#but yeah its a nuclear plasma weapon of some kind

[numbersareimaginary]

You wrote up a FOIA request to look up information on a absurd nuclear weapon from the 60s? Can I marry you?

Nice anime girl you got there. Can I see her hands for a second. No?

*raising gun*

I said show me some hands. Now. Get your fucking hands up.

[mgrgfan]

Past of the future, future of the past...

Chapter 3: A hard day.

"Well, those three months were quite something," Anthony said, when the Space Shuttle finally stopped on the runway. "I mean, actual first contact situation, even if with humans!" "Falkis, shut it for now," Sarah mumbled. "We'll have to explain this all over again to our superiors, when we return to the Mossdeep." "Okay, whatever, miss Born-with-camera-in-hands." Several seconds after it, the hatch in the side of the vehicle opened, the astronauts were safely removed from their seats with Psychic of the service Alakazam and put into the wheelchairs on the ground. "Don't worry, guys'n'girls, it's just a precaution," sounded voice of professor Takao Cozmo, making Sarah and Samuel slightly cringe. Of course, this man was a genius, especially for someone, who just turned 20, but at times, he was just impossible to be around. "We know," all four astronauts, along with the rest of Shuttle's crew, replied in unison. Of course, they wondered, why this mission only took astronauts down and didn't bring fresh crew... ---- "Can you secure this thing now?" "Wait… yeah, I'm securing it." Captain Vasilyev hovered near the console, monitoring feeds from the helmet cameras of cosmonauts, along with their talks, and wondered, why exactly did it have to be yesterday for the station's backup power source, the nuclear fission reactor, to get stricken with some kind of space debris and get a total coolant leak. Of course, since the reactor wasn't activated for the entire duration of its staying in the station, there wasn't any imminent radiation hazard, but they still had to return it back to Zemlino Space Center for the inspection and repairs. Right now, Lozhkin, Migulya and Panasenko were removing the reactor and loading it into the opened payload bay of the Lenticular Return Vehicle. There was some sort of a strange irony - today, the cosmonauts from both space stations were returning back to Earth. "Comrade captain, the reactor was safely removed and is now secured in the payload bay of the LRV" sounded the proud voice of Migulya in the comm. "I think we're done here. Let us all pack up and go back home!" "As a commander of this station, I give this proposal my complete approval!" announced Vasilyev to everyone. "Since we are all packed up already, I propose to fulfill it as soon as possible. To EVA team - go to station's primary airlock on the "Drum" module. I know, the LRV's backup airlock seems very nice, but we need to leave the MMUs and suits here for the next crew." "Aye-aye, comrade captain!" reported the EVA team, firing up their MMUs and flying back to the first module of this great station. Since the airlock wasn't exactly spacious, they'll have to enter one by one - mostly because the MMUs were pretty huge. Of course, was it not for the advanced materials from Imperial Science Facility 9, which allowed creation of the normobaric EVA suits - the entire crew would've had to stay on the station for a few more hours. Thankfully, when the EVA team finally got back into station and re-dressed, everyone else was ready. "So, comrades, I want to congratulate you with the successful end of the 10th expedition to the Space Lab 2, which also served as a cornerstone for our relationship with… "Nationals", I think. So, anyway, we all served very well. Glory and long live to the Empire!" "Glory and long live to the Empire!" "Since the rest of our crew returned to Earth in pods already - thank the Emperor for launching that propellant tanker! - we can now return home at leisure pace. All hands - board the LRV and prepare for return." "Aye-aye, comrade captain!" ---- "Goodbye, Space Lab 2. We will miss you and try to return soon. Just wait for us," the pilot said, looking in the return vehicle’s main window. The space station, jewel in crown of the Empire’s space program, was left by its crew and switched to full-auto mode, waiting for the next bunch of people to take the residence in it for performing even more science operations and making even more discoveries. "Proceeding as normal, four hours until touchdown." "Acknowledged," replied the captain, recollecting the events of past three months - the craziest months in his live so far. Contacts with cosmonauts from other regions of the world after the event, which was later named "The Shift"; nearly inviting them onboard the Space Lab 2 one time and only not doing this because of medic's advice; having to constantly help in writing reports to linguists back on the ground; making sure, that the space station works properly, especially before the propellant tanker gave them some more freedom in maneuvering… those months were most definitely crazy. "Comrade captain, I have a small question - why aren't the replacement crew already there?" asked him Grigoriy, who served as a biologist and medic aboard the station. "I don't know. Zemlino told me, that there were some hiccups with their launch vehicle, and their LRV is an experimental one, with fuel cells instead of nuclear reactor... they've decided not to rush it. Station can wait, after all, but losing cosmonauts is not an option. They were launched a few hours ago and will dock to the station tomorrow." ---- "Hello there, darling," said man in plain clothes, entering the room. If not for the reaction of the Empress, not many would've thought, that this man was, in fact, the Emperor Ivan the Second himself. "How's your bad?" "Like ****," replied Empress Svetlana in tired voice. "Trying to make negotiations through these crude translators, when we are no longer the most advanced country on the planet…" "We still kinda are, in some branches." "In some, mind it. So, trying to negotiate with what's, apparently, called "Pokemon Nation", process all the data, prevent instabilities within the Empire and so on and so on… It's so tiring. And you?" "Not much better," said Ivan, starting to undress. "Since our main advantages are more advanced arcane science, nuclear physics and space technology…" "You mean, you want to make orbital weapon platform," finished his wife. "I don't approve this idea. We aren't on exactly good terms with the Nation now and making them even worse isn't going to take us anywhere." "Not quite, my dear, not quite. Do you remember the Project Tin Can?" "Yes, and what?" "Do you remember, what is it?" "I don't. Honestly, Vanya, with so much work, I can't keep track of all of your projects." "This project, my dear, is a nuclear pulse spaceship, whose wet mass measures 4000 tons. It uses small nuclear explosion devices, constructed to create a directed wave of superhot plasma upon detonation, for propulsion." "And?" "We've finished assembling the propulsion bus of this ship today. Pusher plate, shock absorbers, plasma deflection cone, gas gun for drive bombs, magazines and so on - this was quite a challenge! Now, we only need to construct the payload part…" "Wait, actual nuclear explosion launch?! Dear, let me check your temperature…" "No no no, don't be afraid! This thing will be boosted by the NUCLEUS superheavy chemical rocket and will only engage the bomb drive at high enough altitude!" "Still, using demolition devices for propulsion… I think it's pretty crazy." "Crazy or not, it should