every time we moved somewhere, we thought it was fun.”

Moving came to feel normal. The first week at a new school was nerve-wracking, but also familiar. So was making new friends in Chicago, Washington, and New York, the three spots that occupied most of William’s childhood.

It helped that William and Alex always had each other, along with four sisters. Alex was born in Calgary two years after William. They did everything together.

“Willy and Alex, they’re like stuck,” said Rasmus Sandin, the former Toronto Maple Leafs defenceman and a close friend of the Nylander family. “They’re together all the time.”

Alex says William is a little quieter than he is, a little less goofy, and more similar to their dad.

Thommy Nylander, Michael’s younger brother and William’s uncle, thinks William inherited his father’s mentality, among other things. Thommy trains William every summer (he’s also a chiropractor and often treats William) and said his thoroughness in preparation is very much like Michael’s.

“He’s so warm and a nice guy, but when you get to the gym, he’s very serious about working,” Thommy said. “He’s probably the best player, but he’s still doing the hours and he’s serious. He doesn’t want to waste time.”

Anders Sorensen, who coached William when he was a kid in Chicago, saw him do things that seemed beyond the comprehension for someone his age. Like the time William dropped the puck behind his own net and took off.

“What are you doing?” Sorensen asked.

“Well, we’re breaking out!” Nylander responded. “It’s a power play!”

He was unmistakably the son of an NHLer.

Michael would bring William and Alex around to the rink often. They thought it was the coolest thing imaginable, being there with Dad where actual NHL hockey was being played.

William would hop onto the ice with Alex and shoot pucks before practice. Then he would retreat, on Dad’s orders, to the ping-pong lounge. From there, they would amble over to the dressing room and inspect the sticks of their father’s teammates – stars like Tony Amonte and Doug Gilmour in Chicago or Jaromir Jagr and Peter Bondra in Washington.

When Michael played for the Rangers, the Nylanders lived for a time in Greenwich Village — about a half-hour’s walk from Madison Square Garden. William’s mother, Camilla, would walk the kids around midtown Manhattan before Michael’s games and then walk up the stairs into the arena.

The “green room” at MSG was particularly special.

“I guess it’s called a family room,” William said. “But me and my brother called it the green room. ‘We’re going to the green room!’ Go smash a Coke every period and watch the game.”

In the green room, they could sip as much Coca-Cola as they wanted.

“It’s like ‘Mom, can I have a Coke?’ ‘No. Today’s not Saturday.’ There you don’t even have to ask mom,” William said.

Their mini sticks were with them always. William and Alex didn’t need much to create a playing ground. A doorway for a goal was all it took.

That’s what made their house in Washington so thrilling: It had a big basement that was perfect for hockey. And because their dad just happened to play in the NHL, those games grew to include actual NHL players.

Fellow Swede Nicklas Backstrom visited the Nylander home for dinner frequently. Backstrom says he felt like another one of Michael’s kids. For William and Alex, Backstrom was their dad’s work colleague and also an honourary sibling.

At one Thanksgiving dinner, the Nylanders — with chef Michael doing the cooking — hosted Backstrom and his even starrier Capitals teammate, Alex Ovechkin.

Life amongst the stars was just part of the deal for William growing up. There was that one time he looked up in the elevator at MSG and saw Mario Lemieux standing across from him.

- - - - - - -

Michael taught William the game. At first, he just let William and Alex play for fun. But as they grew older and more serious about the sport, he would instruct them on how to shoot, how to skate, how to do everything on the ice. They would watch, take notes and try to do it all the same.

“Growing up, we would follow him around and stuff, but it wasn’t like he was pushing us or anything,” William said. “But once we decided that we wanted to play, he helped us out a lot and pushed us in the right way.”

Dan Houck, who coached William when he lived in Washington, saw the same thing in him that he did with all the sons of the Capitals he coached. They all seemed to come fully stocked with a certain hockey intelligence.

William saw the ice just like his dad, Thommy Nylander says.

“William was front-row to some of the most dynamic offensive talents in the NHL,” Houck said. “I think that was formidable for him in his development as a player.”

Backstrom remembers watching William and Alex both play for a local youth team. “I knew they were special players, for sure,” he said. “They were dominant.”

“I always looked up to my dad and wanted to be like my dad,” William said.

But William never played much like his dad. Michael was a pure setup man. He didn’t have William’s power as a skater or shooter.

Sorensen wonders if William, raised on all those North American rinks, had more of a shooter’s mentality than his dad, who came up in Europe, where most players think pass first.

Sorensen coached William and his dad together for Södertälje in the Swedish Hockey League when William was 16 and Michael was almost 40. They would all chuckle at signs in the rink that said explicitly: “No parents allowed on the bench.”

Not only were they on the same bench, but often the same line, with William at right wing and Michael in the middle. During one game, William pleaded with his dad: “Pass me the puck instead of hanging onto it!”

Michael wasn’t an overbearing hockey dad. He even pushed his boys to explore other sports. He did like to ask lots of questions though.

“I call him ‘Wallander’ sometimes,” Sorensen said, referring to the fictional Swedish detective, “He’s always like, ‘Why is that? What do you think about that? Why did you do it this way? Why did you do it that way?’ He’s a smart man. He’s a very smart man. He cares for his family, he cares for people around him so I’ve always got along with him great.”

As Sorensen noted, it was usually Camilla who handled a large chunk of the duties when it came to getting William to the rink.

- - - - - - -

Even as a youngster, the skill always popped with William.

Houck remembers the first time he faced William, when he was 10 and playing for the Greenwich Jr. Blues. Houck’s squad was a year older, but they still trailed by a goal late and pulled their goalie. The puck popped up and hit the stick of the “wrong” player — William Nylander. He calmly shot it down the ice into the empty net.

“Not many kids at age 10 would have the wherewithal [to do that],” Houck says. “If you miss that and it’s an icing, then the puck’s pinned in your end again.”

Sorensen remembers a select tournament in Toronto when William faced off against future NHLers like Connor McDavid, Josh Ho-Sang and Robby Fabbri. Someone came up to Sorensen and said: “This Nylander kid, he’s right up there with all those other guys.”

Michael was a little surprised when he heard about it: “They really think he’s that good?”

Houck’s primary objective when he coached Nylander was to ensure he didn’t stifle that skill. He wanted to let those gifts shine as brightly as possible, especially in key spots with the game on the line.

What sticks out most in Houck’s memory of William is how he loved the game. This wasn’t a kid who played because of his dad. It was the opposite with William, who would even sneak onto the ice with Alex’s team whenever he could.

“We always just loved hockey from the first time we ever played it,” Alex said.

- - - - - - -

William still retreats to Sweden every offseason.

“Mostly what you miss about Sweden is the family,” he said.

The Nylanders are an especially tight bunch. Michael is one of seven siblings himself. It’s not uncommon for the Nylanders to make their way to Toronto. Thommy and his older brother, Peter, came to watch in April.

In his early years with the Leafs, William was announced at home games as hailing from Calgary. That changed a couple of seasons ago. Now, when he’s introduced, it’s “from Stockholm, Sweden.”

Stockholm became home on a more permanent basis at 14 when Michael’s NHL days came to an end and when William, with Canadian and Swedish citizenship, had to decide where he would play his hockey internationally. He and Alex both opted for Sweden. That’s when he and Alex could begin to enjoy the outdoor rinks in and around Stockholm and “play and play and play and never go home” as Alex remembered it.

For a long time, William stayed with his parents when he returned to Sweden in the summer. He’s since bought an apartment in Stockholm and invited Alex to live with him in the offseason. They take William’s two dogs for walks down by the water. They hit Ciccios for dinner or Brasserie Astoria next door, or Restaurant AG for a quality steak.

William will golf five days a week with Sandin during the offseason, forever finding space for a daily nap. William and Alex might have friends over and still William will dip out for his daily nap. “We both nap a lot,” Alex said, “but you’ll never see somebody who naps more than my brother. He’ll nap 365 days of the year.”

William is still trained at home by his dad through his Playmaker92 agency.

William and Alex will usually hit the gym around 8 a.m. By 10, it’s over to the ice with a much larger group that includes Sandin and his brother, Linus, for on-ice sessions lasting an hour and a half led by Michael.

Few, if any, NHL players are trained by their former NHL-playing fathers. Michael is known to be a master of the details, creating the kind of skill drills that only a former player of his calibre could.

Another bonus of returning home to Sweden for William is the chance to eat his dad’s cooking.

Michael has been something of a foodie dating back to his playing days. He prepares “gourmet” meals with a starter, main, and dessert. (Unprompted, Backstrom mentioned Michael’s excellent food.)

Sandin remembers a particularly delicious potato pancake and says the experience of eating a Michael Nylander meal is “like you’re going to a Michelin-star restaurant.”

That’s the thing about Sweden for William. It’s home. It’s family. It’s the place he could, and can still, always come back to. It’s the place where he’s able to find some distance from his hockey-playing life.

The days of hopscotching around North America have long been over. William has played the entirety of his career with the Leafs. Toronto has become his adopted second home. He rides the TTC to most home games these days.

He feels settled in Toronto, though, he adds with a big laugh, “With every year having a trade rumor.”

Two worlds. Two homes. Forever the life of William Nylander.

It’s how he was made.

[buff-pink]

How to 5-star Zarya's Hero Mastery Courses

Charge off of friendly bots and combine primary and secondary fire to get points for secondary accuracy and high energy kills (you need more than 60 energy to count as high energy). Use secondary fire, aim it at the bot, and then zap it as it lands to do more damage at once. Environmental kills only count toward secondary fire accuracy and you can kill bots faster with this method. (and i do it outside of hm too. it's the best way to use her weapon)

Killing bots with the explosives gets you credit for kills but not for high energy/secondary fire points. Don't grav the bots into the hole, kill them in the grav with your weapon. You don't need your grav at all for most of the runs but they show up in areas where you can charge off your bubbles and you can kill them faster with a grav and one right click.

Every second counts. Get to the end before the 3x multiplier ends. That means you have to plan out a path and make frame perfect plays. This will take a lot of repetition and practice. It took me multiple premature restarts on each course to figure out how I'd run them.

Bubble jump onto platforms where you can. In the agent stage you can use the platform you knock the rocket bot from to bubble jump from instead of taking the ramp.

You don't need every emblem/to kill every robot to get 5 stars but you can actually 100% each stage with the 3x multiplier still active. Best thing to do is try to run through each room and collect/kill everything you can but don't hesitate or turn around. Just keep going.

Get your ally damage mitigated points up. Bubble the robot as soon as it spawns in Agent. Time your bubbles to both be ready for this bit because it's the only chance to get ally damage mitigation points.

Don't let exploding robots explode, kill as many as you can. Letting them explode won't get you points. Shoot the floor in front of tank bots to boop them off the ledge. Having at least 50ish charge is enough to one shot rocket bots with direct secondary fire.

Other things to consider: Your statistic points max out at 200 so after you get enough kills with your weapon and bubbling friendly bot enough, booping/exploding/graving bots is fine. I still don't do it because the kills don't count until they've fallen, and that's 5 seconds I might not have. Your grav itself will kill rocket bots, they're really squishy. But at the end of Agent there's training bots that you can either explode, drop with your grav, or both.

Hero Mastery is basically speedrun mode. I think Agent is tougher than Veteran to get a good score on because you have to be *perfect*. Veteran gives you more permission to make mistakes but if you land every shot the first time you can get to the exit with 30+ seconds on your clock. I haven't been able to get to the exit in Agent with more than 15-20, which I spend to get the rest of the emblems in the last room.

Okay this is all I can think of for now but I hope it helps. Show me your scores!! (I'll have replay codes later but I might not be able to record/save them on this pc. And they won't be good by Tuesday. lol But I'll still share them.)

[a-land-lacking-sleep]

Electric Trains are the Future Chapter 10: An Unexpected Disruption

Previous Chapter (9) - Current Chapter - Next Chapter (11)

We hit the angsty part today, sorry. Well, next chapter is the angst, this chapter is the catalyst. But for now, we send the group to go find a new village! We're ramping up for the climax of the first part, and then we're on to new pastures!

Chapter Summary: Jubilife needs to expand with all of the incoming immigrants, and Ingo and Akari are the right people for the job! Chapter Word Count: 4848 Chapter Warnings: Major Character Injury (Skip from the blue text to the next linebreak)

As always, read here or on AO3 with additional notes! Reblogs and comments are always appreciated.

-

13 Weeks since Elesa’s Disappearance

“Sorry, Uncle, but it seems that Solgaleo can’t get a lead on it,” Elio says, stroking the fur on their giant lion before feeding it a malasada. “He can feel that a Wormhole was here, yeah, but he can’t really get anything else.”

Emmet is standing with Elio and Volo down Tunnel 3 in the Nimbasa Subway System, in the approximate location where Ingo had disappeared during an inspection. Emmet clearly remembers what had happened. Several Depot Agents had seen figures of Pokemon rushing out of the way of trains in Tunnels 3 and 4, and once they were able to shut the lines down, Ingo and Emmet had split up to check each tunnel.

Ingo never came back. Emmet had found a small purple Pokemon, incredibly injured from when it had been clipped by a train. When he described it to Elio, the young Champion had exclaimed it must’ve been a Poipole. Emmet had cared for the Pokemon for a time before it suddenly disappeared.

Just like Ingo.

“Uncle?” Elio’s voice snaps Emmet out of his reminiscence, and he turns to face Elio. “Are you ok?”

“I am Emmet. I was thinking. I am fine, yup,” Emmet says, his smile looking verrrrrry tired, but still real. “This is where Ingo disappeared. An Ultra Wormhole makes sense.” He nods, and looks over as Volo clears his throat.

“Since we didn’t get any leads, should we get going?” He was back in his baggy blue hoodie, hands buried into the pockets. “We did make plans to talk with Cynthia.” The ‘old’ man began to tap his foot and look around the group. “And I really don’t like how these tunnels feel. I feel like I’m being watched.”

“Yes,” Emmet says, turning and beginning to walk down the tunnel, back towards the Subway terminal. “We should get going.”

—

16 Weeks since Elesa’s Arrival

The sun in the coastlands was brutal now that summer was beginning to roll in. With how bitterly cold the winters got, and how the Icelands stayed under a constant sheet of ice, one would expect cooler summers. But Ingo was a Unovan. He lived just as far north there as he did here, and he knows how hot the streets can get in the height of summer.

Elesa and Miss Akari, meanwhile, managed the heat by wearing lighter clothing for the expedition. Miss Akari had changed into the pajama shirt she’d worn when she first arrived and wore thinner pants that covered her legs, and Elesa had modified yet another uniform to be thinner with removed sleeves, and shortened her pants to capri length. Ingo refused to remove his coat and hat, though he had the sense to remove his Pearl Clan tunic. If they came across Palina, he was sure she’d understand.

“So, game plan!” Miss Akari says, putting a map of the Coastlands down on the table for both adults to see. “Kamado and Sanqua want us to find the best place to build an additional settlement for the Galaxy Expedition Team. We’ve been getting a lot of new incomers, and Jubilife is almost full!” The girl smiles and nods, satisfied with her explanation.

“We also need to remember to plot our course around Pearl and Diamond Clan lands,” Ingo says, picking up the fountain pen that he had haggled from Ginter, and circling the upper cliffs of the bay, and the area around Aipom Hill. “If we put tracks on these lands, we not only break the treaties, but risk discontent. The Clans and Jubilife are allies and on good terms, but if we accidentally start an invasion, then we have forgotten about safety checks and gone into a dangerous tunnel.”

Elesa swats his shoulder softly, drawing his look. “We’re not going to start anything, you Worry Seed! I don’t think Akari is that dumb!” She very much leaves the implication that Akari is dumb enough for other things unsaid.

Akari, thankfully, didn’t catch on, and motioned for the pen from Ingo. “Yeah, I’m not gonna start nothin’,” she says, circling the area at the end of the bottom hook of the bay, where the sand spreads out like a hand. “We already have a base camp here at Sand’s Reach, and it’s far enough from where Basculegion usually rests that it shouldn’t be an issue.”

The trio look at the map for a few moments, plotting the various courses there. Eventually, Ingo speaks up. “Though we already do now, we would have to route freight lines for the settlement through Aipom Hill itself, most likely right where Iscan lives.” He reaches over and grabs a pencil this time, marking the path of least resistance from the beach of Gingko Landing to Sand’s Reach. “While I’m sure he will be fine with us simply having a route past his house, it might cause a logistical problem down the line.”

“What?” Akari looks at the map intensely for a few moments, then shakes her head. “They don’t need to go that close to the cliffs, Uncle Ingo! There’s other ways through that pass!” She grabs the pencil as soon as Ingo sets it down, and amends his route to cut north of the pass, right over the mountains.

Elesa sighs as Ingo carries on. “Miss Akari, you forget that you and I have the ease of Lady Sneasler’s help. Even with her, we make only a two-car train. But if we need to build and supply a new village,” he smudges the line that she had made, then taps his original route, “then we have a freight train and must go through the pass. We can check the route again today, but we would need to discuss the plans with Adaman and Iscan to be sure.”

Miss Akari crosses her arms and huffs, knowing that Ingo was right but not wanting to admit it. Ingo, meanwhile, was proud of himself. Once Kamado and Sanqua had learned that Ingo was the head of transportation for a region the size of Unova, they had asked him to help with the planning of the next settlement. Someone with such expertise in planning trade routes and roads for moving people was invaluable, and the Galaxy Team was not going to pass it up.

The silence is broken when Elesa taps a spot on the map, a lake across from Firespit Island. “What about here? Would this be a suitable place for the village, if we can find a way through the mountain?” Labeled under the name ‘Spring Path’, the lake was isolated from everywhere else unless they took a boat all the way around the Veilstone Cape. But in a straight line from where the trio were now, they would entirely avoid dealing with the Pearl Clan land that stretched down Veilstone and the Castaway Shore, as well as the area directly around Firespit.

Ingo and Miss Akari look up at each other, both trying to communicate silently. How steep were the cliffs? Was there a shallower part to take carts? Maybe a small cave system that could be extended, and kept lit so that Zubat didn’t infest it? Were there any Alpha nearby that they would need to try and coax into relocating?

After a few moments of silently debating it between each other and alone, Miss Akari takes the pen and circles the lake. “This might work. I haven’t gone up here much, so I don’t have the best idea of what we need to do. But,” swapping the pen for the pencil, she circles the area of the cliffs that separate the lake from the main area of the Coastland, “if we can find a way through here, it’s viable.” 

Ingo looks at the map to think of ways around Akari’s conundrum, and eventually he shrugs. Dancing in excitement of her victory, Akari rolls up the map and puts it away before pulling out her Arcphone and opening the map app on it. “So, this one doesn’t show any more detail at all. But I can have it track my movement so that it plots a path for us!” She holds her finger on the screen and puts a pin. “There, it’ll track us now!”

“Then let’s hope we don’t have to go up and down cliffs, Akari,” Elesa says, ruffling the teenager’s hair as she starts walking down towards the beach. “But no use worrying about that until we get there. Might as well use the thing to route a way around the Alpha nests, no?”

The group carefully makes tracks through the Coastland, keeping off the sand itself to keep the path as straight as possible. The Alpha Walrein that normally rests on the coast north of the cliffs had decided to come visit the main coastline with their children, which Ingo made sure to note down as a potential obstacle to future routing. 

To say nothing of the normal Alpha Drapion, whose Skorupi minions caught wind of the trio as they passed by, even with the wide berth. Ingo didn’t miss the larger Pokemon trudge towards the edge of its territory. Nor did he miss the fact that it trailed their movement as they skirted around the Pokemon’s nesting area. 

Just from those two brief encounters, Ingo was second guessing this potential location. With this many Alphas nearby, most traders wouldn’t want to take the route, even with easy tracks for them to follow, let alone villagers with little protection. Gripping the brim of his cap, he looks down towards the ground as he walks, thinking to himself. They’ve stuck to the cliffs to the west of the area, barely staying in sight of these Alphas, yet the fact that they had to worry about them meant that they would have to worry about them again in the future.

Eventually though, Akari pops her hand up, her phone screen lit up. “We’re at the point!” She puts her hands to her hips triumphantly and looks around expectantly, though Ingo was unsure what she was hoping to find. All he could see was a cliff.

