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g2ginnovation · 2 years ago

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ceasarslegion · 8 months ago

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Now that I'm on a 5 hour train ride before my airport run I can outline a few thoughts about America I've had over the last week:

-everything is so big. Like canada far beats you guys in regards to raw land mass but there's like 12 of us up there. You guys really minmaxed how much you can fit into one place. Meanwhile you leave an urban center in canada and it's just nothing for the next half hour upon which you hit a gas station warning that the next ones not gonna be for another 2 hours so fill up now

-Ive seen more Amish people in my like 4 days in upstate NY than I have in my entire life before now

-ive also seen more confederate, trump, and general American flags in the last 4 days upstate than in my entire life before now. NYC was not that bad. Are you guys okay down here

-why do you have war vets advertised on street lamps

-why do you put your flag on EVERYTHING... im pretty sure there's a part of your constitution that says you're not supposed to do that lmao??

-i bought a big gulp with my last few USD bills yesterday. It gave me a nuclear level tummy ache but the hubris of having that much pop for 2 dollars made it worth it. I get the appeal of Big Drink now

-I was asked how I want my burger cooked when I went for a good ol' american cheeseburger. You guys are just raw dogging rare ground beef here like e coli can't touch you. There was a burger that had mozzarella sticks on it on the menu. Your frankensteinian approach to food captivates me

-i hate how you have 1 dollar bills here. That's wrong to me. 5 is the proper place for bills to start. To me. But the CAD to USD exchange rate is HEAVILY weighted in your favour so it's whatever I guess. Your grocery prices make me want to scream, cry, and throw up in that order. Canada's not much better but at least the prices have the same number on them in a comparatively worthless currency

-there is something so capitalist about this country. Every second of my day I am being blasted with ads from every flat surface. At least we don't have ad screens in our taxis???

-I bought an Arizona tea flavour we don't have in canada and upon glancing at the nutrition label it had 84% of my daily sugar intake in it. If that's what your convenience store iced tea is like I think whatever sweet tea is would just kill me

-I think the guns in Walmart are perhaps contributing to the way the tankies on this webbed site think guns are cool and not dangerous at all. My god I was uneasy seeing that shit

-i got a big box of american sugar cereal that we dont have in canada and they can pry it from my cold dead hands at the airport I'm qualified to work our TSA checkpoint and I know damn well it's allowed to go in the case of personal consumption this shit fucks so goddamn hard

#ramblings

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readyplayerziggy · 2 months ago

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(italic: singing; normal: speaking)

You're a mean one, Ms. York. You really are a cad. You're as sweet as rotted chicken, You're as cuddly as burning plaid Ms. Yoooork! You're the worst friend a, person could have haaaaaaadddd!

(A dozen stockings pinned above a fireplace each glowed a bright blue from the inside before all the contents began sinking into them, a light fwoomph the only warning before the glow shut off. A cackle outside paired with the near-silent roar of an engine echoing out.)

You're a sour one, Ms York. Your heart's like a black hoooole! Your brain is like a hornet's nest, You've got the Devil in your soul Ms. Yooooork! You'd smack someone down the stairs, and laugh as you watch them roooooooll!!

(In a kitchen with a glorious feast made for a family of dozens, ready and waiting to be eaten come breakfast, a narrow tube slipped through the window before it widened into a large funnel shape. With the click of a switch, a low suction came on and began to send all the food flying off the plates and out of the bowls into it, each morsel fitting through no matter how massive while a loud gulping resounded outside the window. And when the plates were empty, a second tube arrived, far smaller but dividing itself by a dozen to sink into every drink and let the owner sluuuuurp. With a belch being heard before the device retracted.)

You're a foul one, Ms. York. As welcome as a bed of nails! Your smile is like trash, festering in some pails Ms. Yooooork! You would take a train full of toys for kids, light it on fire, and send it flying right off the raaaiiiillls!!

(A small cube was sent down a chimney, stopping just before it hit the fire to extinguish it before it hovered into the room, gifts and treats littered all about. The whole area was scanned down to the millimeter with a yellow light before everything just...vanished. The cookies, the milk, the tree, the gifts, the stockings. Even the furniture! And the little cube just zipped back up the way it came.)

You're an abomination, Ms. York. There's no gooood in you at alllll! (The last Vegapunk sat in a sleigh that ran along it's own produced clouds with a grin, rubbing her belly swollen with snagged cookies, pilfered milk, soooo much eggnog (with plenty of booze mixed into it) and a thousand and one feasts compacted by the tuba-like device at her hip and uncompacting themselves in her gut, making her bloat and burp more. She looked over the mountains of gifts and decorations she stole from the towns below, smiling wickedly at the mental image of the people's faces when they awoke...only for it to fade when she heard thousands of voices singing, looking through her scope to see all the townspeople together in the square, looking happy in spite of it all.) You've got acid in your blood and the sight of you makes children bawl, Ms. Yoooooork! (York frowned as she beheld the town, feeling something well up in her chest and tears clouding her vision. The blonde seemed to come to an epiphany of sorts, looking between her stolen goods and the town with something resebling determination. She nodded to herself, drawing a flare gun, standing tall, and firing it just over the center of town. Watching it explode into bright sparkles with a wobbly smile as she wiped the tears away...) I wouldn't trust you with a glass of water and anyone that thinks you could be nice can just look right down, to see you laughing in! Heeeell's! Haaaaaaallllllss!!!