work. By the way, some time ago, Knyazev showed me a project of turning the "Red Explorer"..." "The what?" "The nuclear pulse ship - we've named it "Red Explorer", since it's designed to explore the Fourth Planet. So, he showed me project of turning the "Red Explorer" into warship, with retro-missiles for planetary bombardment, electromagnetic rail mass accelerators, point defence and so on…" "Retro-missiles?" "Okay, let me explain this for you. Retro-missile is a type of hypothetical space-to-surface weapon, which is launched against the orbital vector and uses its engines to decelerate to slower-than-orbital velocity and fall into gravity well of targeted planet/moon, later correcting direction of fall with smaller maneuvering engines to ensure, that it'll hit the intended target area." "And what would be the true purpose of this monster? Considering, that all-out war is the latest thing we want?" "I don't know. Knyazev is an already a strange one, always seeking to turn any project into the weapon…" ---- "So, why exactly the next expedition wasn't launched?" Donnager asked in not-quite-slightly angry voice. "I'm not supposed to tell it to you… but the reason for it is Rayquaza," half-whispered Cozmo "Rayquaza? Isn't it the legend of Draconids?" "I wish it was, but, as it recently turned out, it's a completely real Sky High Pokemon, and a very territorial one at that!" "So…" "Yes, the space stations will get destroyed any moment now. The road to space is now closed by the ruler of skies." "..." Samuel clenched his fists in anger. He hoped, that the astronauts from the other station have also returned home. ---- "... Nose gear touchdown!" the pilot of the LRV happily commented. "Deploying the drag chute…" The pretty big machine, measuring 12 meters in diameter and looking somewhat like the flying saucer, deployed small fabric cupola behind itself, along with moving all control surfaces into positions for aerobraking, in order to lower the current velocity and prevent rolling off the runway. Roughly twenty-five seconds later, the chute got detached and the machine soon ground to halt. "Welcome back!" sounded from comm. "Guys - hang in there for a few more…" "Zemlino, you're not clear, repeat, you're not clear!" said the pilot, trying to find the reason for the sudden cut-out in the words of flight control officer. "... Guys, you don't even know, how lucky you were," finally replied the officer in flat and shaky voice. "Right now, the Space Lab 2 was destroyed by the Pokemon of Legendary power, known by hoennians as "Rayquaza", along with LRV-03. Second space station was also destroyed. The 11th expedition to the Space Lab 2… is no more." "..." all cosmonauts froze. If not for this lucky early return, mostly forced by the need to return the reactor to Earth - they all would've been dead now. And their comrades weren't so lucky... ---- "Dear, what's with you?" asked her husband the Empress. The Emperor, indeed, did not look good - he was pale in face, shaking and still staring at the screen of his portable computer. "... Nothing too bad. Wait a second," said he, getting the portable telephone out of his case and calling someone. "Knyazev? I know you knew this, you bastard! Does not matter right now. Consult the medics, I guess, Psychics with ability to predict the future aren't abundant. Anyway, your altered version of the Project Tin Can has just got my total and complete approval. Consult the ISF 5 and 9 for required equipment. Yes. Does not matter, but make sure, that it'll be able to withstand hits with Hyper Beam without getting holes - at least not at the first hit." Empress thought, that, whatever has happened, if it was enough to instantly convince her husband to turn the exploration ship, about which he dreamed for a very long time (at least as long as he was together with her), into the machine of war - it must be really bad… and yes, she saw the notification on her own computer - the notification, that the Rayquaza has just destroyed the LRV with the new expedition, measuring 12 cosmonauts total, and the Space Lab 2 along with the space station of the Pokemon Nation. Thankfully, all nuclear-powered satellites executed their contingency protocols flawlessly and moved onto graveyard orbits before this Pokemon would be able to destroy them and spill the nuclear fuel from their reactors. "... Yes. No. Of course. Yes. Goodbye," Emperor ended his phone call and turned back to his wife. "Sorry, dear…" "I know already. You know… I approve of it too. It'll help me rally the people of Soris together and lower the level of internal instabilities, as well as allow our people up here to protect themselves from attacks of this monster. So, you say, that this ship needs lots of nuclear materials?" "Yes. At first, they were needed just for the drive bombs and reactor, but now, they'll also be needed for the weapons - shells for railguns, missiles and so on. We can remake some of our already-existing demolition devices into weapons, but that won't be enough." "I understand. I think I can tailor this campaign as a sort of posthumous reverence for our cosmonauts. It'll really help us in keeping the Empire stable." "Do it, if you want to do so. But we need to get this son-of-a-Red Spirit flying, lest the road to space be closed forever for us all." "... Wait, nearly forgot - what about the political effect? Because, you know, getting something like this in orbit would be even worse, than actual weapon platforms!" "I don't know. I'm sure you can deal with this, my dear." Emperor smiled gently after saying those words. Empress hated it, because she could never resist this smile. "Besides, once everything settles down, we can use this ship as it was originally intended - for exploring the Fourth Planet! The amounts of drive bombs and supplies should be sufficient for this and replacing the landers won't be a problem at all…" Notes: ISF - Imperial Science Facility. Worldbuilding mini-note #1: Red Spirit - mystical being in the sorisian mythology, not directly linked to any of Legendaries. It's a somewhat malevolent entity, which, however, patrons those, who fight to avenge their comrades. Some sorisian warriors pray to the Red Spirit before battle to help them in the quest for revenge and, if they fall - make sure that their comrades will avenge their deaths. Worldbuilding mini-note #2: Emperor Ivan Yevgeniyevich Bazarenko the Second is a very shitty ruler (hence why his wife rules the Soris Empire - he gave his throne to her as soon as he was able to), but is an awesome constructor of pretty much anything that flies. Because of that, he spends most of his time in the Imperial Aeronautics Institute, returning to the palace only on special occasions. Worldbuilding mini-note #3: The Project Tin Can is based on the real Project Orion. Worldbuilding mini-note #4: The Rayquaza's aggression and territorial tendencies are based on its depiction in the anime. The Shift may also have something to do with it. Author's note: those three months will, eventually, get expanded upon in the small series of drabbles. Also, the next chapter will have much more action.

[razieltwelve]

The Port (Final Rose)

Port Cerulean was the largest and most important port in Atlas. It was one of the few places in the kingdom with a harbour large and deep enough to accommodate even the largest cargo ships. Although great advances had been made in air transport, the cost of transporting vast quantities of goods entirely by air was simply too high. To survive, Atlas needed to ensure a steady influx of supplies via sea.