“Akari?” Elesa asks, tapping the teen on the head. “What are you Seaking? Cause I’m not seeing much of a path.” Ingo had to agree with her, there wasn’t much of a path at all. He knew to the east was a path up the cliffs towards Veilstone Cape, and eventually to Lord Arcanine’s grave. But that went in the opposite direction, and was decidedly in Pearl Clan territory.

Miss Akari crosses her arms and looks out east anyway. “We could see if there’s a place on the path that way that could either be workable, or maybe carved into a path with Pokemon?” It seems that Miss Akari had already given up on the idea of using this as a way to keep out of Clan territory, and she didn’t even sound too sure of it herself. 

Ingo opens his mouth to speak, but Elesa cuts him off. “That could be the case,” she says, walking past Miss Akari while tapping her chin. “How about this, Skiddo. I’ll go check that path for places we can use, and you two,” she pauses, pointing at Ingo and Miss Akari before pointing up the cliff and continuing, “can HM08 your way up the cliff and look for a way down on the other side.”

Ingo frowns, not that there is much of an outwardly difference. “I am not sure that’s the track to go with, Elesa. Honestly, that proves that this route is unsustainable for travel if we are needing to make concessions before construction begins. Always remember your safety checks, as Emmet would say.”

“And safety checks are why I’m having you two check up there,” Elesa says, gesturing to the cliff face again. “Sticking to the path down here isn’t too rough, so I can Gogoat around with ease!” She pops a cute little pose, putting her hand on her hip and popping it to the side while flashing a peace sign up by her face. Ingo had to struggle not to laugh at her joke, since he was trying to prove a point of not approving of the plan. 

But before the point could be argued, the pair were surprised by Akari blowing two loud notes from her Celestica Flute, then looking at the pair with a smile. “Sneasler’s on her way!” Elesa pumps her fists in excitement while Ingo just gives her a flat look.

“Fine,” Ingo says, pulling his cap down a bit to cover his eyes. “Once my Lady arrives, we can depart from this station.” Miss Akari dances in place in joy, then high fives Elesa. Ingo stews, having been betrayed by not only his adoptive niece, but by his own girlfriend. 

After a few minutes, Lady Sneasler climbs down the cliff that Ingo and Akari were about to scale. Elesa waves as she turns to head off, and Miss Akari climbs up into Lady Sneasler’s riding basket. “Now, my Lady,” Ingo says as he walks toward the cliff with his hands behind his back, “we’re planning on checking if the cliffs on the other side are conducive to regular travel.” Sneasler has a look of realization across her face, then nods enthusiastically. “I know that you would be able to traverse it easily, so Miss Akari and I need to check for ease of human travel.” 

Sneasler rolls her eyes and points at Ingo. “Snea?” Ingo just nods, and she shrugs before starting her way up the cliff. Adorably, Miss Akari sticks her arm out and waves at Ingo now that the basket is facing him, and Ingo waves back, his eyes crinkling slightly in his own kind of smile. Once Lady Sneasler gets a good distance up, her claws easily digging into and gripping the stone, Ingo begins to climb, finding the best path of handholds and footholds that he could.

The climb up looks like it will be easy, with plenty of handholds in view already, though it would take some time to actually traverse, giving Ingo the time to think. Since Elesa arrived, Unova not only had a name in his mind, but it was actually a real place to return to. Elesa would definitely go home, she’s talked about it a few times since she’s been here, and he thinks she may be getting homesick with how he’s been catching her looking at her Xtransciever.

Ingo missed Unova as well. He missed his mother Eiko in Anville; he missed his uncle Drayden and cousin Iris in Opelucid; he missed the sound of the Subway running down the tunnels as he would rest between battles. He missed his daily life with Emmet, and their teams, all 14 Pokemon and two humans in one house, existing together.

But can they even go back? Ingo remembers a few days after Elesa arrived, Miss Akari had admitted that she probably wouldn’t be able to send her or Ingo back. The fabric of time-space was still weak, and Dialga and Palkia were apparently refusing to do anything like that again. She said she had another plan, but nothing came up after that. Ingo wasn’t sure if the plan was being worked on or not, but the young girl had thrown herself into the Pokedex soon after.

And can Ingo even go back? He’s a Warden, an important member of the Pearl Clan, even if he doesn’t spend too much time around the Clan as a whole because of his duties and the general discomfort that the others felt with his origins. And in Jubilife, he was expected to conduct the Galaxy Team and various villagers in battling, teaching them how Pokemon battles work and how to properly care for them. He also had friends among the Wardens and Leaders, and each attachment was beginning to feel like a chain.

Ah, he has reached his destination. Ingo pulls himself up over the cliff’s edge, nodding to Miss Akari and Lady Sneasler, who were chatting as they waited for him. Even after 2 years of climbing the cliffs alongside her, Ingo could never match Lady Sneasler’s speed. “I have arrived at the station,” he calls out to grab their attention, gripping his hat.

Miss Akari jumps over to him and points away from the cliff, in the general direction of their destination. “Then we’re set! Let’s go check out the path!” Without a moment’s more wait, she starts moving. Lady Sneasler takes a moment to look back at Ingo, as if asking if she should follow, and all Ingo can do is shrug before following himself. 

After a few minutes of walking through what was honestly a calm route, Ingo speaks up. “So, Miss Akari, I do feel the need to ask.” Once he’s sure that the girl is listening, he continues. “Just as you don’t know the stations and towns in Unova, I don’t know those in Sinnoh. Is there actually a town here in your time?”

Miss Akari chews her bottom lip in thought for a moment before answering Ingo’s question, which he took as a sign that his suspicions were right. “Really, I’m not sure. Veilstone is supposed to be in this area, but the coastline is really different.” She pouts and puffs her cheeks out slightly. “I feel like the cape that Arcanine is buried on has either eroded or was taken down somehow, ‘cause that is not there back home.”

Ingo brings his hand from his cap and strokes his beard in thought. “That is a lot of stone to remove in a century and a half.”

“It’s a big change, yeah…” Akari says with a sigh. “Not only that, but Eterna, Oreburgh, and Floaroma seem to be in different places if their names are in the right spots, and Jubilife is Canalave in our time. I could’ve missed that sort of thing in school, but it feels wrong”

“If it helps, there are historical references to my position in this era,” Ingo says quickly, hoping to stop Akari from a potential spiral. “It was a joke my brother and I would share, so if we are indeed from the same 2022, then this is indeed the past of your region.” They walked silently for a few moments before he continued down similar tracks.

“Have you made any progress on returning us to our original homes?” Ingo had stayed behind by a pace or two while they walked, so he was able to see Akari stop in her spot, and so he stopped as well to let her think.

After a moment, Akari pulls out her Pokedex and turns to show him the filled out page for Munchlax. “I caught my last Pokemon yesterday morning. My Pokedex is complete, outside of one page that I think is… The Pokemon that sent me here.” She’d mentioned this Pokemon before, a deity from her region supposedly. She puts the Pokedex away and steps over, pulling out the phone that she had with her. “The page appeared after I got this text.”

Come to the Temple of Sinnoh for your final test.

“According to Arceus,” Akari says with a grimace at acknowledging who she thinks brought her here, “I should be going to the Highlands to see Him.” She sighs and puts the phone to her mouth, biting the small protrusion on the top before leaning against Ingo. “I was afraid to go, and leave you two behind. And not get to tell people good-bye.”

Ah, Ingo could see the problem. She was worried about the same thing he was, having put roots into Hisui, only to rip them up. “I miss home, Uncle Ingo,” she says softly, staying leaned up against his arm. “I miss my mom, I miss Auntie Cynthia, I miss Lucas and Barry. But I’m also scared to leave here, ‘cause I’ll miss everyone, like Rei, Irida, Adaman, Laventon…”

Ingo lets her linger for a second as he thinks. Akari had begun to feel truly at home, which makes sense. She’s still a child, in the bigger picture, and despite the trials she went through here with Volo causing the rifts and Kamado’s less than stellar reactions to disaster, she’d found a place to be comfortable. She had adults to rely on, a friend her age to spend time with, Pokemon to bond to. He could see her dilemma quite clearly.

Sighing, Ingo reaches up and takes his hat off, then plops it down onto Akari’s head. As she looks at him with a soft giggle, he points a finger upwards while keeping her left arm behind his back. “Follow the rules. Safe driving!” He steps back and points at her. “Follow the schedule. Now, everybody smile!” He pauses briefly to let her smile, before asking softly, “Have you checked safety?” 

Giggling through a smile now, Akari nods and mimics his current stance, putting her left hand up and her right behind her back. She’s been through this before. Even before Ingo remembered his past, he’d remembered this phrase, and often used it to help cheer her up during rough days. “Everything’s ready!” They both click their feet together and spin to face their path, pointing outwards before shouting “ALL ABOARD!”

Akari struggles to not fall into a giggle fit, and Ingo smiles at her, a genuine soft smile, before snatching his hat back. Akari immediately tries to grab it back while he holds it high above her head. “You can have a hat when you are a depot agent, young lady.”

“Fine then,” Akari says with a huff, crossing her arms and facing away. “I’ll be a depot agent, and fight so well that I’ll replace you in the Single Lines!” The both share a laugh, Ingo’s echoing off of the cliffs around them and nearly covering Akari’s entirely. After they calm down, Akari bumps her shoulder against Ingo and points at the cliff ahead. “We’re here!”

The pair approach the cliff and look over the landscape below. It’s nearly a sheer drop from their position, with the need of either Pokemon assistance in this time period, or machine-made paths in their time. Looking down, Ingo could see several swarms of Mothim in the area, including two Alphas actively engaged in a territory dispute. He lets the silence hang for a moment before gripping his hat. “This line is a bust, Miss Akari.”

His teenage passenger stays silent a moment longer before pointing over at the raised rock formation in the center of the area. “Well, there’s the lake. I recognize this area,” she says, her shoulders slumping. “It’s where I caught Giratina. There’s a cave on the water inside of the crater.” She kicks a rock by her foot, launching it over the edge of the cliff in front of them and tumbling down. “I came by the water last time, so I forgot it was this area…”

As the girl starts to wallow, Ingo pats her shoulder. “It’s fine, Miss Akari. Even if this line did not lead to a station, it is still information to use for future expeditions.” He watches her look out at the area below them and then pick herself back up. “Now, let us reverse course and return to our previous station. We shouldn’t keep Elesa waiting.”

“Yeah, don’t wanna keep Auntie held up much longer,” Akari says with a half-hearted grin, turning around on her heel and starting back towards the far cliff they had climbed. The way she swung her arms mirrors how Emmet had always walked when he got excited, swinging like the stiff arms of a toy soldier or nutcracker. “Besides, it’s not all bad, we got some exercise!”

“We get exercise daily, Miss Akari,” Ingo says, laughing as he falls in line with Lady Sneasler. “We could’ve used this time to prepare the route to the base camp and discuss plans with Iscan.” He didn’t want to rain on her parade entirely, but she had delayed their course pretty heavily.

“Oh, it’ll be fine.” Akari waves her hand in dismissal. “I know for a fact that the camp becomes a city in Sinnoh. It’s Sunyshore, the last city before the Elite Four.” She spreads her arms wide like she’s showing Ingo a floating image of the town. “A few buildings built on the shore, with raised platforms of solar panels that you can walk on to access the Lighthouse or Volkner’s Electric-type Gym.” She turns around and walks backwards so she can shoot finger guns at Ingo. “Pretty sweet, yeah?”

“So it was the correct choice, and this was a whim.” Again, Ingo didn’t want to actively rain on her parade, but this was absurd. They had spent almost two hours on this diversion, and it was completely unneeded. All it had done was send Akari’s mental state into disarray thinking she had been derailed so heavily that her future didn’t exist here for a brief moment.

“Well, kinda, yeah,” Akari says, visibly deflating and turning back around. “I was thinking we could find a place for Veilstone, but yeah, this was… This was kinda useless. Sorry.” Lady Sneasler shoots Ingo a tired look, basically reading as You don’t know how to talk to kids, and trots to catch up to the teenager, licking at her hair. “Hey! Sneasler! My hair is fine, I don’t need to be groomed!”

Ingo breathes in deeply and sighs before stopping next to the two parked girls. “I was not trying to imply that you made a worthless decision, Miss Akari.” Normally, he was the one to put out the bad news to an employee at work, as Emmet was far too blunt for his own good or Cameron’s self-esteem, but with the girl who genuinely saw him as an uncle figure, he was struggling. “Simply that this would’ve been better done by checking here after we had set up the other line. We’ve lost daylight, yes, but not the way.” He pauses for a moment, trying to think of how to wrap this up, though Akari cuts him off instead.

“You’re good, Uncle Ingo,” she says, reaching out to gently shove him. “It just sucks being wrong, y’know? Especially when it normally works ou-” Akari pauses suddenly, her brows furrowing and her head snapping towards the cliffs that they were approaching. “Do you hear battling, Uncle?”

That sets off alarms in Ingo’s head, and he tilts his head to listen closer. He hears the Growlithe in the distance running through the trees, the occasional Staravia or Chatot flying by, but beneath it, yes, he can hear a battle. There was a pattern to it, and then what sounded like a burst from a generator. Elesa was battling something.

“She needs our help,” Ingo says, immediately making for the cliff and looking down to see his partner fighting off the Alpha Drapion from earlier. It had seemed interested, and apparently enough so to leave its nesting area to investigate what they were doing. Looking back, he calls to Akari, “She’s fighting an Alpha, we should move to assist! All aboard!”

He turns back as Akari starts scrambling into Lady Sneasler’s basket, and kneels down to look for a foothold on the cliff face. Seeing one, he plants his hand and pivots, briefly hanging off a loose grip before his foot lands on the hold, and then he braces himself. A hurried Lady Sneasler comes over the cliff’s edge now, turning in midair to sink her claws into the stone, and quickly makes her way down the cliff.

Ingo moves fast to keep pace, moving from handhold to handhold, foothold to foothold in practiced motions. Release my hands here, plant my feet here, grip my hand here. Release here, plant here, grip here. Release, plant, grip.

Cool your engines, Ingo! Remember your safety checks! Is everything ready?

Before he can react, the small ledge where Ingo had planted his foot crumbles under his full weight, not only leaving him with no support from below, but also causing gravity to tear his fingers from the stone they were clutching. 

It’s a short fall to the next ledge, his extended right leg meeting it full force, and he can feel the bone snap, the pain nearly causing him to black out. He falls backwards, twisting to try and catch himself, his head barely missing the edge as he free falls for a moment. He swears he hears Akari and Sneasler, but he can’t focus to hear as the ground is now rapidly approaching him. Tuck and roll enters his mind, but he can’t get his body to respond, still twisting itself to try and right itself.

His shoulder connects with the ground, the bone snapping audibly before his head hits next. His flip completes as he slides across the ground on his back, and finally blacks out.

—

In Sinnoh, 16 weeks after Elesa had disappeared into a space-time distortion, Emmet falls to the forest floor and lets out a loud scream as he clasps his left arm.

[picfac]

Becoming an Indian Male Model: A Step-by-Step Guide to Success.

How to Become an Indian Male Model: A Comprehensive Guide Introduction Becoming a male model in India is a dream shared by many young men who aspire to enter the glamorous world of fashion, movies, and advertisements. This career offers opportunities to work with top designers, feature in renowned magazines, and walk the ramps of prestigious fashion shows. However, the journey to becoming a successful male model involves more than just good looks. It requires dedication, the right knowledge, and a strategic approach. This guide outlines the essential steps and tips to help you embark on a modeling career in India.

Understand the Industry Before diving into the world of modeling, it's crucial to understand the industry. Modeling is a competitive field that demands professionalism, versatility, and resilience. Research the different types of modeling—such as fashion, commercial, fitness, and runway—to determine which area suits your look and interests best. Understanding the expectations and standards of the industry will help you prepare better.

Physical Fitness and Grooming Maintaining a fit and healthy body is essential for modeling. Regular exercise, a balanced diet, and proper skincare routines are crucial. Models often need to meet certain physical criteria, such as height and body proportions, especially for runway modeling in Delhi. Here are some grooming tips:

Skincare: Develop a skincare routine to maintain clear and healthy skin. Haircare: Keep your hair well-groomed and styled according to current trends. Fitness: Engage in regular workouts to build a toned and muscular physique. Diet: Follow a balanced diet rich in proteins, vitamins, and minerals.

Build a Strong Portfolio A modeling portfolio is your professional resume. It showcases your best photos and demonstrates your versatility as a model. To build a strong portfolio:

Hire a Professional Photographer in Delhi: Invest in a professional photographer who can capture high-quality images. Diverse Looks: Include a variety of looks, from casual and formal to fitness and ethnic wear. Natural Shots: Incorporate both studio shots and natural outdoor photos. Minimal Retouching: Ensure the photos reflect your natural appearance with minimal retouching.

Take Professional Training Enrolling in a modeling course or workshop can provide you with the necessary skills and knowledge. Professional training helps you learn:

Posing Techniques: How to pose naturally and effectively for different types of shoots. Runway Walk: Mastering the catwalk and learning to carry yourself with confidence. Industry Etiquette: Understanding the professional behavior expected in the industry. Self-Presentation: How to present yourself during auditions and casting calls.

Network and Connect Building a network within the fashion industry is vital for your success. Attend fashion shows, industry events, and networking parties to meet photographers, designers, agents, and other models. Use social media platforms like Instagram and LinkedIn to connect with industry professionals. A robust network can lead to new prospects and offer insightful information about the sector.

Approach Modeling Agencies Modeling agencies play a crucial role in a model's career by providing guidance, managing bookings, and connecting models with clients. Look for trustworthy organizations and send them your portfolio. When contacting these organizations:

Research: Look for agencies with a good reputation and a successful track record. Submission Guidelines: Follow their submission guidelines carefully, usually available on their websites. Professionalism: Present yourself professionally during meetings and interviews. Scams: Be cautious of scams and agencies that ask for money upfront.

Auditions and Casting Calls Participating in auditions and casting calls is an integral part of a model's journey. Stay updated on casting calls through agency notifications, online platforms, and social media. Here are some tips for auditions:

Preparation: Research the brand or designer you are auditioning for and prepare accordingly. Confidence: Walk in with confidence and showcase your best self. Versatility: Be ready to adapt to different roles and looks as required by the casting directors. Recommendation: Take constructive criticism well and use it to your work.

Develop Your Brand In the age of social media, developing a personal brand is crucial. Your online presence can significantly impact your career. Here’s how to build your brand:

Social Media: Regularly update your social media profiles with professional photos and engaging content. Website: Create a personal website to showcase your portfolio, resume, and contact information. Content: Share behind-the-scenes glimpses, fitness routines, and fashion tips to engage your audience. Consistency: Maintain a consistent style and voice across all platforms.

Maintain Professionalism Professionalism is key to sustaining a long-term career in modeling. Here are some aspects to focus on:

Punctuality: Always be on time for shoots, auditions, and meetings. Reliability: Be dependable and fulfill your commitments. Attitude: Maintain a positive and cooperative attitude during work. Contracts: Understand and honor your contracts with agencies and clients.

Persevere and Stay Motivated The path to becoming a successful model can be challenging and requires perseverance. Rejection is a part of the process, and staying motivated is crucial. Surround yourself with a supportive network, set realistic goals, and continuously work on improving your skills.

Conclusion

Becoming a male model in India is an exciting and rewarding journey that requires dedication, preparation, and a strategic approach. By understanding the industry, maintaining physical fitness, building a strong portfolio, seeking professional training, networking, approaching reputable agencies, participating in auditions, developing a personal brand, maintaining professionalism, and persevering through challenges, you can carve out a successful modeling career. Embrace the process, stay committed to your goals, and step confidently into the world of modeling.

To know more Kindly visit ThePictureFactory

[cyanocoraxx]

Fire In The Sky (Chapter 2)

Metal Sonic / Silver Sonic MK II / Mecha Sonic / Shadow

Fire cared not for the time it went out, only that it gave heat and light. A burn that says - I was here. This is who I am. In setting everything ablaze, perhaps only the ashes would tell them who they really were, that they really lived. (Shadow the Hedgehog 2005 adaptation. Continuation of Damage.)