(A mass of clouds blanketed the sky above the town, with an ocean of rain following suit, the people soaked to their very cells and running back to their houses screaming and slipping. Vegapunk York cackled like a cartoon villain, rocking the sleigh back when her ass hit the seat and pounding her chest to get that last belch out before she rocketed away, stolen Christmas jingling all the way home.)

#temp muse: york #it took so long to make it rhyme

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kalevalakryze · 1 year ago

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Blood On The Ice

Chapter One: Muun Nynir

Characters: Sabine Wren, Shin Hati, Ahsoka Tano, Ezra Bridger, Tristan Wren, CT-7567 | Rex, CC-5576-39 | Gregor, CT-6116 | Kix,Bo-Katan Kryze, Koska Reeves, Axe Woves, Paz Vizsla, Trilla Suduri | Second Sister, Reva Sevander | Third Sister, Grand Inquisitor (Star Wars), Baylan Skoll, Hera Syndulla, Morgan Elsbeth, Fifth Brother (Star Wars) Relationships: Shin Hati/Sabine Wren, Alrich Wren/Ursa Wren, Ezra Bridger/Tristan Wren, C1-10P | Chopper/Marrok, Hera Syndulla/Ahsoka Tano, The Armorer (The Mandalorian TV)/Bo-Katan Kryze, Reva Sevander | Third Sister/Trilla Suduri | Second Sister, Shin Hati & Baylan Skoll, Ezra Bridger & Ahsoka Tano & Sabine Wren, Alrich Wren & Sabine Wren & Tristan Wren & Ursa Wren Tags: Alternate Universe - Hockey, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Blood and Injury, Enemies to Lovers, Slow Build, Hockey Fights, Hockey Injuries AO3 Link: Here! Word Count: 3,125

Notes: It's finally here! I've been working on this one chapter for the last two months! Gosh, so happy to get here right now! So some things to note, this series will take place across 3 acts, with a currently undefined chapter count on all, with obviously as seen in the series, some loose snippets floating around. This world was built by @thegirlsinthecity and myself, and while neither of us know everything about hockey, I think it's more about the fun we had putting this together over exact accuracy. (And yes, there are plans to return and update tags soon) So just some basic team lineups so it isn't all lost (And yes, more will be added slowly as I expand on the lines) Lothal Spectres: Sabine Wren, #5, Right Wing, Two-Way Forward Ahsoka Tano, #32, Center, Playmaker Ezra Bridger, #6, Left Wing, Grinder Tristan Wren, #60, Right Defense, Offensive Rex Fett, #51, Left Defense, Enforcer Gregor Fett, #39, Goalie, Hybrid Kix Fett, Team Medic Axe Woves, #17, Right Wing, Sniper Koska Reeves, #29, Left Wing, Playmaker Bo-Katan Kryze, #42, Center, Grinder Chopper: #00 Mascot Hera Syndulla, Coach/Owner Mercenaries: Shin Hati, #64, Left Wing, Enforcer Baylan Skoll, #87, Center, Playmaker Reva Sevander, #66, Right Wing, Two-Way Fifth Brother, #23, Right Defense, Offensive Trilla Suduri, #74, Left Defense, Enforcer Grant Inquisitor, #85, Goalie, Standup Cad Bane, #32, Center, Grinder Boba Fett, #1, Right Defense, Two-way Fennec Shand, #9, Left Defense, Enforcer Aurra Sing, #48, Right Wing, Playmaker Bossk, #54, Left Wing, Sniper Marrok, #26, Mascot Morgan Elsbeth, Owner

“You ready to get back out there, Sabine?” Ahsoka called from the other side of the locker room, securing her lekku in the padding so they wouldn’t risk injury or swing about and hurt someone.

Sabine looked up from the yellow and blue jersey in her hands, the Firebird emblazoned on the chest, and the number five stamped across the back and shoulders.

“You’ll figure it out, verd’ika,” Bo-Katan’s hand was heavy on her shoulder, warmth seeping through the thick shoulder pads as the older Mandalorian dropped to her side. “Shoot straight, don’t get hit. Rules haven’t changed on your way up to the big leagues.”

“But you need to be mindful of everyone on the ice,” Ahsoka cut the redhead off with a shake of her head as she settled on Sabine’s other side. “The Mercenaries are… better equipped than us. They’ve also had more time to train their rookie,”

“Run that one by me again?” The younger woman shrugged off Bo’s hand to tug the jersey over her head, brushing her fingers through her hair to fix it once the material was settled over all the padding.

“Shin Hati, some kind of college star, Merc’s Captain, Baylan Skoll, has been training her since she was a kid, I guess.” Sabine scoffed at the mention. Some kid whose connections got them the job, typical.

“Don’t underestimate your opponent, Sabine.” Ahsoka reprimanded gently as she started to lace up her skates. “Hati made a name for themselves in the pre-season, a dangerous one at that. You’ll need to keep your head out there.”

“Ahsoka, if anyone can keep their head out there, it’s Sabine,” Bo stood to her defense immediately, bringing a small smile to the younger Mandalorian’s lips. “You just gotta trust her, and also, hurry up. Clock’s ticking-” The redhead motioned to the loudspeaker announcing their time left before they needed to make their first appearance on the ice.