That was why Atlas had committed so heavily to programs designed to clear the sea of aquatic Grimm. They might not have been able to kill all of them, but they had thinned the numbers enough that constant patrols and advanced sensor systems could guarantee a relatively safe journey along designated naval transport corridors. 

If Port Cerulean ever fell, Atlas would be in a world of trouble. Without the massive areas of arable land that Vale possessed, Atlas was forced to import much of its food. Without those imports, it would only be a matter of weeks - maybe less - before they found themselves in dire straits. Moreover, there were many other products that they simply couldn’t produce for themselves in the quantities they needed.

To prevent any of these horrible outcomes, Port Cerulean was one of the most heavily fortified locations on the planet. A massive sea wall had been built that controlled all access to the harbour via a number of closely monitored gates. It was covered in weapons and designed to withstand attack from hordes of lesser Grimm.

Throughout the harbour were a number of towers that contained comprehensive weapons packages designed to eliminate any Grimm that managed to get past the wall. Further back on land were the truly heavy weapons, a quartet of gigantic plasma cannons whose output dwarfed even the damage put out by ultra-heavy artillery. They weren’t designed to fight lesser Grimm. Instead, they’d been built to engage colossal Grimm.

The plasma cannons weren’t alone. Scores of missile tubes, laser batteries, and conventional artillery outposts dotted the harbour. If the Grimm ever managed to destroy Port Cerulean, they would take absolutely horrendous casualties doing so. The newest additions to the defences were a trio of enormous rail guns, amongst the largest in the world. Plasma cannons might not have been ideal for breaching the very thickest of Grimm armour, but the rail guns could propel one tonne projectiles at unbelievable speeds.

X     X     X

“Look at that!” Ruby cried. “Have you ever seen a bigger rail gun?”

Yang bit back a laugh as her sister waved animatedly at the colossal weapon that occupied a large chunk of the hillside overlooking the port. “Nope.”

“I wonder how they generate enough power to operate it.” Ruby’s cheeks flushed. “They say it can fire a one tonne projectile at more than fifty thousand miles per hour. The kinetic energy alone is like hitting something with fifty tonnes of dynamite, and that’s not even taking into account they use three-step warheads as projectiles.”

“Three-step warheads?” Blake asked.

Ruby nodded eagerly. “Yeah! A three-step warheads is a special kind of explosive. You use the kinetic impact to trigger an atomic bomb, which then triggers a nuclear bomb, which can then trigger an exotic reaction that results in the creation of about a kilogram of anti-matter. Just one of those can completely dwarf the output of a typical small-scale tactical nuke by a factor of maybe a thousand.”

“…” Weiss looked a bit queasy. “And they have three of those rail guns here?”

“They’re not for regular Grimm,” Ruby said. “They’re for colossal Grimm. The last one to make landfall in Atlas was five years ago, wasn’t it? They had to hit it with multiple Dust-catalysed super-explosives to slow it down long enough for Aunt Lightning to show up and kill it. I still think they should have used nukes. Sure, there’s a bit of radiation to worry about, but the extra oomph is worth it.” She sighed dramatically. “I still can’t believe Diana wouldn’t lend me a three-step warhead. I mean she was basically the lead designer. I bet she’s got heaps of them in her closet.”

Yang opened her mouth and then closed it. As insane as Ruby was for even wanting one of those things, she was probably right. Diana probably did have at least a few of those stashed away somewhere.

“Ruby, what would you even do with one?” Blake asked.

“See if I could scale the design down enough to work with a hand-held rail gun. It’d be like shooting Grimm with tiny nukes. How cool would that be?”

The other three members of Team RWBY exchanged a look. They’d have to keep an eye out for trouble, just in case Ruby managed to badger those designs out of Diana.

“Don’t forget,” Weiss chided. “We’re here for a reason. As part of this semester’s practical missions assignments, we have to observe how critical defensive bulwarks are operated. I can scarcely imagine a more important bulwark than this. Without it, Atlas would fall.”

Ruby took a moment to compose herself. “Yeah. You’re right.” She took a deep breath. “But it’s hard to imagine this place falling. It’s got enough power to fight off tens of thousands of lesser Grimm and enough big guns to bring down even colossal Grimm, provided they get enough warning.”

“It is better to have too many weapons than too few.”

Weiss turned and snapped to attention. “General Ironwood!”

The general nodded at them. “At ease. You aren’t here as my subordinates. Rather, you are here to learn. As aspiring huntresses, you may one day be asked to stand in defence of this port.” He gestured. “I find myself in possession of an hour or two of free time. Perhaps you could walk with me while I tour the defences.”

“Certainly, sir,” Weiss replied quickly. “It would be an honour.”

X     X     X

James Ironwood was a man who prepared for the worst. At one of Atlas’s highest-ranking officers, that was his solemn duty and honour. He had supervised the renovation of Port Cerulean’s defences personally. Many had bristled at his push to have outsiders from beyond Atlas involved, but his was a practical approach. Hope was a genius, one of the greatest minds in the world, and his help was greatly appreciated. Yet to place so many burdens upon him would surely lead to disaster. Instead, James had paid handsomely, using precious political capital to sway his superiors and colleagues, to have other intellects of similar standing brought in.

The massive rail guns and their projectiles had been Diana’s brainchild, just as the design of the titanic sea wall had been Vanille’s. Hope had designed the automated defences, his expertise in robotics proving invaluable as he crafted a masterpiece that would stand against even tens of thousands of Grimm. It would be a symphony, thousands of weapons working in unison to cover the breadth of the wall, prioritising anything that could damage it while ensuring nothing could breach it.

Every winter, the Grimm came. The vast floes of ice offered them unique opportunities, even as it made travel by sea increasingly difficult. And every winter, the wall turned them back. Last winter, they had killed more than one hundred and fifty thousand Grimm over the span of three months. That was an average of fifty thousand Grimm a month, a little over one and a half thousand a day. And through it all, Port Cerulean had continued to operate, a testament to the bravery of the captains who plied the seas and the expertise of those who manned the walls.

They were heroes, each and every one of them, and James was proud to say that he had personally appointed their commanding officer and much of the senior staff. However, he kept such thoughts to himself as he explained the basics of the wall’s operation to Team RWBY. Given their pedigree, it would only be a matter of time before they found themselves on call, ready to respond should the next colossal Grimm make its appearance.