A fire is only on its best behaviour in a bed of iron. Yet, should the wind call upon its spark, should earth call for its burn, should ice call for its heat - fire takes the leap. It is in its nature.

"The Day of Reckoning, huh? Well then, time to go fulfill this promise."

Shadow leaped from a skyscraper and began plummeting toward the unforgiving roads below. With calm and poise, he came in for a landing and fell neatly on both feet. Directly ahead, the road broke into a ramp and he skated with confidence straight toward it. Once he gained speed, it was over for anyone who stood in his way. Landing square on his feet one more time, the black and red hedgehog took off pushing ninety down the ravaged streets of Westopolis.

Fast, furious, and out of control. This was the essence of intensity. Shadow was the embodiment of speed, the epitome of conviction. He was now running one hundred miles per hour straight down a highway to Hell, with quaking soldiers at his front and broken bodies at his back. Those who dared to challenge him snapped at his heels, but he took no allegiances - not yet. Some mistook him for Sonic, but he did not care. Shadow had his own agenda, his own mission, and if Sonic got tied in along the way, then tough. Not Shadow's problem.

At a roadblock, Shadow came skidding to a halt. He looked up sharply to find a Black Arms Warrior training their weapon on him. The barrel pointed in his direction-

But he was already gone.

Shadow was not just moving at the speed of sound, but thinking at it, too. When a Warrior took aim, Shadow had already moved on. By the time someone fired, Shadow had already leaped. And then, as the plasma fired at where he had once stood, Shadow broke into a homing strike and smacked his victim in the back of the head. He took the soldier's gun and moved on before their unconscious body hit the ground.

In not choosing sides, he had inadvertently taken a side here - the side of the humans. He ignored the GUN agents, for they did not target him yet. Would the alien leader be pleased with this? Likely not. But again, not his problem right now. Like fire, he was drawn to his ignition source. Like fire, he left a path of destruction and focus in his wake.

Shadow trained his mind on the pull of the Chaos Emeralds, his fur bristling unconsciously the closer he drew to them. Almost immediately, he located the first Emerald within a crate. He took no note of its colour, for it was not important. All that mattered was securing all seven to uncover the secrets of his past. Speaking of colour, though, he did briefly notice a flash of blue up ahead. Coming straight towards him.

Sonic the goddamn hedgehog. He slid to a halt ahead of Shadow and waved a greeting. Grit and ash sprayed from his soles and stained his fur, which had now long lost its pristine cobalt sheen. He had clearly been busy here too.

"Hey, Shadow! Long time no see! Looks like these creatures really mean business!"

Of course, the blue menace who appeared to know him closely would be on ground zero. Shadow paid him little mind and skated on ahead. Again, nobody else would influence his decisions or path. This was his journey to decide alone. Other people would do best to leave him be. Why couldn't everyone just leave him be?

"Shadow! Come on, buddy! We gotta take these guys down, together!" Sonic called out from behind him, sounding a little disheartened. The Shadow he knew was closed off, yes, but not to this level. In some private part of his heart, it did hurt. Just enough to leave a small waver in his voice.

"Leave me be, faker." Shadow hissed through gritted teeth.

Shadow pinned his ears at the sound of the hedgehog's grating voice drawing closer to him. The hedgehog's persistence was insufferable, from what he had experienced and what little he remembered. Shadow pushed on, crouching low in a high-speed skating glide. To himself, he began murmuring his thoughts aloud. He had to remain focused.

"Black Doom claims to have knowledge of my past. He claims that I had promised to deliver the seven Chaos Emeralds to him. I don't know if that's true or not, but he's the only one I can trust for clues about my past."

Shadow darted over a stack of crates used to block a road and pressed on, leaving the hedgehog in the dust. If he wanted to be a hero here, that was his prerogative, not Shadow's.

"The truth is hidden in my memories. But I don't know what I can trust about what I think I know. However, since this all started, something has begun to stir inside of me..."

The hedgehog was brought out of his momentary haze by a familiar form appearing in front of him. He did not stop and instead only slowed down a fraction, instead keeping his focus trained on what was ahead. Doom's Eye, the strangely star-shaped extension of the Black Arms leader, proceeded to follow him. Just how fast was this thing? It was keeping up with Shadow pushing fifty already.

"Shadow. My Eye will watch over you as you dispose of these soldiers. Complete the mission, and deliver the Emeralds as promised."

Now Doom was giving him orders? Just like everyone else here. Typical. Shadow grumbled an unintelligible reply and broke back into a high-speed run. He soon found out just how fast Doom's Eye was, and it wasn't fast enough to pursue him at over one hundred. Perfect. A Warrior here and a Warrior there to clear his path ahead, he paid little mind to the numbers. Before he knew it, he had reached the end of the streets and was drawn straight to the blue Chaos Emerald. Perfect. Only then did he allow himself a sigh of relief as he shook the adrenaline and intensity from his body.

So, with the blue Emerald now in hand, Shadow slowed to a walk to allow his body to recuperate. The rejuvenating energy of Chaos quickly began to course through his veins. He and Chaos Energy were one, synergistic when they needed to be. And just when he thought he finally had some time alone, his apparent savior rose from the ground in a ripple of distortion. Shadow paused momentarily, expecting Doom to offer some praise or at least confirmation that he was closer to uncovering his past. Instead, he was quickly scolded.

"You've deliberately disobeyed me, Shadow." Doom reprimanded him. He loomed over the hedgehog with an ominous presence, casting darkness over the smaller form.

Shadow continued to walk on, paying him little mind. "No one tells me what to do. I have my own reasons for doing this."

"You really don't understand the situation here, do you... perhaps, Professor Gerald has done more to your memories than I thought."

Shadow paused with a slight flinch at the mention of a seemingly familiar name. He slowly turned around, eyes trailing up to meet Doom's. "The Professor?"

Doom advanced on him. An opening to manipulate the amnesiac with. "Hmm. It is strange that you don't remember your maker, Shadow."

Shadow's ears perked. A crumb of information. Desperation. A pit in his stomach. "What did you say? My maker?"

Doom pointed an accusing finger at the hedgehog with a growl, snatching back that single crumb with disgust. "Silence! The ramifications of your disobedience will be severe, Shadow."

What? Shadow grit his teeth at the unfair refusal. He wanted to speak his mind, but doing so may only drive him further from finding out who he truly was. It was a terrible conflict to be in - the heart wanting to scream and shout, the mind silencing it. Unknown to him, his hackles bristled, tipped with subtle gold. The Chaos energy in him coursed like blood, and his blood was quickly boiling.

In the distance, Sonic drew closer toward them. He ran as quickly as he could without breaking the sound barrier, ignoring the slight burn in his feet, stretched out a hand-

"Shadow! Wait! Wait a sec!"

Doom turned to see Sonic approaching and decided to send Shadow away, lest he become corrupted by the falsehoods this "hero" might plant in his head. Then, Shadow was gone - a flash of white and unintelligible colours sent him packing to a whole other location. By the time Sonic made it, there was no trace of his friend.

Too slow.

"Hey! You! Where did you send him?!" Sonic demanded to know with a clenched fist.

"He must be punished for his disobedience," Doom answered simply, "as do you. Your time shall come, hero. But for now, there are more important things I must attend to."

Sonic pinned his ears and stepped toward him. "I need to know where he is! He's my friend!"

Doom's disgust was tangible. "Out of my sight, pesky creature."

A single swat of his arm sent Sonic tumbling backward with a crack of his head, and his world went dark.

Neo found himself in the crosshairs of thirty angry Warriors. Inside a ravaged building, he worked to clear out somebody's once-home.

He smirked internally. His HUD cycled to a green overlay with targeting reticles around the aliens' weapons. Before he even needed to think, his body responded as it was trained to and coiled into a killer spin-dash. He struck a pistol, shattering it and causing it to splatter the superheated contents of its cartridge. With his task complete Neo bounded back out of the building with his armour smoking. In one hand, he carried a weapon stolen from the aliens. Without missing a beat he tossed the newly-acquired plasma pistol to Silver, who caught it in one hand with expert precision.

Silver grinned as he studied the new weapon. No trigger, no problem. Leaning into his mechanical side, Silver allowed his scanners do to the work as he turned the pistol over. It was smooth, specially designed to fit the three-fingered hands of the Black Arms. His HUD centered in on a square-shaped panel halfway up the barrel. Upon pressing it, boiling hot plasma shot at the wall beside him, where it left a crater.

"Bang."

"Excellent observation, brother. Now, do exercise a degree of caution when you wield these weapons. They are unlike the technology we possess on this planet."

"The pink is a nice touch, but it fits you better, M," Silver murmured, smoothing a hand over the barrel of the gun and its pink lighting.

Mecha shook her head. "Negative. I do not require nor desire the use of alien weaponry at this time. I am functioning at full capacity."

"Your loss, big bro. I'm keepin' this one," Silver replied with a shrug, "and I think it has about ten shots left in it. There seems to be a cap to the number of times it can be used, judging by the, uh... power source thingy in it that my scanners can't make sense of-"

Something in the scanners he couldn't make sense of.

Neo suddenly stood rigid and looked to the right, optics bright and fixed. A common response to a threat. Silver and Mecha regarded him with confusion - he had clearly detected something that they had not. But their scanners were up to date, and Silver's were more advanced than his... and then Neo was off, leaving them further baffled by his behaviour.

Silver looked from Neo to Mecha several times. "Bro! Come back, what's wrong?! Mecha, what's up with him?"

Mecha remained calm. "I am uncertain. So, let us proceed after them."

Neo charged through the winding city streets in a surge of panic. All rational thought abandoned him, as did the control over his limbs. His jet engine kicked into gear and sent him blasting down the final stretch toward his destination. Estimated time of arrival: five seconds, three seconds, zero point one...

Sonic lifted his head to find his robotic double standing over him. Laying prone on the ground, Sonic was an open target. The machine's armour was dark, shadowed by the harsh lighting of fire surrounding them, and his sharp killer claws glinted in the backlight. A sight that would have once gotten Sonic fired up to fight, matching the burning of the robot's optics with his own internal flame - but now, it only brought him relief. He quietly laughed and let his head drop back down to the asphalt.

"Oh, hey, little bro! Small world, huh? What are you doing out here in the middle of this?" Sonic asked, his voice a little winded from nausea.

Neo crouched down by his side. His optics wandered over Sonic's form, searching for any life-threatening injuries. To his relief, he found none. It appeared he had merely suffered a brief loss of consciousness. Curse this inexplicable connection with the hedgehog! It got his wires in a twist for little reason. But, still, it was good to know he was alive and well during this chaotic time. The world could probably use a few blue heroes right about now.

"Are you functioning?" Neo asked, in code.

Sonic groaned as he sat up, rubbing his head with one hand. "Heh. I think so. Just hit my head there."

The two exchanged looks, and Neo quickly became flustered over worrying too much about his fleshy double. His internal fans had to kick in to compensate for the rise in temperature. With a slight scowl, Neo folded his arms and looked away.

"You still got a good heart, lil' bro. Thanks for checking on me, but I'm okay, really. Are you okay?"

Neo tapped his claws against his arm plating and nodded. He refrained from making some remark about lacking internal organs.

"Alright! Well, we should probably talk about this, uh... thing that's happening right now."

Neo extended a hand to Sonic, who took it graciously. Neo hoisted the blue meatbag up to his feet and went back to folding his arms.

"Yes. What data have you gathered on this invasion?"

Sonic scratched his head sheepishly. "Nooooot a lot. This alien guy seems to be following Shadow and telling him what to do. It doesn't seem like Shadow likes him very much, though. The guy told him off for disobeying him, or something."

"So the Ultimate Lifeform plays little role in the invasion right now. That is good to know."

"I can't tell whose side he's on right now. But Shadow is a good guy! I know he won't let us down." Sonic replied optimistically.

"You will be glad to know, then, that myself and my brothers have secured most of this city now. Little of it was the hedgehog's doing," Neo informed him with an air of sarcasm, "but I suppose we will go back to killing babies now, since we have an evil reputation to uphold."

"Oh, shut up, bolt brain. You're one of us now." Sonic reminded him with a nudge and a wink.

"One of you insufferable self-proclaimed heroes? Please." Neo rolled his optics and looked away.

"You saved Station Square from a giant robot, dude. All three of you risked your lives that day. That's a huge deal!"

"We are just trying to live our lives, free from harm. Silver is the one who goes around being a hero in their free time, these days." Neo recounted to him.

"Alright, well, you carry on pretending you're not a hero," Sonic flicked his doppelganger's nose and walked by him, "and I'll walk off this concussion whilst I see what else needs to be done here."

All at once, a small silver and black form barrelled into Sonic and sent him tumbling back down to the ground. Neo winced - that couldn't be good for a concussion. To his relief, Sonic yelped - a good sign he was still conscious, and wrestled his assailant to the ground under him.

Oh.

"My favourite flesh-hog! Long time no see!" Silver greeted him with a laugh. He wrapped his arms around the meatbag and pulled him close.

"Ack- easy, lil bro! I'm not made with as much metal as you are!" Sonic wheezed out, but grinned and otherwise let his little robot sibling squish him.

"On the contrary, your body contains several essential metal ions for your survival. Among these are sodium, potassium, magnesium, vanadium, chromium, manganese, iron, cobalt, nickel, copper, molybdenum, and cadmium." Mecha helpfully reminded the hedgehog as she approached from behind them.

"I'm so glad you guys are here..." Sonic breathed out once Silver released him. "Knowing what metals I'm made of during the apocalypse really helps me."

"You are injured," Mecha noted, scanning Sonic's form with mild concern, "for it appears you have sustained a mild traumatic brain injury."

"Aw, this? It's nothing. I just hit my noggin on the ground a bit too hard, nothing to worry about!" Sonic reassured him with a grin. "It happens all the time. Kinda my thing at this point."

"Indeed. Have you located Shadow recently? We are pursuing him to uncover data on the cause of this invasion." Mecha asked, shifting to stand closer to Sonic. He lifted an arm and placed it against Sonic's head, acting as a makeshift cold pack with his cool armour. Fortunately, it was still cool enough to have some effect despite the rising temperature of the city.

"Yeah, I did. He was just here. The leader of those aliens sent him somewhere." Sonic recounted, wincing a little at the temperature difference.

"My scanners detect a drop in Chaos energy in this area. It can thus be assumed that he has obtained the two Chaos Emeralds in this part of the city. What does he intend to do with their power in regard to the invasion?" Mecha asked, tilting her head.

"Your guess is as good as mine, big M. All we know is he made some promise to their leader. But... it doesn't make sense!" Sonic crouched down and cradled his cheek in one hand, trying to wrack his brain around the whole situation. "Shadow's a good guy. He wouldn't let someone else control him like that, not unless... someone is forcing him against his will, or using his amnesia against him. And GUN isn't targeting him right now, so he can't be doing anything really bad right now."

"Amnesia. That is a big word for you." Neo murmured to his side.

Sonic let an ear droop as he shot a look to his robotic counterpart. "Shut up, grumpy."

Neo snickered before continuing with something useful. "Based on the data we currently possess, I believe the leader of the aliens is manipulating him to do his bidding by promising him information on his past. I was present during their initial conversation."

"What did you say?" Silver asked, moving to crouch beside Sonic.

"Shadow is being manipulated." Neo made sure to sign to Silver to keep him in the loop.

"So he's being gaslit..." Silver remarked, tilting his head, "man... all this over some made-up info on who he is. It's crazy. Look, even I could tell him who he is. He's a Gemini. That explains so much, actually."

"But it does not explain enough. He requires data and he is receiving conflicting ideas. As such, he is confused." Mecha concluded, contrary to Silver's opinion. "This leaves him vulnerable to manipulation by others, although he is unlikely to realize or admit to that flaw."

Neo's optics wandered, scanning over the city before them. "I am... coming to understand more, now. How is he supposed to believe one claim over another? He can't trust anyone." His LEDs darkened in introspection. "I know the feeling well."

"We gotta help him and save this world." Sonic concluded, standing and moving to stand beside Neo in solidarity. He rested an arm on the robot's shoulder.

"... Don't do that."

Sonic ignored his request with about as much tact as usual. "You found yourself, Neo. I think it's about time we helped someone else to find who they are, too. After all, you're a pro at this, right?"

Neo considered it. "He is still my enemy. And, this is his journey to take alone. I cannot force him to see who he is. I could show him data, I could show him media files, but it is up to him to decide who or what he is now. I was a fool to preconceive that I could stop all of this by just showing him these things."

Sonic had expected such an answer, but he had a counter that he knew would throw a spanner in the works - so, he spoke freely and casually. "An enemy, huh? Is he not family?"

Neo faltered for just a fraction of a second. "He is... as related to us as any kitchen appliance manufactured by the Eggman Empire. Your concussion is affecting you deeply."

Sonic rubbed a finger under his nose. He had caught that slight pause. "I know that's not how you feel."

"Get out of my emotion control center."

"Get outta your head. We have a world to save here. And with you guys by my side, I know we can do it."

"And the sky looks like a fuchsia Windows background. We need to change that." Silver piped up from behind them.

Did Sonic have to complicate everything with this simplicity? Neo squinted into the amber and looked on. Perhaps, this was about to become more complex than it first imagined.

Fire cared not for the time it went out, only that it gave heat and light. A burn that says - I was here. This is who I am. In setting everything ablaze, perhaps only the ashes would tell them who they really were, that they really lived.

Sprawling video feeds backlit by green revealed the devastation caused by the Black Arms. Maps of cities around the world that were targeted only served to further heighten the damage caused. With the toxic green glow at his front, the GUN commander sat and bore witness to the invasion in real-time. He was brought out of his analytic haze by the sudden arrival of one of his field officers. Donned in dark blue and navy green and armed with an assault rifle, the field officer was a picture of the room in that moment. They saluted before addressing their commander.

"Sir. The aliens have hit six major cities around the world. Every city is reporting significant damage and casualties. Among them, Westopolis has suffered the heaviest casualties. Downtown Westopolis was almost completely destroyed." The officer paused, now looking at the screen that flipped between different video feeds of the city. "And, unconfirmed sources have reported seeing a black and red hedgehog in Westopolis."

The commander immediately straightened. A knife he hadn't known was lodged in his chest twisted. "Shadow?"

"Yes, sir."

"Deploy the troops, now. And if you find Shadow with the aliens, kill them all."

"But, sir, isn't Shadow on our side, sir?"

The commander and the field officer held each others' stares for a long moment. Both soldiers recalled the same situation, the same people, the same brothers they had slain. The same promise that history would not repeat itself. And, yet, the commander defaulted to his old ways in a split second of panic.

"I gave you an order, soldier. If you find him with the aliens, he is evil and he is the enemy from that moment on."

"Yes, sir."

In the face of certain devastation, the commander was quickly falling back on old thought patterns.

"You can't fool me, Shadow. This time, you're mine, and if you dare work to worsen this invasion, I'll..."

He told himself this aloud as if trying to heighten his internal convictions. But, truth be told, he was conflicted. He was unsure. In this time of mass panic and pain, it was hard not to panic himself. It was easy to lash out. Easy to make accusations. Easy to make impulsive decisions under this guise of collectedness and authority. But in his mind, all he could see was her - the sister he held dear, and knowing the being who had taken her by the hand that day had caused her death. All he could see was her, her white dress, the red that had no place staining it. It was all her, and his loss, and this pain on a backdrop of Hell brought by these aliens.

So if they wanted to be ruthless, he would be too. Maria wanted peace. She had radiated love. This invasion was against everything she ever was, and he would crush it with his bare hands if he could so that her memory could live on. But was Shadow the right target? He didn't know. He didn't know, and that terrified him. Looking to the screen of Westopolis, he tried to steel himself. White knuckles bore down on the armrests of his seat. He needed to make major decisions to save the people, and being stuck in his head wouldn't help anything.

The screen captured new movements in the city. He leaned forward slightly to watch, looking for any opening in the aliens' defenses. He didn't expect the smallest smile to curl into the corner of his mouth. The turbulence of his heart and mind settled for just long enough to finally feel some relief. Caught in 4k, Sonic and the three hedgehog-series siblings stood at ground zero of the city. He watched Sonic flick Neo's nose, and Silver and Mecha go about putting out fires to the best of their ability.

He sat back and visibly relaxed into himself. "Well, I'll be. We have a real chance against this new threat."