Grabbing her helmet, Bo offered Sabine one last look of mild sympathy. “You’ll be alright, ad’ika. Your aliit is with you,”

Trilla and Reva were laughing. The first game of the full season, and they were sitting there laughing. Shin was trying their best not to give them a moment of their time as she adjusted the light away uniform on her body, making sure the padding was covered and everything fell perfectly.

Stepping out into the hallway, Shin was greeted by Baylan exiting the men’s locker room as well. Their head dipped in a silent greeting as he fixed the chin straps of his helmet. “The Spectres have had a roster change since we last faced them,” He informed them as a greeting as they made their way down the hall towards the tunnels where the pounding feet and heavy bass made it hard to hear him properly.

Taking the sticks as they were handed out by Morgan who was working her way down the line of their emerging teammates, Baylan rested his hands on the top. “Their newest addition, Sabine Wren; has countless connections to many on the team, including her little brothers, Tristan Wren, and Ezra Bridger. Keep an eye on her, but be mindful of the positions on the ice.”

“Of course,” Shin nodded, silvery eyes glancing through the doors to catch the shining lights all over the yellow and blue arena. Lothal. If they never had to come back, it would be too soon.

There was no meeting or chant, nothing said between the players as the clock ticked by; not like the teams Shin had played for in college, which she was grateful for, really, the team bonding thing just wasn’t their vibe, and this team respected that quality in them all, but there may have been some part of them that itched at the lack of any acknowledgment from Morgan, who’s career counted on their wins.

The speakers thundered in their ears as the doors were pulled open to the ice. “Everybody welcome to the ice, your Lothal Spectres!” It was an older man on the intercom, someone who sounded as if he genuinely loved his job, like everyone at this blasted arena. The cheering grew tenfold as skates hit the ice. From behind Baylan, Shin could see the flashes of blue and yellow on the rink as the players took a lap.

“And your opponents for tonight, the Seatos Mercenaries!” Balanced on his blades, Baylan led their line down the tunnel. There wasn’t a big fanbase willing to travel across the galaxy to watch them. Still, they had a handful of devoted regulars reaching their hands into the tunnels, as well as some children and Spectres fans who didn’t seem to care, as long as somebody acknowledged them.

Shin paid none of them any mind, ducking out of the way of reaching hands, even as Baylan offered a tap of his glove into each one. The crushing feeling of anxiety melted the minute her skates touched the ice and she was allowed to break away. The music and screaming were still deafening, but now they had their favorite distraction in the form of muscles burning and the cool air in her face

“Well kid, there they are.” Bo-Katan called as she zipped past, sinking a puck into the empty net while Gregor caught up on his stretches to the side. “They’ve been calling ‘em Wolves, Kurs’kadedse.” Sparing a look to the opposing side of the ice, Sabine caught a pair of silver eyes locked onto her, eyes that continued to stare even as the Mandalorians caught them.

“That’s the one we were warning you about, Hati.”

“What the krif is she looking at?” Sabine huffed as she passed a puck between her skates before sending it flying towards the net, hitting the post before bouncing right into the netting.

Bo-Katan’s gaze drifted back to the ever-present stare on the other side of the ice. “I don’t know, but girl; please blink.” The redhead shook her head and turned her attention to the filling stands around them. “Seriously, I don’t think she’s blinked this entire time; could be something to use to our advantage.” The older Mandalorian clapped Sabine on the shoulder before taking off to the glass by their box to flick pucks over for the group of kids gathered on the other side.

Sabine dared one last glance back towards the Mercenaries side before shaking her head, she could deal with a little staring for be’gotal’ad sake, you didn’t look like she did and did not get used to all kinds of stares, this creepy… animalistic stare was nothing… Everything was fine….

Through the entire anthem, Sabine could feel the icy stare, determinedly, the Mandalorian focused on the ice, etching a groove with her skates as the anthem pulled to a close.

“So, she’s got some kind of staring problem,” Tristan was quick to announce, making Ezra laugh and nod his head.

“Yeah seriously, ‘bine, you’d think you personally went over there and insulted her mother, she didn’t look away from you once.” Ezra crossed his arms over his chest, the tip of his colorfully taped stick pressing under his chin and against the strap. “Be careful… Something feels off about them.”

“Seriously guys, I’ll be fine, it’s only the first game. I seriously doubt anyone will be out for blood,” Sabine shook off their worry with a dismissive wave of her hand as she glided to start.

Sabine didn’t have a chance to give the wolf on the ice much more of a single thought once they returned; The eyes on her were in the back of her mind the second the puck had dropped at center ice. Besides, she had plenty enough eyes on her the second she’d taken control of the puck and sank it right past the Inquisitor’s glove, sailing past his shoulder and smacking into the goalpost before finding a home in the white netting as the horns blared not even thirty seconds into the game.

Tristan was the first one on her, arms tight around his older sister as the rest of the team crowded her against the boards in celebration. The crowd was screaming, though it was dulled by the beating of her heart in her ears. “I knew you could do it!” Ezra shouted in her ear as Ahsoka’s hand pressed against the top of her helmet. Even Rex offered the Mandalorian a proud punch to the shoulder before finally allowing her some room.