“Overlapping fields of fire are key,” James explained. “As is proper allocation of weaponry. Using artillery to kill a lone lesser Grimm is a waste not only of resources but also of time. When Grimm are assaulting a location en masse, it is important to eliminate them before they can completely overrun the defences. This requires both speed and precision in decision making.” He gestured. “The wall’s defences are geared toward different types of Grimm. Some are designed to clear areas of lesser Grimm, which is important when a swarm attacks. Others are designed to eliminate smaller numbers of more powerful Grimm, which is also important since such Grimm are often capable of damaging the walls and its defences.”

James was pleased to see they were remaining silent, their eyes wandering over the wall as they considered his words. Ruby, in particular, was gesturing, seemingly teasing out the angles of fire and coverage herself.

“Apart from the wall, this port also has its own dedicated aerial and naval assets. Where possible, we prefer to kill the Grimm before they get here. As such, we make extensive use of missile frigates, submarines, and air-dropped torpedoes and depth charges to thin their numbers. Even larger Grimm can often be dealt with if located early enough. At the very least, we need to know if we have to call for reinforcements.”

James pointed to a ship that was approaching. “That ship is carrying tens of thousands of tonnes of grain. Think about what would happen if we were to lose it. How many mouths would go hungry?” His gaze sharpened. “Which is why it is being escorted by a pair of our ships, and why the wall’s defences are already active, ready to strike down anything that attacks it.”

Ruby gulped. “How many ships like that come in each day?”

“As many as we can get,” James said bluntly. “Ruby, Atlas does not have the luxury of vast, fertile fields as Vale does. Ours is a rugged kingdom, rich in many resources, but desolate and cruel in many ways. It is always cold here, and our winters are brutal. To survive, we need not only our wits and our courage but also our neighbours.” He raised one hand and clenched it into a fist. “Thus are the kingdoms stronger together than apart, like the fingers of a fist. We trade our technology, our mineral wealth, and our expertise for what we cannot produce ourselves. We bring in what we can by air, but our needs are so great that only by using the sea can we make ends meet.”

Blake made a face. “In Menagerie, we used to count the ships coming in when I was a kid. There were days when we didn’t have any.”

“Things have improved,” James said. “We have spent vast sums to clear the seas of Grimm, and Professor Dia’s work to establish the Grimm Monitoring Network has paid off handsomely. Moreover, we now have close cooperation with Arendelle’s navy, which has done much to increase the amount of ocean traffic we can sustain safely.” He paused. “Too many in Atlas see the world in terms of competition. They’re not wrong, but we must never forget that we have to work together.”

“You and Ozpin argue a lot,” Yang said. “Or at least my parents say so.”

James chuckled. “Oh, Ozpin and I argue all the time. I argue with Professor Dia as well. That does not mean we disagree - it is more a matter of specifics. We each agree that cooperation is necessary, but exactly what form that cooperation takes requires plenty of discussion and compromise.”

“Look!” Weiss pointed. “That’s one of my family’s ships.”

Another ship was approaching, and it bore the familiar logo of the Schnee Dust Company.

“Indeed.” James turned. “But we’ve spent enough time out here. I’ve been told you may have an interest in observing some of our… larger weaponry.”

Ruby practically squealed. “Can we fire some of it?”

James’s lips twitched. “No.”

X     X     X

Author’s Notes

Despite its many advantages, Atlas does have to import much of its food, as well as other things. To ensure a steady supply, it has taken great care to establish safe transportation routes, and it has massively fortified its ports and airfields to withstand attack. Unlike Vale, they do not have the luxury of having Lightning and Fang basically down the road for help. Incidentally, quite a few Yun do tours of duty in Atlas as part of a Clan-sponspored mercenary group.

They are popular since the Yun are well known for their prowess in battle and their sense of honour. Once hired to defend a location, the Yun can be counted on to either defend it or die trying. They are also joined by many Dia and other clans since overseas work is another way to build up precious experience while making money. It helps that the Yun aren’t much bothered by the cold and are perfectly happy climbing mountains.

You can find me on fanfiction.net, AO3, and Amazon. Please check out my newest story on Amazon. It’s called Monster Whisperer.

[spacebrick3]

Duo WHG: Anechoi and VALENTINA’s ‘Death’

A suspicious death from hypothermia, but is it really a death? Or is it one of those famous escapes the Capitol is claiming to support? This is that account, from @ratracechronicler‘s Writeblr Hunger Games!

Night 1:

It was only the first night, and already I wanted out. Before you make any comments, look: First of all, it was cold. I could see my breath in front of my face, and even if Val liked it, I didn’t. And second, there was really no reason for me to stick around. I’d get amnesty if I escaped, and there was no way in hell I was winning this contest. Why wait longer?

You’re trying to justify yourself, Val cut in. It’s ‘cause you’re scaaaaared, isn’t it? 

It was times like this I wished Val had an actual face, just so I could stare it dead in the eyes. Instead, I was reduced to an exasperated sigh. Says the AI, who doesn’t have organs they need to keep intact. Have you seen some of the weapons out there? I’m in no hurry to get stabbed.

Scaaaaaaaaaaaared, she said in a sing-song voice. Somebody’s sca-aaa-ared, aren’t they? Anechoi is sca-aaa-red!

Why do I even keep you around? I wondered as I trekked towards the edge of the Arena. I’d tried to persuade Mazda to just pull me out, but they seemed to be…busy. So I’d have to do it on my own.

My wonderful personality? 

Don’t push it. Alright. I didn’t want to run into the forcefield and get violently electrocuted-

Yeah, that’d probably be bad for me too, Val cut in. I mean, I think those fields would fry even my top-rated circuits.

I grimaced. Glad to see something you care about. I picked up a handful of pebbles and dirt from the ground - the Arena this year seemed to be some kind of forest, with grey trees blocking out the moonlight - and carefully tossed them ahead of me, waiting for the flash and wisp of smoke that would signal the field. None came, so I moved forwards and repeated my actions, stones bouncing away on the ground.

Except for one. Just before it hit, there was a small bright light and the rock bounced back, breaking into two clean halves as it did. I winced. Wow. That’s new. 

You have a plan? Val asked. Or will you just stand here and stare at it?

I’ve been here literally ten seconds. I moved down the length of the field, testing its ins and outs with more rocks. I didn’t know a lot about Arena design, but I did know my electronics. You sorta have to working with explosives, or you cross the wrong leads, get a spark, and then…Never mind. Only happened once.