This time last year, he would never have seen himself sitting there, glad to see any machine created by Eggman. So, his mind wandered to his last meeting with the black and silver child, the one who had changed his heart. The way he had confronted one of his darkest demons whilst hot on the kid's heels. An event that singed guilt into his soul.

"You will pay!"

"It's not my fault that Maria died! Doing this will never bring her back!"

"Don't speak her name."

"Hurts, doesn't it? Hurts when someone you love has their name dragged through hell!"

"You don't know a thing about what hurts."

But oh, the robot did. If anybody knew anything about what hurt, it was these machines.

"Listen, I'm sorry that you lost her. That pain, it never goes away. I know. You want someone else to hurt the way you do, so that it feels real, so that everyone else sees what's going on inside people see it. I see it. And I'm sorry that you feel like that... I don't wish loss like that on anybody. But I'm sure she wouldn't want this. From what I've heard, she was a very kind girl, and she loved artificial life."

"You don't know what she would have wanted."

"I don't need to. That's for you to figure out. Don't let loss destroy you. Some things can never be fixed, but they can be carried. Don't carry it with this hate. Carry it with honour, honour of her, what she would have wanted, when you know what that is."

"She was the closest I had to a sister."

"I know. I can't imagine. I'm sorry."

A few steps forward in his mind - the way his grandchildren ran to greet him, accepted him as one of their own in the family.

"You are no longer a target of the military. You are free."

"Bullshit. You don't do anything out of the goodness of your heart. What's your angle?"

"A change of heart."

"Bullshit."

"Guilt."

"More believable."

"Maria would want this, and I can only pray that she forgives me for my actions."

Would Maria want Shadow gone and buried? No. But did Shadow deserve to be brought to justice? Possibly. He needed to know more. Perhaps, Shadow's response to the humans on his trail would tell him what he needed to know. Was Shadow really working with them? Again, he didn't yet know. So many questions unanswered, but one thing was certain. The world would be saved as long as a certain group of heroes would rise to the challenge. Now, he needed to do his part to keep the people safe from harm - and potentially, from Shadow, too. Only time would tell, now.

What would set his soul on fire more? Grief for his sister, or love for the world?

[subsneeded]

Sports Related Jobs : Best Side Jobs for Athletes

Best Sports Related Side Jobs for Athletes

Professional and amateur athletes earn extra money by taking on sports related side jobs. Side jobs for athletes are becoming more and more common in the modern world. The concept of side jobs is nothing new, but it seems to be gaining traction among athletes as a way to earn extra cash. Unfortunately, not every professional athlete gets to sign multi-year multi-million dollar contracts. Many need to supplement their income to make ends meet. Amateur athletes likely have full time jobs and careers already and just love playing their favorite sport. Why not make a few dollars as well on a sport you have spent countless hours and money training and playing throughout your entire life? In this article, I will talk about the kind of side jobs available to athletes looking for a little bit of extra cash on the side. Side jobs can be related to the athlete’s current sport or totally unrelated. Some side jobs are extremely flexible, such as Uber driving, some have really low startup costs such as an e-commerce site, while others take longer to ramp up and are more time-consuming than others. Many athletes turn to internet side jobs for income when they cannot find more traditional jobs or other sources of income. That being said, many people want to continue and focus being an athlete as well.

Conclusion and Takeaways

In conclusion, athletes have a lot of opportunities to make money within or outside of their current sport profession. They can use their skills to be successful in other fields and earn a lot more than they would as an athlete. Athletes should consider their skillset, connections and experience and what they are passionate about before choosing their new sports related side job.We suggest 7 great ideas to pursue related to sports related jobs: coaching a sports team, refereeing or officiating games, blogging, offering personal trainer services, working retail at a sports store selling equipment or clothes, selling your own branded merchandise or simply getting paid to play for teams short players or desperately looking for free agent players are all great options. We also suggest 6 great non sport related side job ideas for athletes ranging from affiliate marketing or blogging online, E-commerce businesses, offering online life coaching, producing online training courses, Uber driving or a totally different career path such as such as crypto trading. The options are boundless and the opportunity is there for you take on a new side hustle. Whether it still be sport related or not, athletes have a lot of opportunities to make extra money in many different ways. Read the full article

[mohityng]

WHICH INSTITUTE ARE THE BEST FOR GROUND HANDLING COURSE IN DUBAI

Ground handling refers to a range of service provided by ground staff to flights on the ground. They are also operation agents or ramp agents.It is an integral part of airline operations.The responsibility is to load and unload baggage, operating luggage carts, guiding plans of arrival and departures, and other airline service tasks.

The best institute in Dubai offering a ground handling course is WINGSWAY TRAINING INSTITUTE. In order to enroll in this institute, the minimum qualification required is +2 in any stream from a recognised institute or university. Upon completion of the course, you will have the skills to control and supervise the airline stations, to implement safety and security station management systems according to industry standards, motivate staff and effectively evaluate their performance, and prevent fraud by being knowledgeable about the current methods that fraudsters use to dilute airline revenues.

A career as a ground operation management is good for candidates who are interested in helping others and assisting the people. Candidates need to be friendly and have a calm disposition. This field is very challenging and candidates need to have good managerials skills to manage all the customers. Some other skills like problem solving skills, interpersonal abilities, teamwork, responsibilities, flexibility, professional and technical technique.

There are numerous job roles available for ground handling course such as airline operation agents, avionic technicians, airline ticket agents, flight dispatchers, reservation sales agents, crew schedules coordinators, airline station agents, sales representatives and passengers service agents.

Top recruiting companies for ground handlers are Air India, Vistara, spicejet, Indigo, Qatar airways, Air asia, virgin atlantics and Qatar airways,etc..The salary for this position depends on the airline company and job profile of the candidates. The average salary is INR 21,000 as a fresher. Their salary increases with experience. Many jobs are available and you can choose as per your expertise.

[moniyng]

IATA Airport Ramp Services Training | Online Courses

The essentials of aircraft maintenance and ground handling are required to start a job on the ramp. In order to prevent flight delays, ramp handling services guarantee that planes can turn around swiftly. This course covers the ground handling rules and safety criteria you need to be aware of when working on a ramp, in addition to giving an overview of ramp services. Regardless of your degree of business experience or current employment, this course provides a solid foundation for continuous professional advancement in the field of ground operations. WingsWay offers the best IATA courses in Dubai.

The reputable Airport Ramp Services course from the IATA is combined in this training programme with WingsWay Institute, a state-of-the-art training platform with a wealth of media offered by our excellent academics, global business leaders, and specialists in the field of leadership development. Additionally, WingsWay offers online training courses.

Let's say you're thinking about beginning your Ramp Agent job path. In that scenario, it's critical to understand the education, experience, and training needed to become a skilled ramp agent, as well as the steps you may take to enhance your career.

The cutting-edge WingsWay Institute, a platform for advanced learning that includes a variety of media presented by our outstanding academics, world-class corporate executives, and specialists in the field of leadership development, is integrated with the prestigious IATA Airport Ramp Services course for this training programme. Additionally, WingsWay offers an international diploma in airport ramp service.

In addition to the ground handling rules and safety requirements you need to be aware of in order to work on the ramp safely, this course provides an overview of ramp services.

Whether you are new to the industry or recent hiring, this course provides a solid foundation for continued professional growth in the field of ground operations.

For this training programme, the prestigious IATA Ramp Services in Airport course is integrated with The WingsWay Institute, a cutting-edge training platform with a variety of media delivered by our excellent academics, international business leaders, and professionals in the field of leadership development. A ramp services international diploma is also available through WingsWay.

[writersrealmbts]

A Natural: Part 7/Finale

Description: Hybrid!Taehyung x Reader: You’re a single mom, and your son is your entire world. When you take him to get his first hybrid, his choice is pretty bewildering, until you realize that he was picking out a dad.

Posted: 04/09/2021

Tags: Taehyung, Hybrid Taehyung, Human Reader

Wordcount: 3,673

A/N: Yay! Another series finished! Thanks for loving this story!

Theo was talking animatedly with Taehyung as he was wheeled toward the house, but he got quieter as you approached the front door to unlock it, looking down at the ramp beneath the wheels of the wheelchair.

Tae pushed him through the front door, his conversation also lulling.

Theo looked around, a bit of a smile on his face. “I get to stay now, right?”

You nodded, kissing his forehead. “You get to stay now and forever. We do have to go back for checkups and therapy but you’re home and you’re safe and I’m making roast beef and mashed potatoes.”

“Yummy! Can we go play, Dad?” Theo asked, brightening instantly and sort of bouncing in his wheelchair.

“Sure!” Tae pushed the wheelchair through at a speed that made you nervous. But you knew he would never purposely endanger Theo: Theo was his pup. That was evident in all of his actions, in his conversation, and in the effort he had made to get certified so that he could be there when Theo was released.

You went into the kitchen to baste your roast and then start peeling the mashed potatoes, trying to calm your heart because your baby was finally home again. Finally, finally home again, after weeks and months of too little patience and not enough answers, and a whole sea of tears. Therapy, rehab, tests, more tests, and after all of that, you had your baby home—less mobile than before, but still your baby.

You watched Theo playing on the bed with Tae, fighting the tears and hopelessly losing because he was back where he belonged.

Peace, comfort, and everything right in the world. Nothing intruding, just your little family.

So, of course, your phone rang.

You groaned and answered it. “Yoongi? Really? We just got Theo home.”

“It happened. We’re out of a job,” Yoongi answered, sighing. “They closed the company down.”

“Ugh. You could have texted me that,” You huffed, heading back to the kitchen. The two of you had basically considered everything going on and known that the company was going to collapse. You’d almost been told as much when the two of you went in to talk to an IRS agent who wanted you to walk her through your jobs and some files and go over the discrepancies that had led to the audits.

“Yeah, well, I also had to tell you that the paperwork came in the mail today, and we close on the building next week.”

“Okay, that was worth calling me,” You said, hopping onto the counter. “What’s next on the list?”

“Fixing the building? Getting the classes organized. You finish the certification class tomorrow?”

“Yeah, it’s kind of pathetic,” You said, shrugging. “Too easy. Let’s make our classes thorough, yeah?”

“Agreed. Jin is already writing a teaching plan. He’s got it halfway done—at least, I hope that’s the halfway point. Jungkook’s been helping, which makes hyung happy. And he’s finished the dog-training next week. The teacher was really excited to hear about what we’re doing, by the way, and gave Jin a bunch of things. She asked Jin to sit in on her next couple of classes as her helper.”

“That’s really great. Jimin?”

“He’s hitting garage sales to celebrate getting the building, hoping to find some cheap stuff to get us started. How’s Theo?”

“He’s fine. He’s bright and happy and playing with Taehyung right now. He’s taking things well and I’m making his favorite, and he’s looking forward to everyone coming over tomorrow.” You checked your timer, then sighed. “We’re totally doing pizza, though. I’m already exhausted.”

“Okay. I can pick it up on my way over.”

“Thanks. I’ve got to go. Need to get the rest of dinner started.”

“Tell Theo we’re looking forward to playing games with him tomorrow.”

“You got it. Eat well.”

“You too.”

You slipped off of the counter, and started putzing around the kitchen making some side dishes to go with dinner.

Tae came out. “How long until dinner?”

“Twenty minutes?”

“Better keep it warm, he fell asleep.”

You nodded, letting him stop you and hold you still. “He okay?”

“Very okay. He’s so happy he’s home that he just sort of passed out.” He kissed your cheek, then sighed. “I’m so happy too. I finally get to see him and hold him. I just want to hold him and cry.”

“I’ve almost been in tears for the entire day,” You told him. “I figure once he’s in bed for the night, I’ll cry my little heart out.”

“Can I cry with you?”

“Of course you can. I would never ask you not to cry when you wanted to.” You turned to meet his gaze, gently touching one of his furry ears. “It’s been hard for both of us. It’s still going to be hard. I’m terrified of the next few days.”

“Me too. Even if they told us what to expect and how to care for him, there’re still a lot of mistakes we’re going to make and that scares the fur off me.”

You nodded. “I wouldn’t be able to make it through all this if I hadn’t had you, you know.”

Taehyung nodded. “I know.”

“Mommy! Look! I made it in my chair and through the house!” Theo called, managing the last push through to the kitchen and raising his arms in victory.

“My baby! Look at you!” You hurried over bending to kiss his face all over. “Excellent job!”

“It’s exhau…it’s tiring,” Theo finished, nodding firmly to cover for his lost word.

“Exhausting, fatiguing, tiresome, or draining,” You supplied, sharing a smile with him and moving around to the back of the chair, bringing him over to the table. “What do you want to drink?”

“Water. It smells really good, mommy.” Theo smiled up at you.

You dropped a couple kisses on his face before going to get him his drink.

Tae was bringing over the side dishes. “You want to stay in your wheelchair, or you want to sit on the chair?”

“Chair, it’s a little too high,” Theo said, touching the table edge, which was practically to his chin.

Tae nodded and pulled the wheelchair back. “Arms around my neck.”

Theo did as he was told and the two of them moved him to the dining chair.

“You okay, baby?” You asked, noticing the way Theo was sort of fidgeting in the chair as you brought the roast over.

Theo looked up at you. “It’s still weird.”

“Your legs?” You guessed, resting your hand on his cheek.

He nodded, leaning into your touch. “I don’t like it.”

“I know. Neither do we. But…there are some things in life that are out of our control.” You pressed a kiss to his forehead. “And we’re going to be with you every moment of the way.”

Theo nodded, sighing. “I missed you, mommy.”

“I was with you,” You teased gently, but you understood exactly what he meant. It had always been the two of you, three once Tae had joined, and while he was in the hospital everything felt wrong. You didn’t get to hold him like you wanted, and it seemed like every time you had him in your arms and both of you were comfortable a nurse would come in to do something or other.

“But we weren’t home,” He said, watching Tae put the bowl of mashed potatoes down. “I really, really missed you daddy.”

Tae came over and nuzzled Theo. “I missed you more.”

“I missed you most,” Theo responded easily.

You hummed softly. “Come on. Time to eat, boys, before it gets cold.”

Theo hummed happily as you filled his plate, immediately trying to cut his own food first before ultimately letting Tae do it. “Too tired. Too hard.”

“That’s fine, kiddo,” Tae answered easily. “We all need help sometimes. And cutting things can be hard. At least you try.”

Theo nodded. “Mommy said that as long as I try, I can make it through the world.”

“Your mom is really smart,” Tae said, smiling at you. “She’s got a good history of trying her best at everything, including taking care of you and me. You chose her well.”

Theo laughed. “I didn’t choose her!”

“What?! Of course you did!” Tae objected, grinning himself. “Every kid chooses their parents!”

Theo and Tae launched into a playful debate and storytime about how every kid chooses their parent while you ate, quietly listening and just enjoying the fact that you were home.

Theo was home.

“Uncle Hobi said that he’d help me catch up to the rest of the class over the summer. I don’t want to do school work in the summer, but I don’t want to be behind. Kevin and Jun were close to being my friends, and they sent more drawings and letters than the other kids.”

“They wanted to visit, too, but they didn’t want to tire you out,” You told him. “We told them that they could come play with you once you were home.”

He grinned. “When? Tomorrow? Tuesday?”

“I’ll talk to their moms and arrange it all, and let you know. But, let’s have a couple days just our family.”

Theo nodded, but then looked back up. “Wait, does that include my uncles?”

“Of course. We’re working on projects together so they’re over quite a bit lately. And they’re coming over tomorrow, remember?” Tae nuzzled Theo, then added more potatoes to his plate. “Eat up.”

“More food?”

Tae nodded. “You need to eat well to recover.”

“Oh. Okay.” Theo started eating the extra food on his plate.

“Only eat until you’re full, though,” You instructed.

“Yes, mommy,” Theo answered, smiling at you.

Your baby was home.

——

“Woohoo!” Theo cheered as he rolled down the ramp at a speed carefully controlled by Jungkook.

You finished edging the window and set your brush aside.

The building for the training center was almost finished, and all of the licensing and training that you all needed, and the first classes were slated to start in three days.

“Over here is our obstacle course, which we think will help those training with us, as well as those in physical therapy, learn how to maneuver around things that they’ll come across on a regular day. As you can see, our happy tester is enjoying going down the ramp after he was working on trying to get up it on his own for a while.” Jimin high-fived Theo as he led the group past. “We’re also finishing painting, so try not to touch the walls unless you like paint on you.”

The people chuckled, fascinated by Jimin’s enthusiastic tour. He was showing some hybrid-shelter owners through the facility to sell them the idea of sending hybrids there for training to increase adoption rates. He’d given multiple tours so far, because he was by-far the best at it, aside from Taehyung, but Taehyung had the disadvantage of being a hybrid.

Hoseok was trailing the group, but split off to join you. “They’re practically eating out of his hand.”

“Good. We have bills coming eventually.”

“Yeah.” He sat down next to you. “But this place is amazing. You guys are going to do really well.”

“I hope so.”

Hoseok handed you the folder. “So, I looked things over.”

“Good news, then?” You asked sarcastically.

“Not bad news. He’s learning more slowly, but he’s still learning. As he grows stronger, I think he’ll be okay. He just gets tired so easily that I think it’s causing his trouble. So, once he gets stronger and isn’t as tired, I think he’ll catch up just fine. But for now, he’s going to stay just a little behind. I’m moving up with the class as part of the new program, so I can keep following his progress and helping him.” He patted your shoulder. “I already talked to the higher-ups about it. They agreed that it was important for him to be with his friends. Especially since we’re working on catching him up. And he’s still a bright kid, that catches on quickly. Tired equals distracted, distracted equals slower learning.”

“Thanks for the crayons, teach,” You answered dryly.

He grinned at you. “Hey, there’s a reason I teach kids.”

“Because you are one?”

He laughed and the two of you watched as Jungkook helped Theo work his way up the easiest ramp so he could go down the hardest again.

“He really likes this place. After we left yesterday, it was all he could talk about,” You told him, smiling as Theo cheered on his way down the ramp again.

“His friends are coming to play here, aren’t they?”

You nodded. “They’ll be here soon. Taehyung is waiting to show them in. Their mom’s were excited to hear that this was practically a playground, rainy days are hard.”

“You could market day-passes and make that one room into a playroom for kids, that’d help bring in more income. I know several sets of parents that would bring their younger kids in, especially on rainy days. And if hybrid rights ever get reestablished, you could make it hybrid friendly which would really help.”

Yoongi paused in the doorway and looked at you.

You looked back, then at Hoseok. “So, we told you you’re a shareholder, right?”

Hoseok nodded.

Yoongi pulled out a notebook and wrote the idea down. “I’ll start pricing things and we can discuss it.”

“Theo!”

You looked over as Kevin and Jun ran over.

“Hi!” Theo greeted them enthusiastically and they started talking.

Taehyung was leading in their mothers.

“I should go talk with them,” You excused yourself and headed over.

“Y/n, it’s so good to see you. Thanks for letting the kids play here, it looks great,” Jun’s mother (Debby?) said, sounding genuinely enthusiastic.

“And safe. Kevin has a habit of hitting his head on everything so I’m glad to see everything is padded. Lumps are easy, cuts are hard,” Kevin’s mother (Jamie?) added. “Plus the rain.”

You nodded. “They’re little balls of energy, but I’m really grateful for you two bringing them. Theo was so excited to hear he would get to see them.”

“Jun’s been asking about Theo almost every week. These past months must have been so hard. I don’t think I could have handled it.”

“I have a really good support system,” You answered easily, turning with them to watch the three boys playing, Jungkook keeping an eye on them to help if Theo got stuck.

The other two boys were being really thoughtful and kind and they saw the wheelchair and Theo being stuck in it as a challenge and a game, which would definitely help. They listened when Jungkook did have to help them and they already seemed to be having fun.

“Are you sure you don’t want us to hang around and keep track of them?” Kevin’s mom asked after giving you her husband’s number as well as Kevin’s backpack.

“We’d be happy to help,” Debby added.

You shook your head. “Go home, relax. Or clean, or whatever you need to get done. I’ve got several helpers on hand if I need them, including their favorite teachers. That is, as long as you’re okay with Jin and Taehyung helping out.”

“Of course, this whole law is ridiculous. It won’t last.” Debby waved a hand as if dismissing the law.