The eyes on her from the other bench were deadly and predatory, as Sabine glided past, she watched a short woman leaning over the wall to talk to psycho-eyes. It was… disconcerting, but really, not her problem. As Sabine rolled into her first shift, Hera’s hand clamped down on her shoulder proudly. “That was a good run, we’re gonna send you on the next shift, watch for Bo-Katan’s signal.”

“Got it!” Sabine called over the roar of fans in the stadium, offering a smirk towards the camera when she glanced to the screens to see her name flashing on the humongotron, progressing to full laughter at the increase in noise from the crowd, before the cameras flipped back to the game.

“They love you, ‘bine!” Ezra called as he hopped the board, letting his shoulder bump into hers as he grabbed a bottle of water, nearly missing entirely when he squeezed the thin plastic to squirt it into his mouth.

Rex jumped over the boards then, smacking his gloved hand into Ezra’s hand for good measure. Sabine couldn’t hear his comment, but Ezra flipped him off anyway as the old timer went into the frey, catching Suduri in a hit that sent the behemoth of an enforcer to the ground.

There was a flash of the mirrored tint from Bo-Katan’s helmet as she turned her head towards the bench. There was no other signal to be sent her way, but as Wedge glided to the bench, she knew it was her time to jump back in.

Almost immediately, the Wolf was back on the ice, shifting as Sabine was crossing the neutral zone. Their head lowered, shoulders tilting forward as they streaked down middle ice. Sabine caught the puck as it was shot to her, clear for the moment in the breakaway. The puck smacked off the hook of her stick, pulling it in close to her body as she stuck to the wall. The wolf was gaining ground on her, fast.

Golden eyes flashed across the ice. Ezra was almost clear… If he could just catch her gaze; Blue met gold, the puck soared across the ice, missing gloves and sicks as it went. It hit the edge of his skate as he broke away from the towering defense. Sabine didn’t get to see what he did with the puck, catching a heavily padded shoulder square in the chest that sent her down to the ice.

“Learn to take a hit,” Her attacker growled from above as the play was called dead. One of the linesmen pulled to the wolf as Tristan rushed over to help her up. As the penalty animation played on screen and zoomed in on the wolf for roughing, Sabine could swear she saw a flash of teeth as the Keldorian ref pulled her to the box.

“Gotal’ad, verd’ika!” Bo-Katan exclaimed as she pulled to Sabine’s other side, gloved hand pressing into her back and fixing the bright jersey. “What did you do to them?”

“Literally nothing!” The purple haired woman groaned dramatically, shaking out muscles they knew would be overly sore the next day. “She’s fucking insane!.”

“It was a valid hit though, little Wren,” Rex called as he pulled into the circle, shrugging his shoulder nonchalantly as the Mercenaries penalty killers lined up.

“Shut up, old man,” Sabine grumbled as she settled in.

The ref dropped the puck, backing out of the two spitfires that were Bo-Katan Kryze and third-line center, Moff Gideon. Shoulders smashed together, skates scratched into ice, and sticks smacked into each other, until at last, Bo managed to kick the puck free, passing it to Ezra, who swung it across to Koska, then Axe. As the Spectre’s raced down the ice to take advantage of the five-on-four, the Mercenaries fought like hell to stop the assault.

Sabine was streaking up the middle with Reva on her tail, pushing her closer and closer to the boards. Reva was bigger, but Sabine was faster, pushing the puck between her skates every time a black and red taped stick reached across to poke the puck from her unrelenting control. Rex pulled in next, pushing his way between the offensive right defense and the two-way forward.

Getting Reva off her back was everything Sabine needed as she pulled into the Goalie’s space, Axe swinging around the left side goalpost to screen the Inquisitor, taking that half a second of attention away from her as she kicked the puck from where it sat between her feet. The windup was fast, sending the puck flying from the toe of her stick.

The Inquisitor dropped into a butterfly, but it was too late, the puck sailed past the closing edges of his pads and sank into the net, the loud goal horn echoing through the arena, quickly drowned out by the explosion of cheers from the crowd as Sabine’s arms went up into the air. “Yes! That’s how you get it done!” She shouted, her voice unheard with all the noise.

Gleaming golden eyes turned to the crowd as Bo-Katan slammed into her, arms wrapping around her as Axe, Koska, Tristan, and Paz all joined in, almost slamming their huddle into the boards in their celebration. The only thing that altered the high of her joy was the heavy weight of predatory eyes, their weight intensifying as the Mercenaries winger was released from the penalty box.

Eleven minutes left in the period, Spectres up by two, the crowd was electric, and Sabine’s heart was thumping comfortably in her chest, each time she glanced back at Hera, the beaming smile only made her light up more. As they pulled back to center ice, Sabine spared one last glance at the crowd, lips twisting when she caught sight of Ursa’s familiar yellow and grey coat in the stadium’s loudville level, phone raised, no doubt zoomed in to catch her kids on the ice.

“Tristan!” She called as he came into his position at her right. “Buir is taking a picture, stop looking dumb,” This earned a barking laugh from him as Ezra and Koska switched out.

“Yeah yeah, don’t hog all the limelight, ‘bine!”

A growl from the opposing side had Sabine looking away from her brother. “You got a problem, kurs’kaded?” Sabine shot to the enforcer that sat on the other side of the blue line. The blonde only sneered and settled in, shoulders hunched forward and silver eyes breaking away from Sabine for probably the first time all day. “That’s what I thought,”

The next break came with a renowned intensity. Whatever the small coach on the Mercenaries lines said must have been particularly seething, with each forward all but bowling the spectre line over the moment the puck dropped.