But here’s the thing. Those forcefields were a massive amount of electricity, and it was being sent through the air. Which, you might guess from the fact wires even exist, is not the best conductor. Either they’d put their generators really close together, so that they didn’t have to push the current through as much air, or each generator was something like a nuclear reactor. I hoped it wasn’t the second one.

That left the question of where the generators were. At least part of the generator would have to be within the field, to complete the current, so I didn’t have to worry that they might be on the wrong side of the field. But I couldn’t see anything that looked like a massive metal generator - the only thing sticking into the field was grass, a few scattered rocks, and then the branches of trees.

Hold on. I picked up a twig from the ground and tossed it at the field. There was another flash and the acrid smell of smoke before the stick fell, half burned away. So…those weren’t tree branches then. Probably weren’t trees either, to be honest. Plan A was to just break one of them. I pulled out the bolt cutter, clicking in the fuel tank. Most things don’t work melted - probably a design flaw.

There was a low-hanging ‘branch’ a bit farther down, about seven feet off the ground. I thanked my genes that I was six feet and could reach it, even if it was a bit of a stretch. That’s your plan? Val asked. Melt it? 

When I’m working with you, I like to keep things simple. Keep your processor from overheating, I said as I flicked the cutter on to the highest setting. A bright red jet bathed the branch, almost vaporizing the bark there and revealing a dark metal beneath. I held the fire there, focusing it on a single spot until it should have been thousands of degrees hot.

And it might have been. But it wasn’t melting. Kick it, Val suggested. I might be able to figure out what it is.

Kick it? It’s seven feet up!

Fine then, she said grudgingly. Hit it. It might not be as good, but I should be able to get a general idea of what it is. I obliged and whacked the metal with one hand. Uh - wait, it’s still-

Yes. In hindsight, whacking a piece of metal that I had just heated to a few thousand degrees was not the best idea. In my defense, it was a stressful time. -hot, Val finished as I yanked it away with a shout of pain. OW ow oW ow ow ow dammit ow ow ow ow ow ow ow ow OW OW OW

Well, I think I’ve figured out why you can’t melt it, Val said over my internal shouting. I’ve worked with this before, actually, until SOMEBODY stole me from the lab.

That’s great - ow holy HELL that hurts, I said, clutching my hand and hoping there was water nearby. There wasn’t. What IS it?

I think it’s hafnium tantalum carbide. Melts at about seven thousand degrees Fahrenheit.

Well, that was just great. My cutter was useless for that, so I’d have to go to Plan B. Fumbling with my non-burned hand in my backpack, I pulled out the two sai I’d managed to grab from the Cornucopia. Iron or steel, probably, but it didn’t really matter. Anything was more conductive than air.

The nearest ‘branch’ to this one was about fifteen feet up, but the tree-generator was on this side of the force field, so I didn’t have to use the branch. I picked the cutter off the ground, still glowing with its bright red flame, and melted some of the bark off the generator. It was the same dark metallic exterior, so melting through the generator wouldn’t work either.

The next step was to melt down the knives. They, at least, did what metal was supposed to do when faced with my plasma cutter and started to glow orange. I didn’t have to change much, really - I just had to do some impromptu welding between the two knives, making one long metal stick. It wouldn’t be any good in a fight, but it would work as a wire.

I melted one end to the ‘branch’ then, although I did worry about the connection. Since only the iron was melting, not the hafnium-whatever, I had to wait until it cooled completely before I could touch the other end to the generator. However, since I wasn’t a complete idiot, I took off my jacket and used that to hold onto the wire. That turned out to be a good idea, since as soon as I touched the two there was a blinding flash of electricity. There went that jacket. 

Touching the wire to the generator also cut off the field between the generator and the ‘branch’, though, just as I had guessed. If there was an easier path, then the electricity would take it, leaving the air free from the field. Still as carefully, I melted the other end of the wire to the generator. I tossed another pebble through the space between, just to check I wasn’t going to get electrocuted - it wasn’t flash-fried, which was good - then slipped through the space between them.

It didn’t seem any different, to be perfectly honest. More forest, more trees. But I was out. That was it. I had actually gotten out of the Arena. I didn’t have to compete in the Games anymore. I was out!

Don’t get too excited. We still have to figure out where the hell we are, Val said.

Sure, I replied, feeling more cheerful than I had since the start of the Games, but at least nobody’s trying to kill us now. 

Val sounded skeptical. You’re sure the Capitol isn’t coming after us? They might not appreciate us breaking their forcefield, she said as I started off into the woods. I wasn’t sure which way the Capitol was, but I could find it somehow. There were abandoned train tracks all over, and they all led one place. 

You worry too much, I told her. We’ll be fine.

Gamemaker’s Note: While it was stated we would allow tributes to escape, these escapes were intended to provide as more entertainment for viewers, not as tutorials for current or future tributes to escape. As such, the decision has been made to restrict information about the escape of District 9 tributes Anechoi and VALENTINA. Only Gamemakers and select few will know of their egress from the Games. A report, based on the freezing temperatures in the Arena the night of their escape, will inform the public that the two of them were killed by hypothermia.

[annathescavver]

What Remains Of Us Ch. 3

Far Harbor left much to be desired when it came to food. The plate before her was piled with some kind of meat, slimy and dark. It smelled so strongly of the sea - fish and mud and rot - that Anna could barely choke it down. It was warm, though, and that was something at least.

Outside the Last Plank, rain pattered gently against the windows. A raging storm had rolled through not long before, bringing howling winds that rattled the building’s walls and sounded to Anna like a thousand grieving spirits. It had passed, thankfully, but she didn’t look forward to venturing outside.

Finishing the last of her breakfast, she handed the plate back to Mitch and nodded her thanks. Turning around on the barstool, she pulled her pack onto her lap and dug out her bottle of rad-x. She downed two of the pills.

Movement caught her eye and she looked up to see Longfellow striding towards her. “Morning,” she said. “We all set to go?”

“Yeah, yeah. Where’s your partner? We’re leaving before the rain comes back, so I’m not gonna wait around.”

“Oh, he probably outside.” Anna hopped off the stool and led the way out of the bar. As she had suspected, Nick Valentine was leaning against the outside wall, the shadow of an awning barely keeping the rain off him. He was tucked deep in his coat, shoulders hunched, with a lit cigarette between his lips.