“Can’t last, more like. My favorite babysitter is a golden retriever hybrid, she’s been living in our basement ever since this happened. She was really excited to hear about this place, though, so I told her I would bring her once it was open.”

You smiled. “She’d be very welcome, and just let me know if she wants to take any of the classes.”

They nodded and left after telling their boys to behave and listen to you and the other adults.

You went into different rooms, double-checking the painting and making sure everything looked nice and correct.

Namjoon was sorting through the area rugs, placing them in order by thickness and type. This would make it easier to not only determine what carpets might be easier for people in wheelchairs, but help them and those helping them grow accustomed to the type of challenges that different carpets could present.

Yoongi was going through and making notes of different things that still needed to be finished, or other things that came to mind, as well as double checking some of the safety parameters.

Jimin was still talking with the people he was giving the tour to.

Hoseok was sorting through the spare office supplies that all of you had managed to scrounge up (a lot of yours came from your college years, like the dozen or so sticky note pads, the handful of highlighters, a plethora of paperclips and binder clips, push pins, pencils, pens, erasers, loose-leaf lined paper, binders, folders, and index cards—so many index cards), while keeping the kids in his sight should Tae or Jungkook get distracted.

And Seokjin was setting up the kitchen, which was going to be teaching cooking classes as part of companion training, but also used to show the difficulties a person in a wheelchair would face on one side of the kitchen while the other side was made for people in wheelchairs. He really liked the kitchen, and it was his pet project

Which meant you could go and look at the room that wasn’t being used yet.

Hoseok was right, it would make a really good room for kids playing. Something that would be easy to sanitize, but still allow for the kids to play. A slide would easily fit there, some rock wall-type of holds on the wall there….

You backed out of the room and stuck a sticky-note to the door, labeling it the Jungle room.

Yoongi joined you, giving you a questioning look.

“If we’re going to make a room for all kids to play in, we should have a theme for it. Kids like themes. Jungle is a good theme.”

He nodded. “That cafe I told you about, they said if we get busy enough, they’d love to partner with us and open in the cafeteria.”

“That’d be perfect. For now we’re just going to have to offer snacks by the front desk, though.”

“Jimin is on the phone with the local paper.”

You slowly turned toward him again. “What?”

He nodded. “They called, wanting to talk to someone about this place and Jimin saw me starting to stumble so I pretended I was just an assistant and told them I was handing the phone over to one of the founding members. He’s good at the talking thing. Between him, Jimin, and Tae, we should never need to talk on the phone.”

“I’ll believe that when I see it,” You answered, hurrying to find Jimin because you wanted to know how the interview went.

“Yes, thank you so much for your inquiries. You have a nice day as well.” Jimin hung up, and grinned at you. “Well, we’re definitely getting some attention!”

“What did they ask? What did you say?”

“Well, they asked why we started this, when we were opening, what we were offering—I added on hybrid companion training for the elderly, but I didn’t think you two would mind—and I gave them the answers, I didn’t divulge first names or anything. I used strictly last names, because even that lends us more anonymity and autonomy. I told them we wanted to help our community and those who were currently suffering—I even added that our training areas worked great for kids playing when it was raining outside because they could hear the boys laughing. They asked if we had considered opening it as a playground for the kids as well when it wasn’t being used for training and I answered yes—but I also added that we’d need another permit or two that we haven’t filed for yet. We have considered that, right?”

“We have, actually, we were talking about turning one of the rooms into a kids playroom specifically. Then if we have hybrids who have kids, the kids can play while their parents are in classes,” Yoongi said, definitely adding that to his notebook, as well as the elderly thing. “This is going to be a life-long project, isn’t it?”

“If we’re lucky,” Jimin answered cheerfully.

You left Yoongi grumbling to go check on the boys, noticing that Theo wasn’t playing as much, but he was still laughing with them and apparently they were rescuing him from pirates or something.

Taehyung wrapped an arm around your waist. “You know…I’m really proud of you.”

You relaxed into his hold, resting your head on his shoulder. “I’m really happy Theo chose you as his father.”

“I’m really happy you let him,” He whispered, then tilted your chin up to gaze into your eyes for a moment.

Then he leaned in and kissed you, softly and gently, a silent promise for forever.

“I knew it!” Theo yelled happily, definitely staring at you two when you looked over. “YES!”

“Whoops,” You whispered, trying not to laugh. It seemed an age ago that you told Theo not to expect the two of you fall in love. Told him he could call Taehyung his father if he really wanted to.

An age since Taehyung first kissed you.

A lifetime since you told Theo he could adopt a hybrid.

Taehyung laughed and kissed you again. “Thank you for my family.”

“Does that mean you don’t want more pups?” You asked cheekily.

He shrugged. “I’m satisfied with whatever I get in life. If that’s more kids, then I’m not going to complain. But Theo’s enough for me.”

You kissed his cheek and rested in his arms, knowing everything in your future was going to be worth the trials. But he was a natural at helping you through it.

You couldn’t ask for anything better than this.

–

Previous.

Taehyung Masterpost.  Masterlist.  

Tagging:  @alex–awesome–22  @missmoxxiesworld  @bryvada @knjhe  @i-dont-even-know-fck  @forvever-ddaeng  @ncttzuuy   @briramirezalipio   @givebuckysomelove  @bunnyboyenthusiast  @rosita7703 @veryuniquenamegoeshere  @lottosehunnie   @forevermoremagcon  @kpopgirlbtssvt  @0mysticx0  @littlewolfieposts @kerikaaria @hemmofluke @beauthiefully

[lizamango]

Finding You (Bucky Barnes x Reader) 6/?

A/N: Hi loves! Long chapter ahead! Watched Shang-Chi this weekend and wowowowowow go see it if you haven’t!! 

We are now in the AGE OF ULTRON phase; I wanted to finally start building the foundations of your friendship with Wanda this chapter! 

And Agents of Shield cameos!

Summary: You’ve been one of SHIELD’s top spies for years but what happens when the organisation you’ve put your trust in crumbles and Captain America gives you a mission to help him find his best friend? The last thing you expected to happen was to fall in love with your assignment and become best friends with a witch.

Taglist  ~ just comment if you wanna be added

@buckylokisimp​​, @white-wolf-buckaroo​​, @austynparksandpizza, @markandlexies,  @yaszx​

Word Count: 2705

Masterlist

Chapter 1 ~ Chapter 2 ~ Chapter 3 ~ Chapter 4 ~ Chapter 5

Warnings: cursing, slowest fucking burn oml

Chapter Summary: You meet the Maximoff twins and the Avengers on your search for Sergeant Barnes.

Chapter 6:  I’M NICE TO MEET

“Another bust,” I say into my comms as Fitz, Johnson, Ward and I exit the base, leaving knocked out or restrained HYDRA agents for the local authorities to find.

“Copy that,” Fury replies.

“You know, this is like… we’re vigilantes, right? This isn’t legal anymore? We have no jurisdiction anywhere,” Fitz says.

“SHIELD did what SHIELD wanted,” I shrug. “Now it’s our turn.”

“That’s true, SHIELD never followed the rules, not even their own,” Daisy added.

“Excuse me, did you forget that you were on the line with the Director of SHIELD?” Fury defends.

I chuckle. “You mean former right? Because Fitz has a point, if we get caught we go to jail too.”

“Well, good thing we still have access to a quinjet,” Fury says as he lands right in front of us.

“Very smooth,” we climb in as the ramp comes down and take a seat. I sigh, “gone are the good ol’ days.”

“I never even got to experience them,” Daisy shrugs.

“They weren’t that great for us. She had it good, being Level 7,” Grant comments.

“You’re Level 6! I’m still Level 4!” Fitz exclaims, offended.

“The system collapsed when SHIELD fell, I can make you unofficially Level 10 if you’d like?” I offer as I go to the mini fridge to take out a… “who ate the mozzarella and prosciutto wrap?” I say, closing the door and looking at everyone disappointedly.

“Wasn’t me,” Daisy and Grant say.

My eyes shift to Fitz. “I’m sorry, did it have your name on it? Because it didn’t so…” I pick up an apple and throw it at him. “Ow ow ow what the hell!”

“Behave,” we hear May through the comms.

“Sorry, May,” we all say as we take out seats, buckling up to meet Fury.

He’s typing away at the computer when we enter his makeshift underground office. It’s still hard to get used to being based here and not some fancy DC high rise.

“We’ve stormed two bases and found nothing. The Avengers have cleared four and they haven’t found the sceptre either,” Daisy recounts.

“There has to be something we’re missing,” Fitz says.

“We have two computer geniuses, tactile and operations experts and we can’t find a magical space stick,” I say, frustrated but this mission isn’t the only thing on my mind. It’s been almost a year since Steve asked Sam and I for help and we still haven’t found anything solid. The HYDRA bases haven’t revealed anything helpful either.

“On a lighter note, HYDRA is six bases down! I see that as an absolute win,” Fitz smiles.

“I’d say you all take a break. I’ve not found anything as of yet so… go back to your lives for a little bit. I’ll send directives if I find anything,” Fury orders.

“You know… you’re not the boss of us anymore, right?” I raise a brow.

“You’re dismissed.”

I go home with the intention of getting some rest but there’s something grating at my mind. It seems too easy that we’ve taken down six bases in the span of a year after HYDRA had been hiding in the shadows for decades… I go to my laptop and map out where each base was found. Huh… They arrange in a line of six and when the order of discovery is taken into account it seems that each base gets farther and farther away from one country. Sokovia.

I pack a bag with disguises that I still kept around, a photostatic veil and more subtle weapons in the place of guns. Time to go into the belly of the beast.

I look at my phone and assume the identity of a scientist that I see is on her way into the base. Before she gets too close I knock her out with a an electric disc. I drag her unconscious body to a place with cover and scan her face with my phone, syncing it up with my photostatic veil. Once it uploads, I put it on my face which has now taken hers. I style my hair similar to hers and replace my clothes with hers. I tie her up but inject her with a sedative that should last long enough for me to gather intel. I go through her bag and read through her diary and tablet to see where she should and shouldn’t be, to prevent suspicion.

I sigh. “Ideme na to,” here we go, I practice my Sokovian.

I enter the base. Doctor Kovak seems to be reporting to sub-level 3 according to her diary. I follow the signs quietly but the staff here seem to be too busy with their own tasks to mind me.

“Doctor Kovak,” I turn to the source of the voice. Wolfgang von Strucker, of course. “How are the test subjects?” he asks.

“I’m checking on them now, Herr Strucker,” I respond. He nods and gestures for me to walk with him. He leads me to two rooms with one sided glass. HYDRA’s still experimenting on people… There’s a man in the cell to the left who looks healthy enough and a woman in the cell next to him, sat on her knees looking at blocks of wood. I raise a brow but take out Dr. Kovak’s tablet, tapping around to find something.

“Magnificent, aren’t they?”

I find a tab on SUBJECTS and tap it, leading me to 16 more tabs labelled FAILURES but two SUCCESSES. This brings me to the Maximoff twins, Pietro and Wanda. The doctor’s newest entry was from last night. “The male has increased metabolism and improved homeostasis,” I say. “His vitals look normal, for someone going through this,” I add as I look to the monitor on the wall of his side. “The female has exhibited abilities of telekinesis.” I stop myself from frowning… they’re human?

“Keep an eye on them. I want to know more. I want to know how they survived the powers of the sceptre while many others did not. What makes them special, doctor? We are running out of bases to feed the Avengers.” He walks away before I can acknowledge his orders.

So the sceptre is here and they were just trying to keep themselves out of our radar. My stomach sinks slightly in disappointment as there was the possibility that what HYDRA was hiding was Barnes… maybe he’s still free then. Hopefully.

I look at the twins files for more information on why they would volunteer for such experiments. Native Sokovians, orphaned at ten years old and only having each other since then. I look up and notice that Wanda is staring at me. Or, correction, she’s staring into my soul.

I need to find the sceptre but that can wait at the presence of two enhanced individuals that have chosen the opposing side.

I open Wanda’s cell. “Miss Maximoff,” I greet. “Good morning,” she doesn’t reply. “I just wanted to learn more about you.”

Her head tilts but she doesn’t say anything.

“What made you want to volunteer for this… program?” I ask.

“Why do you want to know?”

“I believe there is something special about you and your brother. We’ve of course taken biological samples but I like to take a more… holistic approach to find out more.”

She looks at me and I swear her eyes glow red.

“I just want to help.”

She blinks and her posture relaxes as if she believes me. “I lost everyone but my brother. There’s so much wrong with the world. We just want to change it.”

“That’s why you agreed to be experimented on?”

She nods. “My turn. What did you do to the real Dr. Kovak?”

I look up sharply. How could she possibly…? Wanda doesn’t seem to want to alert the other scientists and agents of my presence so I clear my throat and straighten up. “She’s safe. I just needed intel.”

Her brow raises. “On what?”

“Can’t ask me two questions in a row, Miss Maximoff.”

“I could just… read your mind.”

“You can do that?”

Her brow quirks as an answer. “Have you been withholding information from Strucker?”

“Yes.”

I hum at her honesty. “Good. You can’t trust him.”

“And I can trust you? A strange woman who is wearing someone else’s face and clothes,” she counters.

“Compared to anyone else here? Yes.”

She is about to say something but alarms sound. I leave the cell, closing the door with a last look at Wanda. I’ll get her out, I promise myself.

“What’s happening?” I ask, tucking the tablet away.

“We’re under attack.”

“Who?” Strucker asks.

“The Avengers.”

Shit. I sneak out and hear Strucker giving out orders. I find a server room and start downloading what intel I can about HYDRA’s plans and remaining strongholds for any clue on Sergeant Barnes’s locations and slip out. Rogers doesn’t need to know I was here with no back up.

The cold air greets me as I climb out of the base and start to discreetly make my way back to the town to catch a train to the next city to catch a flight back to DC

I feel someone behind me and I sharply turn, dodging their hold and kicking them in the knee by instinct. I stop when I see who it is. But he doesn’t as he goes in for a punch, I dodge and use his shield to propel myself backwards to get some distance between us.

“Steve! Don’t sneak up on a spy like that, you’re gonna get yourself killed.” I reach a hand down and he takes it as he gets back up on both feet.

He frowns under his helmet but there is no recognition in his eyes. I remember than the veil is still on my face so I peel it off and undo my hair.

“Y/N? What are you doing here?”

“Same as you,” I shrug.

“Did you come in with a team?” he asks concerned as he places his shield on his back. “Y/N where is your team? Did you not have back up?”

“I went in alone, okay?”

“Why would you do that?” Someone in his comms must have spoken because he turns away briefly. “I’m dealing with something but south west is clear.”

“It was just intel retrieval. Nothing big.”

“It’s you vs HYDRA, that’s not enough. Did you even have an extraction plan?”

“I was gonna take a train to Bucharest and then a plane back to DC.”

He gives me a what the fuck were you thinking look. “You ride back home with us. But for now… care to join us?”

I smirk. “How could I refuse?” We enter the compound to take down more HYDRA agents. As Steve kicks down an agent Strucker runs into us.

“Baron Strucker. Hydra’s number one thug,” Steve says, circling the man.

“Technically I’m a thug for SHIELD,” he retorts.

“Well then technically you’re unemployed. Where’s Loki’s sceptre?”

“Don’t worry, I know when I’m beat. You’ll mention how I cooperated, I hope,” he surrenders immediately. Suspiciously.

I frown and see the flowing red eyes in the shadows.

“I’ll put it right under illegal human experimentation. How many are there-”

“Cap!” I warn but it’s too late as Wanda hits him with a red surge of energy that knocks him down the stairs.

I’m ready in case Wanda comes for me but she doesn’t, just exiting the place and closing the door behind her.

“We have a second enhanced. Female. Do not engage,” Steve says into his comms as he runs back up the stairs.

“You’ll have to be faster than that–“ I hit Strucker with a disc and he convulses as he falls.

“I love those things,” I remark.

Steve chuckles then picks Strucker up. “Guys, I’ve got Strucker.”

“Want me to keep looking for the sceptre?” I offer.

He nods. “I’ll take Strucker, you find Tony. Nat and Bruce are still on the field but Thor and Clint are on the jet.” At my confused look it’s like he read my mind. “Clint got hurt. But he’ll pull through.” He turns into his comms. “Tony, Y/N’s coming to you.” Steve gives me his communicator and leaves with Strucker.

I go back to the level where the twins were to start looking for Stark.

“Mr. Stark this is Agent – well former agent Y/N L/N, are you able to give me your 20?”

“Well, I found the sceptre. Bringing it up with me now. I was at the south corridor and I found a secret doorway.” I follow where he says, remembering the map I saw on the tablet. “Nice to meet you, former agent.”

“I’m nice to meet, Mr. Stark.”

“I like you.” He taps something on his bracelet and his armour envelopes him.

“Is that it?”

“Yep. Pretty underwhelming, huh?” he seems out of breath… shaken.

“Are you alright, Stark?”

“I’m fine,” he responds all too quickly.

“Let’s get to the jet,” I follow the coordinates that Steve sent me on my phone and the Avengers are all there waiting.

Natasha smiles as she sees me. “What a surprise,” she says going in for a hug as Stark hands the sceptre to Thor and starts up the engine.

“Whatcha doin’ all the way out here?” Clint rasps.

“I could ask you the same thing old man,” I lightly joke, weary of his injury.

“Who you callin’ old? We got a thousand year old and a hundred year old on board.”

“Alright, ease up before you hurt yourself even more,” Natasha says as she gives him a sedative.

Once Clint was passed out and secure I take a seat with Nat next to me.

“So what are you doing here?” she asks.

“Same as you.”

Raising a brow she sighs. “Don’t tell me Fury’s still working you?”

“Of course he is. We have to take down the rest of HYDRA.”

“That’s our job, now.”

I roll my eyes. “Yeah, you’re doing great just invading countries that already hate you and wrecking historical sites. Top notch spy work.”

“Not a spy anymore, Y/N and neither are you,” she retorts.

Steve enters our conversation, standing tall with his arms crossed. “What do you mean?”

“See, you don’t even do your research before you go in. What happened to knowing your enemy?” I ask them both.

“Last I checked our enemies were people we thought were friends so I think we know them pretty well,” Steve replies.

“The two enhanced?” I counter. “What do you know about them?”

“What do you?” Stark asks.

I smirk. “So nothing?” I pull out the tablet that miraculously did not take any damage. I turn it on and find the file on the twins. “They’re called the Maximoff twins; Wanda and Pietro. They were orphaned at 10 years old when a shell hit their civilian apartment in the Novi Grad Bombings. Sokovia has been in the middle of a rebellion for years now. They don’t like you guys very much. Wanda has… special abilities. Neuroelectric interfacing, telekinesis, mental manipulation,” at confused faces I simplify. “She can move things with her mind and read yours. The latter, she has kept from Strucker.”

“So how do you know about it?” Stark asks.

“Because I spoke to her,” I shrug. “I know she can read minds because she knew I wasn’t the doctor I took the identity of.”

“You got in proximity with them?”

I nod.

“You know how dangerous that is, Y/N? You could have gotten killed, going in there like that, all alone. Did anyone else know where you were?” Steve demands.

“Okay, one, I wasn’t alone, I had my weapons.” He rolls his eyes. “Two, that’s classified.”

“There isn’t a SHIELD anymore, Y/N. Information isn’t classified.”

“Then I’m not telling.”

“Why not?” Nat asks.

“Because you’ll yell at me.”

Steve presses two fingers on the bridge of his nose and huffs, knowing the answer.

“What about the other one? Pietro?” Stark asks.

“He’s just really fast.”

We land on the helipad at Stark tower and Helen Cho and Hill take Clint to patch him up. Steve asks about Strucker and we get the news that NATO has him and it’s all in all mission accomplished.

💖

Chapter 7

Thank you for reading everyone!

[wingsway01]

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[jaskiers-sweetkiss]

Half A Heart

Pairing: SHIELD!Reader x Daniel Sousa

Word Count: 2.3K

Warnings: some self-destructive behavior, vomiting, mild AoS spoilers up through 7x04

a/n: Here’s a Daniel Sousa soulmates AU I thought of at like midnight and wrote in two hours because I swear I cannot get enough of that man. Let me know what you think!