The puck was passed between wolf, to Sudari, Sevander, Skoll, then wolf again. Hera signalled for Sabine to shift, though it went ignored as the young Mandalorian managed to get her stick out, shoving the puck out of the wolf’s grasp. She slid carefully, hearing their skates scrape and grind as she spun around to take control.

The race back to the Mercenaries goal was intense, a five on one break away that had Sabine already tensing up to get hit the further she pushed it, legs exhausting as she worked; Bo-Katan had already shifted, and Koska had switched with Rex this time.

“Wren is breaking away! All alone crossing into Mercenary ice!”

“Here comes Hati, closing in fast-”

“Ohhh that one has got to hurt!”

The wolf’s shoulder smacked into her, their stick tangling in her skates in an illegal hook that sent her to the ground. Sabine hit the ice hard, sliding into the boards as they released their hold. The shrill whistle was sharp and skull splitting, but still, Sabine managed to get up, catching the venomous heaviness in dark eyes that tracked her recovery. The wolf turned away from her, igniting a spark of anger in her stomach.

“Seems like Wren isn’t going to let that hit stand!”

The cheers that followed Sabine throwing her gloves and stick to the ground were loud and thunderous, but no more than her own heart as the almost bored look in Hati’s gaze turned into one of excitement. The scouts had noted that the wolf played with her food, and right now, Sabine was a four course meal.

Her knuckles connected with their jaw almost as soon as her glove bounced off the ice. Heavy hands shoved into her to keep her back, though she could tell already that the bony knuckle of her middle finger had managed to split skin, red bubbling up onto a pale canvas quickly.

There wasn’t much time to focus on the renowned look in their eyes when a gloved hand launched into her face, smacking her head back off the glass hard enough to bring black spots to her eyes, though the second hit, ungloved, and right into the sliver of space between the pads right into her kidneys was the one that sent her to the ground, knees hitting the ice hard enough to make her bones ache.

The crowd was screaming and cheering at the fight, smaller fights broke out on the ice around them, and Sabine could just barely see Skoll, shouting past the line of refs and yellow and white jerseys as he tried to call them off of her as Ahsoka and Kix struggled to rush through the traffic. Fans were throwing things onto the ice, and a cold hand bashed into her face at least two more times, the skin of her lip splitting under torn knuckles, even as hot blood raced down the back of her head, staining her own jersey an almost orange color as the ichor bled into the bright yellows.

Sabine’s vision swam, fists swinging weakly out, hands grasping at the white of their jersey, staining it with her own blood, trying to keep them from swinging any more. By the time Baylan managed to drag them off of her, Sabine’s vision was just a pinprick, barely managing to catch the look on Ahsoka’s face as she and Hera raced to try and catch her, darkness enveloping them in the hazy warmth of blood loss and the deafening sound of fans screaming.

Translations: Muun Nynir - Hard Hit verd'ika - little warrior ad'ika - little one aliit - family Kurs’kadedse - wolves for be’gotal’ad sake - for the sake of the maker Gotal’ad, verd’ika - Maker, little warrior

#wolfwren #sabine wren #shin hati #ahsoka tano #baylan skoll #reva sevander #trilla suduri #star wars #hockey #hockey au #ahsoka series #ahsoka #bo katan kryze #fic

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ashes-2-ashes57cba · 7 months ago

Text

The Bad Batch: Specter

Episode 10: Common Ground

edited by: @ryleeeeeenn warnings: I swear, Specter's on laughing gas in this episode, I don't know why I wrote her like this

The Bad Batch walked together through the streets of Ord Mantell back to Cid’s parlor; Omega sat on Wrecker’s shoulders, happily munching away at her snack.

“How’s the Mantell Mix, kid?” he asked. The girl nodded, dropping a piece into Wrecker’s mouth.

“Better than ever,” she answered.

“Yeah, it is,” he laughed in agreement. Specter smiled at the merriment but still kept her eyes on their surroundings, keeping an eye out for any suspicious characters possibly after them.

“So, when’s our next mission?” Omega asked.

“With two bounty hunters after you, it’d be wise to keep a low profile,” Tech turned to advise. Hunter stopped the group.

“Tech’s right,” he said, helping Omega jump down from Wrecker, “there's too much heat on us right now.”

“Ha! That never stopped us before,” Wrecker jeered. Specter pulled him aside.

“Hey, she’s just a kid, not a soldier. She isn’t trained like we are and has been through enough. She needs a break,” Specter scolded in a hiss. They watched as Echo sniffed at the Mantell Mix, Omega and Tech watching, amused by the gesture.

“She seems fine to me,” Wrecker shrugged. Specter sighed, rolling her eyes.

“Some scars aren’t always visible,” she muttered. She followed Hunter into Cid’s place; indistinct music played quietly in the background as they all took a seat at the bar. The Trandoshan came around with a gleam in her eye and a task obviously already in mind.

“I’ve got a mission for you boys,” she said, “a simple extraction on Raxus.”