“There he is,” she spoke again. “You ready, Nick?”

“Sure, sure. Let’s get up there and see if we can find Kasumi.”

At that, Longfellow took the lead out of town. He pulled his rifle from his back and held it steady, eyes flickering from side to side. Moving quick, he immediately disappeared into the Fog, leaving the other two to hurry after him.

Only moments passed before Anna was convinced they were in a different world. Silver wisps swirled around them, playful and menacing in equal measure. A peculiar smell tickled her nose and she inhaled deeply. Maybe it was the storm that had just passed. Or maybe it was something more sinister.

They traveled along a prewar road, the asphalt broken to reveal patches of muddy water and stubborn, mutated plants. The sea was to their right, waves steadily lapping the shore. And the wind grew louder the farther they traveled from town until it whistled past her ears and she ducked her chin deeper into her coat to avoid its icy touch.

They traveled for a while without comment. Understandably, Longfellow wasn’t very talkative and instead kept several paces ahead of them, wariness visible in every move he took.

That was, until he stopped, holding out a hand to keep the others behind him. “Get down,” he ordered and pointed towards the remains of an old brick wall. “Trappers up ahead.”

Anna shared a look with Nick as they crouched behind the wall. She had no idea what trappers were, but from Longfellow’s tone of voice, she could guess they were nothing good.

“It’s dark, so they shouldn’t see us,” Longfellow said. “Though they have some kind of primal sense of smell, so be ready.”

Shifting her grip in her plasma rifle, Anna waited. There was nothing but the wind for several heartbeats. And then, out of the Fog came a muffled, almost inhuman laugh. Her blood ran cold at the sound and her many fights with raiders came back to her. If trappers were anything like them, this would not be a good fight.

The silhouettes of four people emerged from the mist. She could see the glint of their weapons: some kind of modified rifle, a long machete, a hook like that used by a butcher, and spiked, rusty knuckles. Even in the cold, Anna could feel the sweat trickle down her spine. Yes. They were just like raiders.

One of the trappers stopped. They stretched out their neck and looked around. Their eyes, visible through the tattered scarf they wore, were wild.

“Fresh meat.” Their voice was gleeful. “Find them.”

The trappers found them in seconds. Anna scurried backward as one of them targeted her. He swiped at her with the machete, the blade gleaming through the mist. She ducked and the smell of unwashed body and blood filled her nose.

“Can you feel it?” Machete taunted her. “The Fog gets us all in the end.”

Anna could imagine. It sure didn’t seem like the Fog cared who you were.

Instead of responding to him, she raised her rifle and fired off a shot. It caught him in the shoulder and he hissed, eyes flashing. Machete dodged to the side, evading her next shot, before rushing her again.

Mud squelched under her boot as Anna spun to meet him. He was too close; too close to use her rifle. The blade barely missed her and her breath caught in her throat as she imagined the damage it could do. She shoved her elbow into his face, the crack of bone loud in her ears. Blood dribbled out of his nose and he stumbled, hands desperately trying to stem the flow. Another shot from her rifle and he was down.

 She looked up, watching as Longfellow barely missed the swipe of the meat hook. Wincing, she watched as he fired several times into the trapper and finished them off. The other, the one who had carried the rifle, was already dead.

The snap of a revolver caught her attention and she looked to see Nick facing the last trapper. The shot had missed, but a second did not. The force of the bullet sent him back a few steps. It wasn’t enough, though. It didn’t stop him. Nick’s face twisted and he fired again, but the trapper ducked before coming at him from below, the sharp spines of the brass knuckles aimed for maximum damage.

Anna started to run, rifle coming into her hands. She skidded to a halt as Nick grabbed the trapper and wrestled with him for several moments, before slamming the backside of his revolver into the man’s temple. The last bullet did not miss.

That was it. That was all four of them.

Anna eyed the trappers until she was certain they would not rise. “Christ,” she breathed, knees weak with relief. “Are you guys alright?”

Longfellow waved off her concern as he walked over to one of the bodies. “Take what you can find. Bullets are hard to come by on the island.”

“Right.” Anna did as he suggested and dug into the trapper’s pockets. There were no bullets - not that it was surprising, given that this man had charged at her with a fucking machete - but she did find a few caps. Not really useful, but she claimed them anyway.

She joined Nick and noted the tear in his coat. “Are you hurt?”

“No,” Nick replied with a shake of his head. “Surprisingly, no. Their brass knuckles caught my coat, is all. You think someone on his island has a needle and thread?”

“Well, we’ll ask around Acadia. Being up on that mountain top, I’m sure their self-sufficient enough to have some.” It was said lightly, but her smile was forced and shaky. “I’m just glad you’re alright.”

They continued up the mountain. The air took on a smell of damp soil and fallen leaves. It was a welcome relief and Anna would have felt a measure of peace come of her, if not for the sorrowful, ever-dangerous forest around them.

Once, they heard a shrill scream and Longfellow explained that it was what people on the island called a fog crawler. It was some kind of mutated sea creature, he said, and Anna was neither surprised nor excited to hear it.

The Fog began to thin as they reached the peak. Eventually it disappeared completely and Longfellow said they would be safe from the rads now. “We weren’t out too long,” he continued. “With the medicine you took, you’ll be fine. This time.”

Of course. There would be other times to travel up or down the mountain. Anna shivered, lifting her shoulders and hiding deeper into her coat.

“Now,” Longfellow said. “This is Acadia. They’ve been watching us for a while now, so you’ll be expected. You two should probably head on in.”

He nodded towards the settlement before them. A makeshift fence - like everywhere in the nuclear wasteland, it was made of scraps and the remains of prewar vehicles - surrounded the mountaintop. Beyond it were several sheds and a few guard posts. And in the center was a tall domed building. The steps leading up to it were crumbling, the concrete falling apart from lack of maintenance. The walls and roof, too, were showing signs of wear.

“Good luck, both of you.” Longfellow shook their hands. “Not like it’s been a pleasure or anythin’, coming up here, but you know what you’re doing. If you ever need a guide again, come find me.”

He turned and started on the trip back down the mountain. With him gone, Anna started up the concrete steps, Nick following close behind her.

The door to the building squealed loudly and Anna winced, wishing for something to oil the hinges with. Inside, it was dark and cold and she stopped for a moment to let her eyes adjust. To their right was a staircase that headed to the lower levels, and ahead of them stretched a long hallway that opened into what appeared to be a big room.