___

Everyone started out with their lives feeling kinda off-kilter. Everything felt just a little bit off, perpetually unbalanced, not quite full, and it all had to do with the heart tattooed on each person’s wrist. Or, rather, a half a heart, as it wasn’t until you met your soulmate that the heart became whole and with it the entire world shifted into place. You were a bit different. You still had the same half a heart as all your friends, but yours was white. Nobody knew what it meant. Normal soulmarks were red, a sign that your soulmate was alive and well and you’d be meeting them any day now. Black soulmarks existed as well, though they were much sadder. A black soulmark meant that your soulmate had died, all accounts said the black mark was a terrible burden to carry. However, there were no records of a white soulmark. 

Growing up you believed the white mark was a worse burden to carry, sometimes just wishing the mark would turn black. At least then you’d know your soulmate had actually existed. Instead, you had become certain that you didn’t have a soulmate, destined to walk the earth with only half a heart. 

So, you had thrown yourself into your career. You were recruited by SHIELD directly out of high school and you spent four years at the Academy of Operations, training endlessly to be a field agent. Four years of hoping that if you just pushed yourself a little harder you could forget the excitement of your peers who were meeting their soulmates for the first time, forget that you would never know the feeling of “rightness” everyone talked about. It was no surprise when you graduated top of your class. 

You were quickly recommended to a team of agents who took on SHIELD’s most dangerous assignments. It wasn’t until a couple missions in that you realized: no one on your team had a soulmate. Each of your teammates had a black mark on their wrists and they explained that SHIELD only assigned people without soulmates to the team. The organization refused to send agents with soulmates on such dangerous missions, it would be cruel. You learned the policy was similar to that of the military up until the 80s when people began petitioning to be able to join the armed forces outside of wartime. 

Some might’ve found this practice disheartening and sickening, that SHIELD was willing to send you to your deaths just because you didn’t have your other half waiting for you at home but you took it as a good thing. You convinced yourself that not having a soulmate just made you an even better agent. At least, you tried to convince yourself, but some nights you were kept awake by your longing for your other half. 

Nevertheless, you were pissed when you received your transfer notice. The higher-ups had recommended you for a different team, and with or without your approval you were leaving. You’d had half a mind to go sulk in your bunk when you arrived at the giant plane you’d be traveling around the world in but your new teammates hadn’t given you a chance. Coulson - yes Phil Coulson, as in died-for-the-Avengers Phil Coulson - had immediately introduced you to FitzSimmons, who had latched onto you immediately. 

The team file had led you to believe FitzSimmons was one person, though you quickly discovered that it was a scientist duo, Leopold Fitz and Jemma Simmons. The two were clearly soulmates. You had known without even seeing their full, red marks. They acted like two halves of a whole and for the first month of traveling with the team you did your best to avoid them as much as possible. You felt bad, but you felt worse trying to ignore the pain in your chest stemming from the damned mark on your own wrist that seemed amplified in their presence. 

At the start of your time together Simmons had been fascinated by your mark, though after inconclusive test after inconclusive test she concluded that the white mark was a mystery. Though you still didn’t have an answer, the one-on-one time with Simmons had made you more comfortable around the scientist and you found yourself not minding FitzSimmons’ presence as much. 

By the time SHIELD fell the team had become something of a family to you. It wasn’t perfect, but you allowed the love you all shared for each other to fill some of the gaping hole your lack of a soulmate left. You still felt like you were walking around with only one shoe most days, but it felt more bearable. 

You had a support system now. You comforted each other through Ward’s betrayal and Fitz’s recovery. You stuck by each other through alien cities and the discovery of Inhumans. You were relentless in rescuing Jemma from Maveth and Daisy from Hive. You were a shoulder to cry on as Daisy’s mark turned from red to black after Lincoln’s sacrifice. Your team had been there to rescue you when you had refused to leave the Framework because at least there you had a soulmate. You’d been to the future together, you’d stopped the end of the world, you’d seen way too much loss and experienced way too much suffering but you were still together, even if some members were gone. 

You were so thankful to have your family by your side as you dealt with Sarge and Izel, none of you having properly recovered from Coulson’s death and now having to go head-to-head with a man with his face. It had felt like your most difficult task yet, with Jemma off rescuing Fitz and the Shrike’s presence on earth, but you had made it out unscathed. 

Well, mostly unscathed. You had been a bit injured in the battle at the temple, and Jemma had insisted on doing a full-body check-up before clearing you for fieldwork in the 30s. Yes, the 1930s, because apparently it was the perfect time to add “traveling back in time” to your list of absolutely insane things you’ve done since you first stepped on the Bus. That’s when she noticed. 

“Uh, y/n?” Jemma spoke, the professional demeanor she normally assumed when performing medical on the team breaking to show her confusion and concern. “When did that happen?”

“When did what happen? Oh...” Your words died in your throat when you looked down to where Jemma was pointing. 

The mark on your wrist— the mark that had always been white, the mark who’s mystery you had somewhat made peace with— was now red.

“H-how is that possible?” You were scared. You thought you should probably be thrilled, you had a soulmate after all but instead you were terrified. The fear seeped into your bones and you thought you might puke.

“I have no idea,” Jemma answered honestly before sensing your distress and tacking on, “but, we’ll do some tests and try to get to the bottom of it. We never find out what the white meant, maybe this was always in the cards for you.”

The results of this round of testing felt somehow more confusing than the first. Biologically, nothing about your mark had changed and yet it was undeniably red. Jemma had tried to reassure you both by reminding you that the science of soulmarks was basically nonexistent anyway but it was clear by her panicked expression and your churning stomach that it wasn’t working. 

Entirely lost as to what was happening to you, Jemma pulled you from field work. At some point you had wondered if you were missing the chance to meet your soulmate while you were stuck in the med bay but you brushed it off. If you actually had a soulmate, would it even be worth it to meet them only to be ripped away when the Zephyr jumped again? You weren’t sure you could handle that kind of heartbreak, and you had already gone this long with a half a heart. 

When you arrived in the 50s you put up no fight when your teammates left the Zephyr without you. You had already made up your mind on the matter. However, fate, it seemed, had a different plan.

You were really just wandering aimlessly around the Zephyr. You’d needed a break from the chaos of the team’s time travel escapades and most of the team was currently fighting off chronicoms in the train below you. 

You hadn’t even realized they had returned until you had meandered into the ramp and storage area of the Zephyr and ran smack into a stranger. You thought he might’ve said something, maybe “woah” or “look out” but you couldn’t tell through the sudden pounding in your ears. 

Had you had time to think you might’ve remembered him from your freshman year history course at the Academy. But you didn’t have time because as soon as you bumped into the man you felt the undeniable need to vomit and you turned and bolted from the room. You were thankful the bathroom was where it was as you barely made it before you were spilling the contents of your stomach into the toilet. 

Then someone was beside you, holding your hair away from your face and rubbing your back soothingly as you puked. 

“Thanks, Jemma,” you breathed, your eyes clenched shut as you leaned over the toilet bowl, praying you wouldn’t start puking again. The pounding in your ears was gone but your whole body felt different. 

Jemma stiffened at your words and muttered a quick apology as she backed away. Except that was definitely not Jemma’s voice. 

Your eyes flew open as you scrambled away from the toilet, pressing your back against the bathroom wall as you stared wildly at the stranger. It seemed your brain had finally caught up with you as you recognized the man as Daniel Sousa, SHIELD agent, former partner of Peggy Carter, and the man your team had been trying to protect from the chronicoms. 

“Wh-what are you doing?” You spluttered and Sousa blushed, looking away awkwardly. 

“I-I’m sorry,” he stuttered out himself, “You were just…” he gestured to the toilet, “and, well, i t-think we’re…”

“What?” 

“Y’know…”

You did not know. You had never felt more confused in your life. This man, who you had never met before had followed you into the bathroom to hold your hair while you threw up, and his words did nothing to explain his strange actions. 

Rather than try to explain verbally, he pulled up his jacket and shirt sleeves to reveal his wrist. 

“I think we might be…” he nodded down to the full red heart prominently displayed on his inner arm.

As if on instinct, you looked down at your wrist, breath catching in your throat as you started at the matching red heart now tattooed on your skin. Your soulmark was not only red but it was whole. You suddenly realized why you felt so different: your world had finally shifted into place. 

“Oh god this has to be the worst possible way to meet your soulmate,” you groaned, slightly shocked that you were able to speak let alone joke when you thought for certain you should be crying after all the hell your soulmark had put you through. 

Thankfully Sousa laughed. “I’m just thankful to have finally met you.” 

The way he looked at you was so sincere that you swore your heart stopped right there. You stayed that way for a moment, him looking at you like you hung the stars and you wondering when death would greet you because surely it wasn’t possible to go this long without a heartbeat. 

Then he cleared his throat. 

“I’m Daniel Sousa,” he introduced, reaching out a hand to you which you took gratefully. 

“Y/N Y/L/N,” you introduced yourself. “We should probably get off the bathroom floor.” 

Daniel laughed again and your heart warmed at the sound. You clambered up to your feet before reaching out a hand to help him up, thankful to your subconscious for remembering that Daniel Sousa was an amputee and probably shouldn’t be plopping on the floor to help vomiting strangers, soulmates or not.  

“Um, I need to brush my teeth, or get a mint, or something,” you rambled embarrassedly as you stood in the middle of the bathroom, suddenly very aware that you had just vomited and not only could you taste it but he could probably smell it and oh god.  

Daniel graciously let you go and you reassured him that you’d find him when you were done. 

___

You had heard others talk about finally feeling “whole” when they met their soulmate but you disagreed. You had always been whole, but now you felt full. The constant ache in your chest (that you honestly hadn’t even realized was abnormal) had suddenly vanished. You felt lighter and you could’ve sworn the world seemed a little brighter. 

Technically it had been decades since the two of you had met but it had really only been a few months, though it felt like you had known Daniel your whole life. You supposed in some way you had, you were meant to be two halves of a whole after all. Regardless of timing, after years and years as a SHIELD agent, throwing yourself headfirst into danger at every opportunity you couldn’t imagine something as domestic as this. 

The two of you were cuddled up together on the couch of your shared apartment. Saturday night had become movie night, a chance for you to catch your soulmate up on all the media he had missed between the 50s and the present. The end credits of Monsters Inc played in the background as he leaned down to kiss you softly. You melted into the kiss, the feel of his lips on yours the only thing rooting you in reality. This moment, your soulmate, the perpetual feeling of content, was real and it was yours. 

[phoenixfire-thewizardgoddess]

31 Days of Apex Legends

Little bit behind, but I combined Days 1 & 2 (Pride & Friendship)

Chapter 1 of an upcoming fic I am still writing.

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

Title: Pride & Assumed Prejudice

Chapter 1: Masks

Something sour lingered on the tip of his tongue, on the razor’s edge of every thought; like a granule of poison sinking slowly into a beverage, unseen as the hapless victim takes a sip. Unnecessary, unnerving, and oddly enough, inducing a curiously debilitating sensation of anxiety for the first time in well over a decade. An emotion long-ago thought cordoned off, and utterly aggravating in its resurgence.

One could theoretically shut it out with enough mental fortitude and regimented distraction, but this tended to only provide short-term relief, for it always returned; faster, stronger, more pervasive than the last time. A creeping sense of wrongness that seemed to seep through every vein, clutching tightly to each breath as it worked to enter his lungs, twisting his stomach at random intervals, and reigniting old memories best left buried in unmarked graves. Unmourned and unwelcome.

At least, that is what Caustic tells himself.

There seems to be some level of psychological impairment at work, he rationalises in the depths of the night when he can barely think for the voiceless fears that make his heart race and air withdraw from ravaged lungs before it can fully impart its gift. The only hypothesis that makes even the vaguest sense is that there is likely a chemical agent of some kind, a poison, being introduced into some facet of his daily routine that is affecting his mental faculties?

Caustic is perplexed to find that his bloodwork runs clean each time, as do random samples of his food stores, lab equipment, clothing, cleaning products, furniture, air filtration units, plants and even toothpaste. Though he runs them often, at random, in hopes of locating the culprit for these uncomfortable sensations, these distractions from his research. Randomising events on his mental schedule each day in order to avoid any other human or non-organic being from identifying his routine again; if they ever even had. And yet, it persists.

Denial is perhaps the only shield that he will not admit to using, in this instance. Though for all his great logic, his knowledge and emphatic belief in the fundamental laws of science… there is still a strange feeling that persists in coursing through his veins. If he would allow himself but a moment to acknowledge it, to let it in and experience the sensation then it may lead to a breakthrough… but at what cost? If the facade falls, then who would he be?

Yet still his whole body feels electrified from within; as if sensing a change coming, like the increased atmospheric pressure before a thunderstorm. Everything that had been built was starting to decay, and it was not clear why now, why this year… why this ridiculous event was the catalyst. Even though such an obvious connection between this heightened emotional state and the particular time of year never actually occurred to the unnaturally overwrought man.

As the days between the present and the event grew shorter, and the other Legends began to ramp up their ridiculous displays of personal expression, the odd physiological effects increased exponentially, until simply existing in the same dwelling had become almost unbearable. It was merely because the others were younger, more prone to ludicrous displays of ebullience, constantly impeding his research with their tomfoolery… yes, that must be it. The reassurances ring hollow, even to his own mind.

Yet still the simple fact remained… that the year previous, as a new Legend, this whole event had been laughably easy to ignore. So why did it bring such distress, such melancholy? What variable had changed between these two points in time that was bringing this insidious juggernaut of disruption to his mind, body and experiment schedule?

Despite what he, at the time, perceived as his best efforts to provide a front of general indifference and borderline contempt for the ‘nonsensical festivities’ of the majority of the other Legends; it became apparent that these actions were not nearly enough to stave off the eyes of the irritating coworkers. Without even realising, Caustic was shrinking away, becoming distant once more and this, in turn, naturally raised a few eyebrows.

Certainly, he was not the most extroverted or beloved amongst their ranks, but at the insistence of Miss Pacquette, that damnable Gibraltar, and the unerringly difficult to evade Salvonian he had been making small forays into socialising in the name of increasing battle compatibility with the others. In the name of increasing battle efficiency, of course.

Caustic’s sudden detraction from even the few low-key communal activities he had begrudgingly begun to attend on a generally regular basis in their shared lodgings, such as the occasional movie night or weekly shared meal, was a blatant signal to the more empathetic and suspicious of the Legends that something was not right here. Some moved immediately to paranoid delusions, others queried if the scientist was unwell or had been caught up in work and forgot; Caustic could always feel Miss Pacquette’s eyes on him these days. Waiting for him to do something she could no longer forgive.

The sting of her derision only made matters worse, silencing all explanations he might give to the others when they arrived at his assigned room; so that all any who arrived saw was a brief silhouette before the door slammed shut in their faces. Assuming hostility, when the words were simply trapped inside; not wanting to admit this disgusting weakness that clawed, bit and screamed every moment of every day.

However, it was the unintended actions that gave rise to what came next; and he could blame none other than himself. For, as the foolish often do, a handful of those in the complex began to conjecture… rumour, if you will, and they spread like an unchecked wildfire. Caustic was not able to tell if they had been an errant thought turned unintentionally malicious or the deliberate attempt of one of his detractors like Loba or Crypto; and as much as he wished to close off the side of himself that felt anguish at these new beliefs swirling between his coworkers… he could not.

To say the rumours were incorrect would be an understatement, but even he could see how the gossip-mongers amongst their ranks had extrapolated a tenuous but alluring hypothesis that slandered his character, from such limited data points as were available. Especially after their foray to… the planet of his youth, most recently.

It seemed wherever he went, that blasted Crypto seemed to be hovering nearby with a smug look on his face; as if waiting for the opportune moment to mention a few inconvenient truths. Did the younger man realise what was happening to him? Could he use that drone of his to deliver a toxic compound into Caustic’s chambers when the scientist was absent? No, no of course not. Mystik would never forgive him… unless he could provide a plausible alibi. Even that particular train of thought was beginning to wear on him, feeling more tangible each time his brain brought the concept up. Actual poison was not the hacker’s style; but social poison, the slow and cruel kind that seeped from mouth to mouth, assassinating without a blade… that might be plausible.

These days, Caustic found his pulse always quickened when he caught sight of the hacker in the living complex, the anxiety making his mind rush through the worst possible scenarios of his secret being openly divulged to the masses without warning; even though some seemed utterly ridiculous. What would happen, after all? The worst case scenario? Repulsion from the others would be one thing, a natural consequence of their newfound awareness of his misdeeds and discovering the depths of his past, somewhat less than legal, activities. A strong possibility that perhaps the Legends would take the rash step of immediately contacting authorities to attend the Legend dwellings; something even Caustic would understand as rational.

Yet still, with his normally formidable intellect being absolutely and utterly subsumed under false assumptions and fallacies; the kind only a mind shuddering on the verge of collapse could generate… far worse fates arose like apparitions behind his eyelids. Such as the bizarre and somewhat infuriating insistence of his anxiety-ridden mind that the other Legends could hear of his past and simply decide to take matters into their own hands; pretending all is well until an opportunity arose to publicly execute Caustic themselves, mid-match with his beacon deactivated, for all the world to see. To denounce him in such a way that none could ever assume they had kept his secret; the disgust on their faces as they would wipe his blood from their skin would be proof enough.

Often in the depths of night Caustic muses on this highly improbable outcome. Yet, he finds that the variable of the scenario that keeps him awake is simply that, in this outcome there was the uncomfortably very real possibility of his Mother inadvertently bearing witness to the second death of her son; a thought that makes his chest constrict with a nameless horror. She loved to watch the games, according to that brat she favoured so much… and he could not put her through that grief again.

No matter how nonsensical, the idea and an uncountable number of similarly impossible scenarios would repeat over and over again every waking moment of the day. And again throughout every second of sleep he managed to wrest from this endless void of uncertainty, until it felt like the only true outcome. Caustic was aware he was not thinking logically, or even assessing all the variables… but his mind clouded it all out with whispered worries to distract, to isolate and distress.

These imagined ends and their outcomes added an almost unfathomable heaviness to his existence; adding unearned gravitas to the myriad of little concerns, worries and secret guilts until they felt like a thick fog that obscured all rational thought. Every little concern, so often hidden from his own conscious mind by a never-ending series of experiments and day-to-day tasks he employed to quiet the thoughts he did not wish to entertain, was now screaming inside. Some days he felt not unlike a speaker, reverberating from the harsh beating of his heart, and almost surprised none other than himself could hear.

No, this was ridiculous. He could not allow this to continue, not if he wished to remain Caustic. As a Legend, as a researcher with endless funding as long as he gave the right results in battle, as a scientist seeking additional data, and… as reluctant as Caustic was to admit it, as a member of the rag-tag team that shared the Apex-funded lodgings. A collective, almost like a-...

The thought always shut off there, twisting to a rapid mental analysis of the other Legends for the sake of anything else to focus on. Certainly some of the other ‘champions’ were irritating and he found it difficult to deal with them for long; but others he had to concede were fascinating, and startlingly brilliant in their fields, many of whom were willing to engage in discussions about their expertise and experiences. Even with mild distrust guarding their words to begin with, until passion for the subject overtook their misgivings.

But, as loathe as he was to admit this to even himself; to Caustic... the legends themselves were something he was starting to feel part of. Somewhat like they were a-... the word lodged in his chest like a blunt knife, something that could cause harm if he ever admitted how far he had fallen into the illogical void of social intelligence. He railed against the term, but logically it was the only apt one available to describe this group of strange people; and that was… family.

Bile scorched the back of his throat as he allowed the thought to flow through him like a soundwave, the sentiment of it far more distressing than the physical sensations; as Caustic been under the strong impression of having successfully managed to cut off all sense of sentimentality, along with his fingers, on Gaea. This feeling, this potential vulnerability, was therefore repulsive.

However… it could not be denied that recently the increased socialisation had brought out some surprising connections and insights with the others. Even simple interactions such as providing a gruff thank you to a teammate for pinging a weapon component whilst looting was noted by the others; and the way that Caustic made certain to inoculate his squadmates before a match. Inconsequential activities, but seen… apparently. He had never noticed their eyes on him during these moments before… and now he felt as if they never ceased their burning gazes on his every breath, every twitch and thought.