“Raxus?” Tech perked up. “That is the former center of the Separatist government. It has since become an Imperial outpost–”

“I’m not interested in a history lesson, Goggles,” Cid interrupted. Specter already had a feeling the job lined up for them was time-sensitive. “You’re being hired to locate and free Senator Avi Singh from his confinement.” She pulled up a hologram of the senator. He was a darker-skinned man with a thick white mustache, and he certainly dressed like a Senator. Specter glanced at Omega, who was eagerly focused on Cid’s words; she was worried about the girl being out in the field again so soon, especially on a Separatist-turned-Imperial planet. “My client will meet you at the given coordinates to brief you. Details are on this. Now get going,” Cid tossed the data card to Tech, but Hunter caught it instead.

“Help a Separatist? Not gonna happen,” Hunter refused, throwing the card back to Cid. Specter almost sighed in relief.

“Your debt’s still not paid, remember? A job’s a job,” the Trandoshan insisted. Hunter brought her aside, out of Omega’s range of hearing. Specter stood just out of sight, listening in on them.

“I am not bringing Omega to a planet swarming with Imperials,” Hunter explained.

“So leave her here with me. I’ll keep an eye on her,” Cid offered. Specter almost scoffed; after the ordeal of getting her back to them from Cad Bane and Fennec Shand, she was not so willing to leave Omega in someone else’s care. She could tell Hunter felt the same way.

“I don’t exactly trust you either,” he said.

“Good. You shouldn’t. But if keeping the kid safe means more money in my pocket, it’s in my best interest to do so, isn’t it?” Cid reasoned. Specter hated that she had a point.

“If anything happens to her…” Hunter threatened.

“Yeah, yeah, Bandana. And just so we’re clear, I’m more afraid of Shorty than I am of you. Just get outta here,” Cid said, shoving the data chip at him before walking away. Hunter glanced at Specter, who turned her head away just in time so she wouldn’t get caught. He shook his head and went over to tell Omega the news. The girl smiled up at him, adjusting the strap of her energy bow.

“Ready when you are, Sergeant,” she said, saluting. Hunter knelt down.

“Not this time, Omega. You’re staying with Cid,” he explained. Omega’s face turned to one of confusion and disappointment.

“But th-the mission. I’m a part of this squad too.”

“Then following orders shouldn’t be a problem.” Specter went to speak but bit her tongue.

Following orders was never really this squad’s forte, she mused to herself. She winced at her next thought. Crosshair would laugh if he could see us now.

“Stay close to Cid, and don’t leave this parlor. Got it, soldier?” Hunter continued to instruct Omega with a hand on the girl’s shoulder. Omega groaned, rolling her eyes.

“Yes, sir,” she grumbled. Hunter nodded and stood up, walking with the boys out of the parlor; Wrecker patted the girl’s shoulder as he passed.

“We’re trying to keep you safe, Omega. After you had to deal with two bounty hunters at once, we’d rather have you lay low for a little while,” Specter explained, placing a gentle hand on the girl’s hair. Omega slouched, now saddened.

“I know. I just wish he would trust me,” she said.

“He does trust you, hun,” she knelt to the girl’s level, “you’re just as much a part of this squad as any of us. But you’re also a little girl. You have a whole life ahead of you, and you get the opportunity to have a childhood… that’s something we didn’t get. I’m sorry you have to miss out on this one, but Hunter’s right. We were created to fight the separatists, and we fought them for years. So, helping one on a planet swarming with Imperials has us worried. Do you understand that, Omega?” She nodded, a little more understanding of the situation. Specter smiled and patted her head before taking her leave.

“Be safe out there,” Omega called after her.

“Thank you, hun. We’ll be back soon,” Specter winked and waved farewell before catching up with the squad.

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

“We’ve never been to Raxus before,” Wrecker said, entering the cockpit. Specter stood, leaning against his chair.

“The coordinates from Cid have us landing outside the capital city of Raxulon, the home of their Senate,” Tech said.

“I can’t believe we’re helping a Separatist senator,” Echo grumbled, arm and scomp-link crossed. Specter rolled her eyes and bit back a sigh.

“So you have said. Repeatedly,” Tech quipped back instead.

“I’m with Tech; if I hear anyone else complain about this job, then I’ll give you something else to complain about,” she threatened, giving pointed glances to Hunter and Echo. Neither met her gaze.

“I always thought we’d make it to Raxus someday. But not like this,” commented Hunter. Raxus was a popular destination among the clones; being the center of the Separatist government, many of them hoped to make it there during the war and be the ones to win the planet back for the Republic. That hope was gone now and replaced with the hope they would complete this job for credits.

Tech dropped them out of lightspeed, the ship quickly descended into the atmosphere of the planet ahead. Specter heard more words of admiration for the planet’s natural beauty than she did tales of battle. They flew through the fluffy clouds of its skies, navigating their way through the airspace until two patrol craft flew by, blocking their path and slowing them down.

“Unidentified transport, this is restricted airspace. Transmit your clearance code,” the trooper said over comms.

“Input the codes from Cid’s client,” Hunter instructed. Specter started to bring her hand up, trying to fight the urge to nibble on her nails in nervous anticipation again as they waited for a response.

“Hunter, the client is a Separatist. How do we know this isn’t a trap?” speculated Echo. He didn’t get an answer, as the trooper replied back to them.

“You’re clear for entry. Proceed,” he said before he and his wingman flew off.