Blue lights flickered ahead and Anna followed them.

The main room was round and full of computer terminals. The blue lights came from the screens, each of which flickered with lines of code. The ceiling was collapsed in parts, the sunlight peeking through the metal. In the middle was a telescope, one that looked like it hadn’t been used in centuries. Before that was a chair. A figure sat there, regarding the sky above.

“When I first climbed this mountain, I thought to myself: now here is a metaphor worth taking in. It was safe; above the Fog. While you’re here in Acadia, synth-kind welcomes you, as long as you welcome us.”

The voice was eloquent. It was quiet and calm, but there was a layer of steel under the surface. There was no threat in the words, and yet the warning was clear.

They stood up and approached the newcomers, their bearing one of hard-earned confidence. It was the kind of confidence that came from facing adversity and standing up, again and again, after being shoved to the ground.

Anna stopped still, her eyes widening as she took in the sight. The figure was a synth - an older model synth. There was no mistaking the metal frame and the worn silicone skin. Their legs were completely wrapped in what appeared to be electrical tape while the rest of their body was exposed metal and wires. What was most striking were the glass tubes erupting from their back, each one of them catching the light from the terminals and glittering like frost.

“What brings you here?” the synth asked. They folded their hands before them, head tilted as they regarded Anna.

“Well,” Anna said and then shut her mouth again, taking a moment to regain her composure. Staring was rude to begin with, and she was sure they didn’t appreciate her acting like she’d never seen a synth before. “The name’s Anna. Nice to meet you. This is Nick, and we’re detectives. We’re here looking for Kasumi.”

The synth froze at her words. Their gaze flickered towards Nick, and then their eyes widened as shock flashed across their face. They took a step back, stumbling in their haste. “No. No, it can’t be you.”

Anna frowned and turned to Nick. “You know them?”

“No,” Nick replied immediately. He looked over at the other synth and his voice became irritated. Anna knew that tone; it meant he felt he was wasting his time, or someone else was wasting it for him. “What’re you trying to pull? Who the hell are you?”

“Nick, it’s me. DiMA. I’m your brother.”

“What?” Nick demanded. “I don’t have a brother. And the only time I see a mug like that is when I look in a mirror.”

Anna stayed silent, watching the two of them interact and unsure of how to respond. Should she, even? Perhaps it wasn’t her place.

“Please, if you’d give me a chance,” DiMA said pleadingly. “We were in the Institute. We left together.”

“Keep talkin’.”

DiMA’s fingers twisted together as he chose his words carefully. “We were prototypes. As far as the Institute was concerned, we were the first synths capable of independent thought and reasoning. I was allowed to develop my personality as I aged, based on my experiences. You...they tried to implant an entire personality into you.

“Each attempt failed, but they just kept trying. I watched you wake up not knowing who you were so many times. I couldn’t let them do it to you anymore. It hurt to see you suffer like that. So I planned carefully, and one night when I knew they wouldn’t catch us, we escaped.”

Anna took a deep breath and slowly slid her hands into her pockets. It was quite the story. Just believable enough, too. But was it true?

Nick scoffed and she heard the note of pain in his voice. “If that’s true, I’d remember.”

“I’m sorry, but that’s where you’d be wrong,” DiMA corrected. The words were brisk, but his voice was gentle and apologetic. “As prototypes, our raw data capacity is limited. I had to reprogram all of these terminals in order to save all of my old memories. It’s...rather unfair.”

“I’ve heard enough,” Nick snapped. He stalked away, shoulders tight with strain. Anna followed him and he drew her into the hallway. “I...I don’t know what to make of this. I really don’t remember him, doll. We should talk about this, but not right now. We need to find Kasumi first.”

“Alright,” Anna said. She placed a hand on his shoulder and gave him a reassuring smile. “We’ll figure this out. After we make sure she’s here and safe, we can come back to this. Sound good?”

“Yeah. Sounds good.”

Anna cradled his cheek for a moment, her thumb smoothing across his skin, before leading the way back into the main room.

“Moving on,” she said and met DiMA’s gaze. “Kasumi Nakano. Have you seen her?”

“Yes. She joined us not long ago. She’s safe.” As if sensing the tension still in the room, DiMA spoke honestly and did not bring up his and Nick’s apparent history again. “Like many others, she came to us with questions. I need you to understand that before you see her. This is a very delicate time for her.”

Anna didn’t doubt that, but perhaps Kasumi was stronger than DiMA gave her credit for. Instead of saying that, however, she only nodded.

“I’m sure you have only the best intentions,” DiMA continued. “But I want to make sure you aren’t here to try and decide for her. Do you think she’s a synth?”

The question was sudden and Anna gaped at him. “I - “ she said and then halted for a moment. “She could be, sure. It doesn’t matter to me either way.”

"It matters to her. She’s facing the possibility of her entire life being a lie. Her entire history programmed by someone else.” DiMA spread out his hands, indicating the entire observatory. “Here in Acadia, everyone is free to come to their own conclusions. It is their life.”

“I understand,” Anna said. “I’m not here to tell her what to think. I just want to make sure she’s alright.”

DiMA nodded, apparently satisfied with her words. “Thank you. She’s usually downstairs and you are free to see her. However, before you go, I have one more question, if you’ll indulge me. I suspect you may have come here for another reason, as well.”

“I did?” Anna asked in confusion. “What’s your question?”

“Tell me,” he said softly. “Are you a synth?”

Anna could only stare at him. Her breath caught in her throat and when she tried to speak, an undignified squeak came out. The question startled her, more so than the last one. This one was personal, and immediately thoughts, ones she had never wanted to give voice to, trickled into her mind. She dropped her gaze, afraid and ashamed. The mud on her boots gave her a measure of comfort as she studied it.

You will hold you tongue, the courser had said. Or I will silence you myself. It will take just a few words.

Heat radiated from her face and her stomach twisted, leaving her feeling sick. She wanted to hide. She didn’t want to face that question. She had tried to forget what the courser had said to her. Like usual. Like she always did when something upset her. Forgetting, or at least shoving the thought into the darkest corner of her mind, gave her momentary relief. It wasn’t healthy. She knew it wasn’t, but sometimes she didn’t care.

Beside her, Nick took an aggressive step forward. “Listen here, pal,” he said coldly. DiMA backed away, hands twisting together again. “Who are you to -”

“Nick.”

Nick stopped and looked back at her. “Anna…”

“No, Nick. Please don’t speak for me.”