As it stood, he was closer to some Legends than others; and had forged several, somewhat tenuous but holding, connections he was not wholly ashamed to admit.

For example, Caustic found Horizon’s expertise on astrological matters an excellent way to pass sleepless nights, when both found themselves in the kitchen for coffee at 2am. Minds full of half formed ideas, or regrets, and unable to speak them aloud to anyone; there was an odd companionship between the Legends, so close in age and so vastly apart in lived experiences. Or, at the least, the experiences of their alibis.

Even through the distress he felt, Caustic could not help but smile as he recalled that their first two meetings at such a location and hour had not gone quite so well as in recent times. For the good Dr Somers had been blissfully unaware that a rather prominent side effect of Caustic’s initial and continued toxin exposure often expressed itself as a bright green glow about his irises; therefore the first time they had met in the pitch-black kitchen at an ungodly hour, the astrophysicist had said some truly profane things and thrown a mug of hot coffee in his direction. Lifeline had not been pleased to deal with burns at that time, no matter how Horizon had insisted they needed a proper assessment of the damage, but the young woman seemed to have found the whole situation quite humorous in hindsight. Often making smart ‘Be careful, Doctor, that’s hot!’ quips when she caught either of them holding coffee.

Ah, but their second meeting of this nature had been different. Caustic had merely been resting his eyes at the kitchen island when Horizon had carefully crept inside the darkened room, footsteps barely audible, and proceeded to make herself coffee on the quietest setting possible. It was, in fact, the sound of her sipping the beverage that had roused Caustic, and Horizon had promptly performed an almost perfect spit take in shock at his ‘sudden appearance’. The stain in the wall had never quite come out and neither of the older Legends had bothered to inform the younger Legends how it had manifested. Though some had their suspicions...

There was a calming energy to Dr Somers, and she seemed to have a distance in her eyes that he could relate to without ever broaching the subject. When they spoke of stars, of technology to traverse the time and space between the worlds, there was a communion of unspoken camaraderie there that soothed in an inexplicable manner.

Of the others, Caustic had occasionally found himself ensconced in fascinating discussions and discourse with Mirage when the pair had found themselves trapped in a social setting, such as lunch in the common area, fumbling for topics. Or more accurately, Mirage visibly sifting for a safe topic to be polite, and Caustic pointing at whatever the man was tinkering with at that moment, in silent question. It was rather intriguing how the younger man’s stutter settled when he was intensely focused on a subject he enjoyed. Although it must be said that now the scientist knew entirely far too much about holographic projection technology, and he was hard pressed to find an application for just such knowledge in his research.

On a more irritating note, was Gibraltar’s continued attempts to convince Caustic that attending events such as karaoke night or some roleplaying adventure evening with the rest of the Legends would be fun, positive, and a good bonding experience; and not at all humiliating, bizarre or definitely subjecting himself to the mortifying ordeal of being known by the other champions. Disgustingly, Makoa Gibraltar was a weapons-grade optimist with a sharp mind behind that disarming smile of his.

Recognising that the current stratagem was not working as it allowed the subject too much free will, Gibraltar had added additional variables to his socialisation experiments with Caustic. Even since, Gibraltar had been occasionally dropping by with a small portion of some homemade meal or other; often with one of the other Legends as an unspoken form of backup. More often than not, in recent times, Fuse would be the person of choice.

The rescue specialist was a very large, very polite man who had gracefully accepted the times Caustic would shut the door in his face to avoid allowing anyone to breach his inner sanctum of isolation and research. Walter Fitzroy was decidedly not.

Fuse was a very charming man, but he genuinely believed that any closed door was an invitation to trial his knuckle clusters on it, ‘in the name of friendship’. The pair would then invite themselves inside, and somehow a conversation would occur about the most randomised of topics, amidst the hidden garden-like interior of Caustic’s quarters. After weathering the scientist’s myriad of multisyllabic protestations about property damage and right to privacy, with mildly amused expressions on their faces, of course. Now that he thought about the subject in detail, the visits had been increasing in duration rapidly in the past two months or so; detracting from his research, yes, but at the same time… Caustic had begun to find himself not wanting to reduce this contact in the slightest.

Rampart had recently asked Caustic, in a quiet moment, if he wanted something strong enough to withstand a knuckle cluster barrage whipped up, because he was more often without a door than with one these days. Caustic had found himself smiling under the mask as he declined; not catching her sly grin of understanding in response. “It’s your funeral mate…” she teased as she left. He still had not had a chance to analyse her meaning or motives in relation to that interaction.

Still skeptical of his motives, but warming, was Lifeline. On the odd occasion, the healer would simply come into the common area to ‘hang out’ with whomsoever was present, and initially this had been a frustrating strain on his limited social endurance. Especially if the runner joined in, or she decided that the volume was far too low for her chosen programs at the time. They had engaged in arguments, which tended to resolve when he left, seeking solitude and silence in his own quarters.

Although, to review the past month or so in subjective data; Caustic was intrigued to find himself less irritated by Lifeline’s choice of audible and visual entertainment than previously.

However, the woman’s unerringly pleasant but smug grin as she would turn and catch Caustic’s fingers tapping the datafile laden table in subconscious adherence to the rhythm of the background music, was still a nuisance. At present, if he attempted to tell her so, Lifeline would laugh or roll her eyes and throw a quick, ‘Whatever yuh say, Doctor…’ in his direction.

Caustic believed that the newfound camaraderie between Lifline and himself was either in relation to a number of recent matches wherein he had had to shield her bodily from a hail of incoming fire while she revived a teammate; or pertaining to his begrudging assistance in formulating an altered version of stim for Octane, with lower health impacts. While it seemed counterintuitive to his stated goal of wiping out humanity; the challenge of forcing a volatile substance into a different composition to improve health on use rather than detract from it, had been exhilarating. While the current formula, Stim 2.3, was by no means perfect, it could always be improved in future testing. In fact, Caustic had been surprised to find himself looking forwards to improving upon the newly created formula with Miss Che in future. Her mind was agile, quick and experienced around medical, political and Octane-related matters. Verbal sparring with Miss Che was akin to mainlining caffeine, and possibly her persuasive arguments may have something to do with how thin his facade was feeling at present. How he was starting to regret his actions, when previously they were buried deep, untouchable, as Lifeline skillfully pointed out fallacies in his logic and ideologies.

Of all the Legends, the hunter Bloodhound, he hunter, was a mystery that continued to intrigue and distract from his research. Caustic had honestly been certain that there it would be highly improbable for the pair to have anything in common; given they were from a world that despised the very technology that his homeworld had embraced with open arms.

He had also felt that perhaps the hunter would avoid him, given Gaea’s reputation around such things as diversity in attraction and gender identification; he knew what was said and not all of it undeserved.

Somewhat surprisingly, it was a shared interest in plants that began their interactions; as the hunter had peered from their room at the right moment to catch Caustic returning home with a new specimen of unknown origin. The GAVN 1.2 bot stationed at the nearby Solace City plant nursery had no knowledge of what species it may be of, but the important matter was that the machine had recalled Caustic’s request to contact him if anything ‘interesting’ came through. Bloodhound had stopped him to ask how a Crentular Vynth bush had made its way to this planet; and Caustic had been so distracted by the conversation that followed that he did not realise they had moved to Bloodhound’s room until his second cup of herbal tea.

That had been the oddly auspicious beginning of… whatever this was. Whether they were now coworkers, or something slightly below comrades in arms, their companionship had been cemented nearly a full three months later on Olympus, when a bullet shattered Caustic’s mask mid-match.

Things had not been going optimally at the time. Their third squadmate was dead; some nameless human who had dreamt of glory and fame, and was now likely in a respawn pod beyond the arena commiserating their loss with the other failures.

Bloodhound was in the process of scouting for activity within and without the building they were currently camping inside; at the far end, if the faintest of footsteps could be believed. Skirting carefully about Caustic’s traps despite the pre-match inoculation provided that assured temporary immunity for the other two.

He had been calculating the potential ring trajectory of the next round, and automatically reloading the mozambique in his hands mechanically, when a careless step had placed him directly before one of the many damnable slatted windows of the building. The first he became aware was a crack, and a split-second realisation that made him jerk back just in time for the kraber shot to hurl his mask clean off and away.

Ducking automatically, not risking a second looking for the person who was definitely chambering a new round in anticipation of taking him out, Caustic had snatched the shattered mask up and slid through the rails to the floor below. Landing with a jarring impact that raised dust, forced air from his lungs, and inspired a violent coughing fit. Panic began to stir, as the reality of his vulnerability became apparent.

To counter this, Caustic set off a nearby gastrap deliberately, obscuring himself amidst the swirling green smog; allowing a moment to focus purely on the issue at hand, and forestall the intense anxiety that the cameras could be observing his features or condition too closely. He could already see the mask was beyond repair, the hoses hissing upon his shoulders as his filtered supply fed into nothing; despair was starting to claw at his chest, tightening it until it burned...

And then Bloodhound was there. Without a word, those impassive goggles took in the scene in its entirety as they crouched down by his side; pulling a small spare mask from one of the many pouches on their belt, without the slightest hesitation, and pressing it to Caustic’s face. “Here, breathe easy felagi fighter.” they said, nothing more, nothing less.

The filtration hoses hissed a moment more before the hunter had them shut off at the valve, so as not to waste more of the carefully balanced components. The mask adhering quickly and filtering the more violent components out of the air automatically; as Bloodhound needed, given their own damaged airways. Caustic may not believe in their All-Father, but he could almost admit to himself that it was very fortuitous they had been there that day.

When the smog cleared, vanishing as it dispersed to a minimal level, the crisis was over and his panic subsumed. Bloodhound clapped a hand to his shoulder and rose, making a statement of thanks in relation to receiving ammunition. A weak cover, but one they hoped viewers would be satisfied with; feel no great desire to dig for more information on this brief ‘green-out’.

“Come, there are three squads remaining, we have foes to slatra.” they offer, and he rises quickly to follow. Win or Lose, Caustic had felt confusingly like he had already received some small victory that day; though to put it in words was beyond even his skill.

Unfortunately, the downside of increased awareness of other human beings was that they tended to request opportunities to strengthen the bond. Of all things, the Hunter and the Salvonian now wished Caustic to go camping with them; in Kings Canyon or some equally feral locale, where they may all die of undercooked food or rabid wildlife. As disagreeable as he found the idea, Caustic found himself rapidly running out of excuses as to barriers that would forestall his presence on such an experience. And just the other day, before this intense sensation of dread descended, he found himself considering purchasing a prowler-proof sleeping bag… which had been a definite call for self-reflection at the time.

Indeed, when he thought back over the past few months… Caustic found that he had had at least one small interaction of moderate-to-positive success with all of the other Legends. Even with that know-it-all Crypto. Though Caustic strictly maintained that the whole scenario had been pure happenstance; and not any display of coworkerly or implied sibling affection.

If the young brat had just so happened to be tinkering with his little drone at the kitchen island and required a tool that Caustic, also present and working on his own project, had just so happened to have on him at the time… so be it. Truly, Caustic was not even certain if Park had realised who had supplied the multitool that had readily slipped into his grip on request; although, the fact that it had been returned nonetheless to his quarters, possibly by drone through a window he had forgotten to close overnight, gave a different impression.

Ironically, whenever Caustic finds himself thinking about the other Legends recently, shades of distress, distrust and uncertainty began to fill his limbs with lead and his mind with a million illogical questions. Did Loba’s smile at breakfast mean she was intending to out him to the others? Was it normal for Revenant to ask to view his research on gases with compounds that could corrode organic metals? Was the laughter between Wattson and Wraith about him? What made Bangalore watch him instead of the screen during the movie night two weeks before? Why did so many whispers stop when he moved closer? When was the last time Gibraltar had used the phrase ‘hey buddy, you doin’ okay?’ with any other Legend?

Who. When. Why. How. What. An endless merry-go-round in a carnival of horrors, all of his own devising… and there was no way to signal to the ride operator that he wished to exit. What was wrong with him?

Or, was there something wrong with him, at all?

Perhaps this was normal, for someone whose life was close to its ending. Didn’t people feel distress over regrets and mistakes in their life?

Desperate for a concrete reason, Caustic ran diagnostics on his blood and biometrics at least twice a day, and yet felt disappointed to find no significant progression in the disease. For if not the disease… then what was this?

Days wore on as he remained confined to his quarters for all but the most necessary outings. He did not see or hear how the household was becoming more and more colourful and the Legends pre-celebrating. Glancing out his window at the billboards in the city beyond, his lip curled derisively; ah, the corporations became more sycophantic as time wore on, disgusting. But all he could focus on was the manner in which this swelling sensation of anxiety was drowning him; Caustic was awash in a sea of tumultuous negative emotions with no sign of rescue. Quietly hoping that none would come.

It felt, constantly, as if he had an anchor bound to his ankles; the chain a cruel twisting thing, cold and rattling in the currents, always just long enough so he could bob above the despair for short periods of time before another wave crashed down. Caustic was beginning to wonder if it was worth trying not to drown at all...

Unbeknownst to the scientist, his absence was noted, and some were more concerned than others. The sudden withdrawal from household life drew attention from concerned parties with irritating accuracy; and he found himself subject to gentle half-questions that sent his blood pressure skyrocketing, his hands balling into fists to hide their shaking, and his mind racing to decode the hidden trap within the questions. Overwhelmed, Caustic responded by pulling back from the internal life of the Legends with greater fervour, trying to handle this situation himself; hating that it had come to such a ludicrous turn of events as this.

It was only when he was in the depths of despair and fighting to hide this from himself, that Caustic himself began to hear the rumours swirling about. Abhorrent, pervasive, and inaccurate… but easily believable if you lacked critical thinking skills. They made him feel more vile and misrepresented than the original advertisement campaigns for his arrival as a legend ever had. All that fabricated nonsense about being a verified and diagnosed sociopath; when it was only partially true, mixed with showman’s flare for the sake of selling him as the villain to the public. But these rumours… gossip rag conjecture, utter debasement and filth. Easy to believe… and in the mouths, hearts and minds of the people he had somewhat began to trust.

~)0(~

“It ain’t his fault, he’s from Gaea, yuh know?” whispers one legend to another, in a tone so casual that the sentence was doubly alarming to have come from seemingly out of nowhere. Caustic nearly drops the mug he is holding, mind shocked into momentary pause, at the statement. At the implication behind it.

The other sighs, “I know they’re, uh, different about things… but I thought that being in Solace City this whole time might have…” There’s a pause. “Well, you know, shown him a different reality… he’s already made progress in being an okay human, or something like it. Thought things were going okay, caught him smiling at one of Rampart’s jokes the other day… ”

“Yuh best keep it quiet though, don’t want the media gettin’ wind of this or it’ll be a problem.” hisses the first, acutely aware of how the media at large takes any vague hint of something, right or wrong, and runs with it. For the last six months magazines had been declaring that she was ‘going to propose to Wraith anyday now’ because they’d been snapped shared a sandwich at a Legend event a while back. The online forums were a constant minefield, even if some of the fanart was well-done.

“Oh yeah, I’m not going to put anyone through that deliberately, my dearest fiance-to-be…” the other laughed back. “You think surprise-portalling him into the middle of the parade would help? Or do Gaeans drop dead if confronted with new ideas without any warning?”

Just as despair was filling his heart like a lead weight, the rumours like tiny knives in his heart, filleting the memories he held about someone now lost… another combatant enters the ring. So to speak.

“Enough!” snaps a third, highly unexpected but nonetheless welcome, voice. The word hissing between what can only be clenched teeth, in a normally serene face.

Caustic finds himself holding his breath as he presses close to the kitchen wall nearest the common room entrance; desperate to hear more, despite his stomach churning, wanting him to flee this whole situation. It boggled the mind, after all he had done… Miss Pacquette, coming to his defence? How could she find it in herself to speak on the behalf of such as him?

“Listen to me, and hear me when I say that not all of Gaea’s citizens think in such a backwards manner… you cannot assume because people are poor, from a small place on their world, or work on farms that they all perceive things so narrow-mindedly. There is acceptance on Gaea, in much the same way that there are pockets of intolerant people on Psamanthe and Salvo who believe that robots are not sentient, or people of different races cannot be allowed to love one another. There are good people there too...” Wattson says, voice rising with the internal fervour of righteous anger. She was so very like her father, unable to allow someone she cared about to go undefended when people brought slander to their doorsteps. If someone raised a knife to his back, she would put up a fence to bar their way, and then continue to tell him off for his inappropriate actions from the months before.

In the brief silence following her statement, shuffling is heard, and it is clear something is happening though he dare not attempt to see in. He would be sighted for certain.

In a calmer tone, almost too soft, Wattson continues. “I once knew a man from Gaea when I was very small. He was… very important to my Papa, and to me. They worked together for many years, and I believe that they loved each other just as deeply as Papa and Mama did. He was always very kind to me, like a father you could say, even on his darkest days he was always ready to make me feel happy.” She took in a shaky breath. “Many of my youngest memories involve him, from my first baking soda volcano, to my recovery from the ‘ghost’ incident; not to mention the first attempt to create my sparks… and then the hour or so we spent resetting the powergrid for the whole map due to the short we made. He was a good man, if very obsessed with his work; as Papa was. Driven, you could say.” She sighed sadly, in a way that made even Caustic’s shaking arms want to wrap around the younger woman in comfort. “But he was forced to go home many years ago because he was having a disagreement with the company overseers about a new project they assigned to his research team. He was so angry when he left, and I wish I could have had a happier memory to keep of him. I only discovered later why he was so… you see, Papa mentioned that his team was assigned the goal of manufacturing a way of purging unwanted biological urges through aerosolised disbursement in the general population, and, well… he did not agree.”

There’s a sharp inhalation of breath from a few too many voices for simply two other people to be present in the common room. Given what the ruling bodies of Gaea were known to stand against, it did not take much guesswork around the applications of such a project.

Caustic had always liked to break accepted ethical conduct on the odd occasion to get breakthroughs that pushed science to the edge of a new frontier, but even he had been abhorred by the very concept. Caustic closed his eyes, recalling the very arguments he had had with his then-superiors about the situation; and how he had even held out the ‘impeding human rights’ card as a final way to thwart the project. The cold smirk on thin lipped faces as he was informed that none who would be affected could be counted as a true human until they were cured of their odd notions… it was a miracle he had restrained from using his fists there and then.

His ‘compliance’ was bought with a simple reminder of how very important the company’s healthcare policy was to Caustic’s mother, at the time, and how it would be a shame to have it terminated alongside his employment. Feigning defeat, and hating himself, he had made a show of deferring to their wishes. Those pompous, self-inflated fools had taken him at his word. That was their first mistake.

Caustic jerks slightly, as if he has fallen out of his own memories and back to the present, bodily. Finding Miss Pacquette still speaking, her voice growing ragged with emotion.

“He… he died shortly after leaving us. I was devastated that he was gone, but even more so for the way it had happened. I could not imagine the fear and sadness he must have felt as the lab burned around him, with his entire research team. All they ever found was a charred corpse and two fingers that had enough DNA remaining to confirm his identity.” A soft sob shocked out, before she masterfully pushed it back. “U-Unfortunately for the company it seemed that all of his research and specimens on the topic burned with him; and some kind of alternate chemical residue coating the lab after the fire made the building unusable. Sometimes… I wonder if it was deliberate, for him to have taken it all with him. To be honest it would not surprise me in the least, he was as stubborn as Papa…” Natalie trailed off, clearly upset by the recollections. “Oh mon dieu, I do not mean to be so silly… I just miss him and Papa so much! And now you are all being so awful about the only person who… who reminds me of them, and I know he is difficult but there is good there, somewhere.”

Caustic’s teeth grind until it is agony. He longs to comfort her, even now as a full fledged adult and not the doe-eyed little girl who always wanted his attention... but how would that look to their comrades? Would she accept it after what he had tried to do? The anxiety wrings his stomach out like a wet rag, and locks both legs firmly in place. The scientist is disgusted with his weakness, debasing himself internally even as he countered with the simple truth of not being able to fight your own brain when it had decided on a Freeze response to distress.