“Now are you convinced?” Tech asked, teasing a little.

“No,” Echo answered, still frowning.

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

The ship landed in the red-leaved forest, a few klicks away from the city. Specter held her rifle ready as they exited the Marauder, observing their surroundings as well as the appealing scenery.

“I am simply stating the fact the codes did, in fact, work. The client being a Separatist is not relevant,” Tech said behind her.

“It is to me,” Echo argued. She groaned and turned back toward them

“Will you two just shut up? I am so close to shooting both of you in the mouth,” she hissed.

“Specter’s right,” Hunter said. “Forget politics. We’re here to do a job.”

“I am very pleased to hear you say that,” a voice said from nowhere. They all raised their blasters, watching as a droid emerged from behind a tree.

“Who are you?” Tech asked.

“I am your client,” the droid answered.

“Can I still shoot it?” Specter whispered before Hunter pushed down her rifle.

“We’re working for a droid?” Wrecker said, speculating the situation.

“That is correct,” the droid answered, “my master, Senator Singh, was arrested for speaking out against the unjust occupation-”

“We don’t care,” Echo interrupted.

“Just take us to where the senator’s being held,” Hunter ordered.

“Right to it. I like you,” the droid said. “Very well. Follow me.” It waved them along; Echo hesitated, groaning, before following the others through the forest. Even though the area was void of Imperial soldiers, Specter, out of habit, made sure to keep her footsteps quiet and the traces of her presence nearly invisible.

Sneaking into the city was easier than they expected. Patrols passed by between large intervals with only a few troops marching, accompanied by a walker. They reached the front gate of a building complex, out of sight behind bushes across the street.

“We have reached our destination,” the droid said. Tech lowered his visor and Specter looked through her rifle scope, standing behind Hunter and using his shoulder as a mount.

“There are six exterior guards and multiple heat signatures inside. Four in the subterranean level,” Tech reported.

“Why do I get the feeling you’re setting us up?” Echo accused, pushing the droid back against the wall.

“It is against my programming to send my allies into danger,” it answered simply.

“We ain’t allies, tin bin,” Wrecker growled.

“Ha ha, ‘tin bin’,” Specter said with a laugh.

“Enough,” he said, turning towards the other two. “We need to take out the compound’s surveillance system. Move in.” They all followed Hunter and his order, advancing toward the complex. Keeping out of sight of the cameras and quieting any guards in their path, they found a blindspot by a separate entrance into the complex. Tech signaled there were two guards at the door.

“Time to make yourself useful,” Hunter said, shoving the droid forward. Specter giggled as she moved back out of sight with the others.

“I do not possess a military skill set for a tactical advantage,” the droid mumbled.

“We’re counting on it,” Hunter assured. They waited for the droid to lure the troopers toward them with its bumbling antics; it ran back towards them with the soldiers only a few steps behind, telling the droid to stop. Once they were in range, the Batch knocked out the soldiers and advanced toward the gate, letting the droid open it and lead them inside. Waiting for a patrol pair to pass, they advanced again to a doorway, letting Tech do his thing.

“I am tapped into their security system,” he reported.

“You two, clear the upper levels,” Hunter ordered Wrecker and Echo. They nodded and went inside.

“Let me guess: Namesake?” Specter said, already stowing her rifle away.

“Exactly. They’ll figure out we’re here one way or another, so we’ll need to know when, how, and where,” confirmed Hunter.

“I’ll look for possible escape routes too, free of charge. See you later,” mused Specter, heading inside and promptly disappearing. “Namesake” was a plan devised solely for Specter, in which she would live up to her name; unseen by their enemy, she would gather advantageous information and watch over her team like a ghost. A specter.

She snuck around corners and made her way through crawlspaces and vents, leaving no trace or glimpse of herself for anyone to see, including the cameras—not even Tech would be able to detect her. Specter found Wrecker and Echo sweeping through the third level, finding only two patrol troops that were easily silenced. She moved on, confident they would fulfill their task. The roof was deemed the best possible escape route, after all, Imperial troops would need to come in from the ground floor entrances in order to reach them.

“Sarge, I got us an escape route. We’ll be taking the roof. You find that senator, yet?” she asked over comms.

“Affirmative, we just got him. Echo and Wrecker already confirmed the upper floors are clear.”

“Confirmed. We—wait a moment,” she paused, looking out the window from her hidden corner. All of the soldiers previously on patrol were no longer at their stations; to an amateur, it would have been a good sign. “I’m not liking the look of things. We need to move,” said Specter, tensely.

“Copy that. Relay to the others.” Specter repeated the information to Echo and Wrecker; by the time the others had made it to the roof, Specter was already there, waiting for them.

“Welcome to the party. Main entrance is completely cut off, we need another way down and out.” She looked everyone over, glad to see her squad as well as the two guests.

“There,” Hunter said, pointing over the far ledge. Tech, Echo, and Specter peered over alongside him. “We’ll seize that tank and blow our way outta here.”

“How do you intend to gain control of the armored vehicle from up here?” the droid quested, obviously doubting their skills and sounding exasperated—and for some reason, holding a vase.

“Coming through,” Wrecker said, shoving between them, taking aim, and firing a grappling round at the tank.

“Nice shot,” Specter commented. Tech and Echo slid down the line, taking control of the walker with great efficiency.