The detective lowered his eyes and nodded once.

“Alright,” Anna said to herself. She looked up and faced DiMA again. “I’ll be honest, I’m not really sure I feel comfortable discussing that with you. I would think you’d understand how delicate of a question that is to ask. And presumptuous. Besides, how the hell would I know?”

“If you’re looking for some kind of biological test we could do, there isn’t any,” DiMA replied. He cleared his throat with a considerable measure of discomfort. “None that aren’t fatal.”

“Right. Yeah, cutting into my skull would probably kill me.”

Nick shifted his stance but kept his silence.

“Oh.” DiMA appeared to be puzzled by Anna’s sarcasm. “So instead, you have to look for signs. Odd dreams. Feelings of unexplained isolation. Holes in your memory.”

Anna flinched at the word memory. “Uh huh,” she said lamely. Well, that was certainly true. She did have a lot of holes in her memory. Ones that she honestly couldn’t explain. Ones that had always stood out to her, haunted her, made her wonder.

“Ultimately, you must decide for yourself. What do you believe?” DiMA asked, as if musing his thoughts aloud. He leaned forward, hands folded in front of him. “Have you ever questioned your humanity?”

Anna glared at him. Her jaw was clenched. “No,” she said with only a slight tremor in her voice. “I haven’t.”

“Of course. If you don’t mind, what’s the first thing you remember?”

That was going too far. This entire conversation was going too far. Nick was right; who was he to ask this of her? “I do mind, thank you. That’s personal territory. I’m not going to share that with a stranger.”

“I see,” DiMA said with a knowing nod. He tipped his head to the side. “Perhaps if I were to share my own first?”

“No. We’re not here to share life stories, and I’m not going to share that kind of information with you.” Anna held her ground, her voice low. “If I get to know you better, maybe we’ll talk. Until then, I would prefer if we keep it professional.”

“Of course,” DiMA said. He backed away and, if he was bothered by her words, he gave no sign. “Feel free to roam the grounds, and introduce yourselves to my co-founders, Faraday and Chase. I will be here, if either of you have questions.”

“Sure thing. Thank you,” Anna said and her and Nick left the main room. They headed downstairs, the stairwell echoing with their footsteps.

At the bottom of the steps, Anna stopped. Her skin felt itchy, like she was covered in ants. She scrubbed her hands up and down her arms, trying to banish the feeling. The feeling didn’t go away and she looked back up the stairwell, expression rueful. There was a charisma to DiMA, a kindness that made you feel at ease around him. But it was sweet, sickly sweet. Something about it - something about him - wasn’t right.

“Doll,” Nick said softly.

“I guess I could have been nicer about that.”

Nick shrugged. “We both could’ve been. Though, we have a job to do and it isn’t answering those kinds of questions.”

“What gives him the right to ask them, anyway? I understand him wanting to make sure we’re trustworthy, sure, but still. That’s personal stuff. I don’t - I don’t want to - “

“Doll,” Nick said again.

“Yeah, okay, we have a job to do. Let’s just find Kasumi.”

They found her in the basement, up on a high ladder and with a tool belt around her waist. She eyed them apprehensively before coming down the ladder and dusting her hands on her jeans.

“My parents sent you, didn’t they?” Kasumi looked decidedly uncomfortable. “Well, those people who I lived with.”

“Yeah, they did,” Anna said honestly. “They’re worried and sent us to make sure you’re alright.”

“I am. You found me, so you can go back and tell them that. I’m not going back, though.”

Anna spread out her hands. “Hey, hey, we’re not here to take you back.”

Kasumi was silent for a few moments before she nodded. “Besides, there’s something going on here. There’s something off about this place, but I just haven’t figured it out yet. You’re detectives, right? You could look into it.”

Oh. Well. Anna glanced over at Nick, catching his eye as if to say Who could’ve guessed?

“I suppose so,” Anna said. “What do you mean?”

“Those terminals upstairs, they hold DiMA’s memories, you know? One day I asked if I could help. I like tinkering with things...oh, well you probably already know that about me. Anyway, Faraday agreed and while I was up there I got kind of curious. I mean, there’s decades of experience in those terminals. Don’t tell me you wouldn’t be tempted.”

Tempted, sure, but Anna wasn’t certain she’d poke around in someone’s private memories. “And what did you find?”

“Death,” Kasumi said. “There were data models of death. An explosion of some kind, and estimated levels of radiation. The Fog took over Far Harbor. It was horrible. I...don’t know what it means, but it’s there, in his memories. Someone needs to look into it, just in case.”

That wasn’t quite an accusation, but it came close. “We’ll help if we can,” Anna said quietly. She wanted to say yikes. “We need more evidence before we do anything, though.”

Kasumi looked to the side. “Faraday’s terminal is upstairs in his office. Y’know, off to the side of the main room, with the big window? If you could hack it, you’d probably find something, because he and DiMA are really close. And I’ve seen the three of them go into that lab over there” - here she pointed - “and they come out looking like they’ve been arguing. There’s a storage room next to it. You could hide in there and eavesdrop.”

“We could,” Anna said slowly, with little conviction. “But let’s know overstep ourselves until we know more. We’ll look into it, though.”

“Whatever you do, let me know, okay? I won’t stay here if there’s something that...awful going on.”

“I wouldn’t jump to conclusions,” Anna said evenly. Though the memories sounded bad, there might very well be a reason for their existence. And again, private memories. “You hang tight and we’ll take it from here. And we’ll send Kenji and Rei a message, if you want. Just to let them know you’re alright.”

“Well, yeah, that’s probably a good idea. I guess they should know. Yeah, send them something.” Kasumi didn’t seem convinced and she turned back to the ladder, muttering absently, “Some better tools would be nice. How am I supposed to fix this ceiling with these?”

Anna backed away, sparing a thought about the state of the building’s condition. Maybe she could help with that, too.

“I think we need to look around,” she said to Nick when they were back in the stairwell and out of earshot. “Get to know the others who live here. Then we can decide if we need to dig deeper. My detective skills aren’t on par with yours, though. What do you think?”

With a faint smile, Nick said, “No, I think you’re right. No sense making enemies on day one. Let’s sniff around before we doing anything else.”

“Yeah, sniff.” Anna winked. “So far all I got is this wet coat I’m wearing. Not pleasant.”

“Wiseass,” Nick shot back, with humor.

“Yet you still love me.”

He slid an arm around her waist. “Yeah, I do. Even your bad jokes.”