He can clearly hear Lifeline and Wraith providing quiet soothing statements to Miss Pacquette, and it lessens his own distress over hers. Until he hears the one voice he would prefer never have been party to the conversation, speak up. “What was his name?” A general query, curiosity and a hint of foreboding there, as if the puzzle pieces were sliding together in the younger man’s mind.

Caustic’s heart freezes in his chest. Of all the Legends, why must Park be the one to overhear this tale? He who knows too much already...

There’s a soft muffled sniffle, muted most likely by Wraith’s shoulder, before Wattson replies; utterly unaware of how she was putting the final nail in his aliases’ coffin. “Oh, did I not say? His name was Alex… or I suppose Alexander. Dr Alexander Nox…”

The sound of Crypto’s drone clattering to the floor almost swallows the high pitched shattering of the ceramic mug meeting the kitchen floor. Almost, being the operative word.

By the time anyone has a chance to check the kitchen, Caustic has long since made a tactical retreat to his room. The racing thoughts feel like they are wrapped about his throat, constricting his chest until he can barely breathe. Hoping that none saw his frantic flight back to the safety of familiar walls.

~)0(~

[real-jaune-isms]

RWBY Volume 8 Chapter 2 Review/Rundown

Cr

I feel like this about sums up the general reaction after this week. So let’s dive into how it got out of hand so fast.

We open, a little surprisingly, on a shot we saw at the end of last Volume: Qrow looking at Clover’s bloody badge in his hand. We hear Robyn ranting and raving at someone about how this situation is all their fault, how all she wanted was to bring people together. She’s pacing in her cell, and at first you worry she’s turned on Qrow and hates him for fighting Clover and getting them both arrested, but no. She’s berating Jacques, and thank god someone is. He quotes his daughter in Volume 1 and claims he is a victim, but it was more endearing and memorable coming from the Ice Queen. He continues to assert his innocence, saying Watts used him and his power for diabolical purposes. Sure, he is guilty of many things, but he should not be held responsible for this. And at least his charges don’t include murder. That gets Qrow’s attention, since it was of course a dig at him. That quells Robyn’s fury rather quickly, and she does defend Qrow’s innocence. But she hops right back on the flame train and (while wonderfully insulting his mustache) says she’s not about to agree with the words of an accomplice to Watts’ sins against Mantle. Sure enough, the man of the hour is also in an adjacent cell, and he’s resigned himself to being stuck here like the rest of them. We get a look at where exactly “here” is, a 2 by 2 grid of square cells whose walls are Hard Light Dust shields. It’s a room that’s otherwise rather empty, and the Dust walls seem to be the only source of light. A very makeshift appearance, all things considered, and I worry about Watts being in a cell surrounded by Dust tech he might be able to manipulate. Then again, they took his rings, but he’s got to be pretty resourceful. Meanwhile, Jacques has all the confidence of a spoiled rich brat put behind bars for a misdemeanor. He’s quite sure Whitley will be rushing to get the family’s legal team on the case, and he’ll be out within... well we don’t know exactly how short he thinks his incarceration will last because Robyn gets pissed and punches the wall dividing them. That shuts him up rather well. And really, Jacques-ass? You’re putting your faith in a teenager to help overturn alleged war crimes? What an out of touch prick. 

All four of them are shaken from their particular trains of thought by an alarm buzzing and the door opening. Three guards file in, disengage one of the walls of Watts’ cell, and go inside to smack him with the muzzle of a gun and drag his ass outta there. Jacques cringes at the sight of such sudden violence, and Robyn looks momentarily surprised before seeming to accept this. Guess she didn’t expect Ironwood to be so ruthless so soon. She sits back on her bed, which looks like its just a hard slab, and laments being unable to do anything. But Qrow says there is something they can do: kill the man who put them here. To paraphrase Agent Washington, that has got to be the worst plan ever. Of all time. You’re already in jail on murder charges, and now you want to actually cross the line and kill THE LEADER OF A KINGDOM?!?!?! I realize that Ironwood has gone of the deep end and needs to be stopped, but this is not the way to do it. This will only lead to failure, I’m sure of it.

Meanwhile, we cut down to an Atlas news reporter doing a story in Mantle. He’s doing his thing, talking about the unprecedented Grimm hordes and Ironwood not doing anything about it yet. But just as he’s going on about the dedication of his station, the Atlas Eye, Joanna comes up and swipes his microphone to deliver her own message to the people. She tells it like it is, saying that the Happy Huntresses are here to offer aid when Ironwood will not, and spreading the word for people to gather what supplies they can and head for the crater. We see one of the kids from Jaune’s crosswalk scene, and thank goodness his mom is still alive. Joanna talks about all of Mantle coming together to hold the line against the coming Grimm, otherwise the storm at their gates will sweep in to wipe them all out. Yang’s group get into Pietro’s pharmacy, and open the door to the backroom to discover something that makes them very happy. As we saw from the promo clip several months ago, it’s three hoverbikes which we then see them riding through the streets. Yang’s a natural at it, driving up a ramp to do a cool flip off a wall much to Oscar’s panic and discomfort as some of her hair gets in his mouth. Jaune and Ren are... adequate by comparison. Noticing the purple glow of what I presume is Gravity Dust propelling them and allowing the bikes to hover, I wouldn’t be shocked if Yang gives hers a paintjob to be the new Bumblebee: Now with added shipping material! What’s far less pleasant to notice is the Grimm squatting like a gargoyle on the bridge they drive under. We see this thing on the rooftops in a few more shots and then... whooo boy. But we will get there. For now, the biker gang finds more people to protect and help on the journey through town to the crater. One of the Real Thirsty Moms has armed herself with a snow shovel and isn’t totally sure if the crater will be a safe place, but Yang puts on her bravest face to reassure her... just before the screams of people being chased by Grimm get her attention. It’s only two Sabyrs, and Jaune stops their progress by throwing a Hard Light shield spawning grenade that we can assume was with the stash of new gear earlier. Ren drops down to stab both Grimm to death and kicks the quickly deactivating grenade back to Jaune who uses the Gravity in his shield to draw it to him. Very handy with all the tools, bud. Oscar is worried the Grimm Salem has brought with her have already gotten this far into the city, but Yang rationalizes they’re stragglers from the big attack last night. Cuz yeah, we’re still only 12 hours or so removed from the climactic latter half of Volume 7. She doesn’t wanna take any chances though, and asks Ren if Jaune can amp his Semblance up so he can mask the whole crowd for the trip. Ever the realist, he gives a less than encouraging answer, but Jaune sees how badly these people need some hope and comfort. So he makes it into a reassuring promise that the trip will be totally safe and Grimm free. Good job, man. But in every crowd of people, there’s always... a Karen. In this case it’s a grandma who doesn’t want to go stay in the slums among the “animals”, she wants to go to Atlas dammit. But Yang has been waiting to berate someone after the morally grey argument with Ruby last episode, so she takes full advantage of this. This lady might want to be in Atlas, but it’s become clear that Atlas doesn’t want her or any of the other people in Mantle, whereas the Faunus in the crater are showing more kindness than she deserves and giving her a warm place to stay amid all these Grimm. That shuts her up quick, and her daughter (one of the Real Thirsty Moms!) nervously butts in to say that yeah, they’ll accept the offer and she’ll go get their stuff now. We fade to seeing the greyed out crowd walking down the street with Yang giving frontal support, Ren riding on Jaune’s bike in the midst of the crowd to mask outwards in a radius, and Oscar guarding the rear. Grandma Karen is still whining about having to go to the crater, but her daughter is trying to get her to pipe down.

Oscar laments how hard it’s been to get folks to cooperate, with Ozpin chiming in to say he’s preaching to the choir on this one, and that he’s becoming increasingly concerned about that challenge. Oscar grumbles about the unencouraging internal peanut gallery, and Oz gets right to the point. The teens all have every right to be mad at him for dipping on them in Mistral, none more so than Oscar himself, but that’s not what Oscar’s beef is about. He’s mad that he gave him false hope, that in the time Oz was gone Oscar was able to really start coming into his own as a fighter and a member of the team. But now he’s back and Oscar will go back to just being the vessel for the guy everyone really cares about. Oz acknowledges and validates that, but admits that he was never really gone at all so... the merging is still going. Oscar is gaining deep memories and what magic Oz has left, so it’s closer than ever. Neither of them want this to happen, but what can they do? Further up, Ren’s cloaking flickers for a second and Jaune checks on him. He’ll be fine, he’s just got a lot to focus on. Jaune tries to give him a pep talk, but silence is more needed here and Ren is a little snippy in saying so. Jaune seems pretty bummed that Ren is in such a state, but I can’t really say he’s mad at him. More upset with himself and his leadership. One member of his team left to do something else, and the other is in a mental funk he has no clear idea how to help him out of. That’d bum anyone out. Let’s talk about Ren for a moment, actually. I think part of the reason his semblance is working at less than 100% is the same reason he’s pissy with Jaune. He has too many emotions bottled up and he’s trying to ignore them for the sake of staying neutral and calm to be at his best. But if you force yourself to always be neutral, it becomes that much harder to shift into the zen needed for this power. He needs to let himself have emotional highs and lows so he can transition naturally into the middle ground. In other words, TALK ABOUT YOUR FEELINGS, BUDDY!!! It’s also been theorized that his semblance can work for more than just neutrality and he might be projecting his inner turmoil onto the crowd. But that’s yet to be proven. Oz appropriately closes out the scene by saying that they ALL need to figure out a way to work together, but something tells me that’s not coming for another 8 episodes at least.

Changing locales, we see Penny outside of a building with a puffing smokestack on the edge of the city. Turning around, we see where the city of Mantle ends and the slums of the crater begin, and how many people are making there way down from one to the other. But quickly look back, as Blake has just cut off the lock on the chain link gate to the building and May is leading our girl squad inside. That’s right, the one and only May Marigold is coming along on this mission so we get a chance to see her really show her stuff! Nora is grateful for the assist, but May assures her this plan would have definitely gotten Robyn’s backing judging by how much she talked about Amity Tower once she was in the know, so she’s all too happy to help get it up and running. And the Happy Huntresses can afford to be sending her for this, since Fiona has the rest of the team helping her out. The reminder that their partners are off doing a separate mission dampens Blake and Nora’s smiles though... Ruby worries about the safety of going into this place, but once inside Weiss gives the rundown. This is a subsidiary of the Schnee Dust Company that specializes in shipping packages of refined Dust from the mines up to various areas of Atlas through pneumatic tubes. And since it’s a small side business, the worker robots have no direct chain of command to Ironwood, just the Schnees. And Weiss’ grand plan for transportation up to the Atlas military base is something Ruby jokingly suggested back in Volume 2... mailing themselves to their destination. You’re becoming more like that dolt every day... and as a White Rose shipper I love it~ Blake takes this opportunity to rain on Weiss’ confident parade with a dig at the high percentage of buildings in Atlas the Schnee family must own at this rate, and Weiss refuses to comment on how many they actually don’t own. Glad to see Blake being playful like this, shows she’s really comfortable being back with the group again. Everyone spreads out to look for the tube they need, and Penny finds the one for Atlas Academy instead. It reminds her of the confrontations that were had there last Volume, and it clearly still bothers her. Ruby comes over to check on her, and incorrectly assumes Penny’s lamenting about friends fighting is regarding her and Yang. You may be the protagonist, but not everything is about you Ruby. Penny meant Ironwood, Winter, and the Ace Ops, the people Team RWBY had become such fast friends and trusted allies with in Volume 7. The people who are doing and saying such unkind things now, like Ironwood telling her people will die unless she does as she says. Maybe that’s why she’s lingering at this terminal, she’s debating giving herself up to him for the sake of others? 

Ruby is having none of this self blaming talk though, and turns Penny around to look her in the eyes as she assures her that no, that isn’t true at all, Ironwood was just saying it to hurt her and make her feel bad enough to come back. Penny admits that she misses the days when she was just the Protector of Mantle, that she now has so much heavy responsibility and duty thrust upon her as the Winter Maiden and she wishes she did not. She was struggling enough to find an identity as a normal girl, now she has a whole other identity to grapple with, it’s all truly unfortunate and sad. Holding her hands in a very similar way to how she did back when she first found out Penny was an android, Ruby assures her that she is still very much the girl she once was. She protected Mantle by taking the Maiden powers so they wouldn’t be misused to hurt the city. This seems to cheer Penny up a bit, and she thanks Ruby for it. The two have another nice hug, before Nora calls out that she’s found the terminal they need. Blake notes that this is the point of no return, and May asserts her confidence that between Penny’s capabilities with the computers they’ll encounter and her own invisibility Semblance they’ve got this in the bag. Penny doesn’t like being referred to as a secret weapon, or a weapon of any kind, but she says nothing about it. For now, let’s praise May for being sassy and cool and doing a cute little curtsy for style. Nora asks the important question of how the heck they’re gonna use this thing, and Weiss goes into tutorial mode again. Just lie back into the tube and hit the launch button, easy enough. Except she was sitting on the edge of the tube for a visual aid and Nora got bored. So ZOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM goes Weiss up the tube with a frightened screech. Everyone just watches in slack-jawed shock and confusion, but Nora immediately goes giddy at what has just happened and what will soon happen to the rest of them. I can’t imagine what Ruby and Blake must be thinking, not to mention what’s going through May’s mind with this being her first exposure to Nora being... Nora.

But that’s all we get of them for this episode, so Weiss is Schrodinger’s Heiress for the next week. We go to the crater as Joanna heads into a tent where Fiona is hunched over a map coordinating over comms with someone we’ve yet to meet named Crimson. As she finishes the call and whines over how stressful this all is, Joanna drops a small crystal of fire Dust into a sort of furnace and assures her that she’s doing a great job. Fiona absorbs the map into her hand of infinite holding and says Joanna’s big display on the news makes her more qualified for this job. Joanna laughs that off and says it was necessary to spread the word, which seems to be working judging by how many folks are arriving. The group they’re now noticing come in is the one Yang and her squad have just arrived with from Sector 7. The happy lamb does a happy hoppy dance hearing that they’ve already cleared out that sector, and admits her previous doubts that they could manage this much with only half their team. This hits a sore nerve for both Ren and Yang, and the former stomps off while the latter gives a passive aggressive response. They really need to address this soon or it’s all gonna explode in their faces... Oscar wisely changes the subject to ask how they’re managing to house and provide for all these people, and the two Huntresses give a rundown. They’re doing what they can with houses and shelters, and a lot of people are trying to make old mineshafts into someplace livable, and they’ve been looting SDC refineries for Dust to keep everyone warm. Unlike our own society, no one is getting arrested amidst the end of the world. But they substitute that with the terrifying dread of not knowing when the majority of the Grimm will finally attack, what they’re all waiting for. We and the teens know they’re waiting for Salem’s command, for an opening to cause the most damage. And the longer they wait the more the negative emotions build to draw them in. Clever clever, you old witch you. The ominous mood is interrupted by the badger guy from episode 1 running up to inform Fiona that another fight has broken out among the people. He’s voiced by RT founder Gus Sorola, and apparently he’s Fi’s uncle! She seems bummed about having to go break up another fight, but Joanna’s got this one covered. But problems keep coming, and Crimson reports in that there’s a group of Grimm coming in from the east that he can’t handle while transporting civilians. Yang and co are all to ready go get this off Fiona’s plate for her, and we cut to Yang being pursued by a Teryx. We soon see she’s leading it into an ambush, as Ren and Oscar come riding in at an intersection to toss a grenade baton beneath it which presumably contains air/wind Dust because it gets propelled upwards to crash into a bridge and fall back down stunned. Yang gets out of the way and Jaune charges in for the kill. With that job done, Fiona immediately has a new group for them to clear out on the west side. The kids are getting real tired of this constant rushing around killing Grimm, but its part of the job they made such a fuss about going to do so they gotta do it. Oscar points out what I mentioned before, the negativity from everyone worrying when Salem will strike is luring in the stragglers amongst the Grimm. Speaking of stragglers, three Sabyrs come charging up the street much to Ren’s annoyance. But before they can make contact, something gets their attention and they turn tail to run. This puzzles and concerns the team, since Grimm have never retreated before. Before they can finish asking themselves what the Grimm were running from, they get an answer. A large dog-like Grimm pounces on Oscar and starts mauling him and thrashing his body around. He tries to fight back, kicking at one of its legs, but it is unfazed and keeps hitting him until his aura is gone. We see this thing has no eyes to speak of, but it soon gains apposable hands and hind legs capable of bipedal movement. All the better to carry Oscar away with, and shockingly enough, all the better to hold him in front of it as a human shield when Yang comes charging in to try and save him. She has to swerve and avoid hitting the kid, but gets grabbed by the head and tossed against a wall. Ren is the next to attack, but his bullets do jackshit to its back and his “grapple into the enemy and pull myself at it for a kick” has never worked before and continues to not work now. The Hound, as it is named in the credits and in concept art, stretches out its arm much like the Nuckelavee back in Volume 4 and swats Ren away. Jaune is about to charge in too, but Yang warns him about the Hound’s shield tactic. He’s in disbelief, because they may have seen old Grimm that have gained beastial sentience but never this kind of sapience and creative thinking. Ren grabs his guns but the Hound holds Oscar up again to stop him. Ren, naturally, yells at the Grimm to give their friend back. 

But the Hound just stretches its neck with a few cracking sounds, and says “No”.

This leaves the huntsmen and huntresses in a silent stupor of shock and fear, and I would not blame them. If all of my world’s history has been telling me that the monsters I hunt are mindless beasts of violence and destruction, nothing more, that’s one thing. If I learn they were created by a deity solely for the sake of destroying my civilization and are nothing but his avatars of darkness and wreckage, that’s a big theological pill to swallow but I still know how these things always tend to act. If I am on 6 hours of sleep vs 28 hours of being awake, just had a big personal argument over what our job should be amidst the apocalypse, and now my entire understanding of the monsters I at least thought I knew how to handle is thrown out the window?????? Yeah, I would need a goddamn minute before I could think rationally and quickly again. So you’ll excuse me for giving Yang, Jaune and Ren a pass as they just stand there and watch the Hound grow bat-like wings in a very painful and goopy transformation that gets some goo on Oscar’s unconscious face and then climbs up a building with Oscar in its mouth to fly away. When they do recover their senses they hop on their bikes and chase after the beast at full speed, giving a hasty and vague apology to Fiona for having to go handle this emergency that she wouldn’t believe even if they told her. And that’s it, we have to wait a week or longer to find out if they catch this thing and get Oscar back. Judging from the intro, I’d say they won’t and he will be brought before Salem for torture. Fun!~ This definitely opens the door for brand new possibilities of what Grimm are capable of doing or being, and lots of people are theorizing the Hound is so intelligent because Salem stuck a person in there, possibly someone we thought was dead but perhaps isn’t? Who knows, we’ll have to wait and see.

Sorry it’s so late, but hope this is a good review.

[mohityng]

WHICH INSTITUTE IS THE BEST FOR AIRPORT GROUND STAFF IN DUBAI

 Airport ground staff work in the airline sector engaged in various roles at the airport. They ensure safety as well as comfort of the passengers, providing information related to airport ground, assisting disabled passengers, selling tickets and confirming reservations.

WINGSWAY TRAINING INSTITUTE IN DUBAI is the best institute offering courses for airport ground staff.This course offers an introduction to ramp service as well as standard and safety requirements you need to know to work on the airport.Upon completion of the course, you will acquire the following core skills i.e how the department of the airport work, ground staff working environment, standard ramp operations terminology, procedure for ground service task, handling manual and operation manual standards.

In order to enroll in this institute, the minimum qualification required is +2 passed in any stream followed by diploma in related fields. Candidates must be aged in a group of 18 years to 27 years. Ramp agent training course that offer various career opportunities i.e to work at any international airport across the world, get employed by an airline, get employed by any airport ground handling agents.

Airport ground staff must possess a healthy lifestyle,energy and stamina for working long hours. Calm and friendly personality is necessary to handle people and their belongings in pressure situations. Knowledge of more than one domestic and foreign language can prove an added asset for airport ground staff as he has to meet different people from different regions and cultures knowing different languages.

The salary of an airport ground staff depends on the type and size and the fields one is handling. In Indian domestic airlines one can expect an average salary between 35 thousands to 45 thousands starting and this can go 70 thousands upon one year of experience.International companies offer more than double the salary offered by the domestic airlines.

source: ramp agent training course