“All clear,” Tech reported as it came to a stop.

“Impressive,” the droid commented.

“After you,” Wrecker offered Specter, mimicking a courteous gentleman. She snickered and slid down the line with ease. Tech was already at the controls, getting himself familiar. Wrecker arrived with the disheveled senator under his arm, as did Hunter with the droid.

“Alright, let’s get moving, Tech,” Specter said. The tank lurched forward, walking at a steady pace. Wrecker tossed out the unconscious soldiers with almost too much glee.

“They’ll feel that in the morning,” he jeered. Specter held on as they made their escape, trying to formulate any sort of idea to get them out of this mess. Something hit them from behind, almost breaching the hull and sending smoke and shockwaves through the tank, making it tumble to a stop. Specter lost her balance, almost falling into Echo.

“The rear axel stabilizer is off-line. We will need to calibrate manually,” Tech reported.

“Get this bucket up and running,” Hunter ordered before turning toward the others. “Wrecker, Specter, and I will hold them off.” The Batch jumped out of the tank as another approached, still occupied by Imperials. Echo and Tech deviated off to start repairs while the other three ran ahead. Hunter ran forward, sliding and stunning oncoming troopers; Specter was behind him, using her shotgun to blast at the walker’s vulnerable joints. Its steps staggered but didn’t stop. Wrecker climbed up the front, using his brute strength to move the top cannon away.

“No, you don’t!” Wrecker grunted. It fired at a distant building. Specter appeared behind the operator and stunned him.

“Wrecker,” Hunter called out, tossing a grenade to him.

“Oh!” he eagerly laughed, tossing it into the walker, knocking out everyone inside once it detonated. The tank came to a complete stop. “Oh, yeah!” he cheered.

“Incoming!” Specter shouted just as a cannon shell hit the building next to them. They ducked from the blast, hopping off the disabled tank as another came flying towards them. Imperial reinforcements arrived just as the three ducked for cover. “The pay better be worth it for all this. Or at least hope this senator tips well,” she said, firing at oncoming troops.

“Tech, how we doing?” Hunter asked over comms.

“I need more time,” he answered.

“Ah, wouldn’t that be nice, if we all had more time in our life?” Specter mused, almost mindlessly firing at the soldiers.

“Sarge, I think Specter’s getting ‘battle brain’,” Wrecker said to Hunter, who shook his head.

“Repairs complete,” Tech announced just in time.

“We’re on our way.” Hunter led the other two back to regroup, jumping into the tank just as Tech powered it on. They soon got to walking again, making their escape from the Empire closing in.

“Turn down that alleyway,” the senator said, pointing ahead.

“We’ll be trapped in a choke point,” Tech pointed out with a glare. Specter tensed, wondering if the senator’s intentions were truly worth anything.

“You have to trust me,” he assured. Tech looked to Hunter, who nodded in approval before advancing toward the alley. They were hit several times; smoke filled the interior, and Specter was pretty sure something was leaking. “Move into position next to that wall. It leads to a subterranean passage,” Senator Singh instructed next. Tech parked the walker next to the wall, the entrance flush against it. The senator entered the main hull, opening the door and feeling the wall. “If you don’t mind, please blast a hole in the wall right here.”

“That I can do,” Wrecker said, eagerly pulling out a detonator and placing it on the wall. They closed the door and let the explosion open up the wall. Specter was the first to inspect the tunnel, finding it stable and clear of Imperials.

“Not bad, Senator. We’re all good,” she announced. The droid helped Senator Singh over the rubble into the tunnel.

“Hurry. This way,” he urged, pointing down the tunnel once everyone was out of the tank. The Bad Batch followed him, but Specter stopped Wrecker before he went too far.

“Ahp ahp ahp! Close the door behind you, Wreck,” she teased. He groaned and backtracked, placing another explosive on the wall by the other hole they blasted, sealing off the tunnel, allowing them all to escape.

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

They didn’t stop running until they were deep in the forest. Specter led the group, impressed that both the senator and droid were able to relatively keep up. She practically smiled at the sight of the Marauder opening its doors to them. However, the senator paused before setting foot on the ramp after the Batchers.

“What am I doing?” he muttered, turning back towards where they came from, although no one could see the city from where they were. “I cannot abandon my people. I must help them.”

“You will, Senator, but not if you are in Imperial custody,” the droid said, reassuring but firm.

“She’s right,” Echo chimed in next to him. “Live to fight another day.” Specter watched the senator sigh before turning to step foot on the ship. In the end, she decided he wasn’t bad for a Separatist, and she understood his conflict. It was a difficult choice to leave one's people behind to live and fight for them another day. Perhaps she understood that conflict a little too well, wanting to stay and bring Crosshair back to them, but also wanting to live and survive, to protect what she currently had.

Tech and Echo got them off the ground and flew away back to Ord Mantell. Senator Singh was strapped in for the majority of the ride, conversing with his droid about their next steps. Specter had checked in with everyone, asking about any possible injuries, which thankfully, there were none. She went to Hunter, who sat at the inner console, keeping an eye out on Imperial chatter.

“Everyone’s cleared, Sarge,” she reported, leaning over his shoulder.

“Good. What would we do without you, Spec?” he teased, looking up at her.

“Probably die,” she muttered. He chuckled and rolled his eyes, flicking away a piece of her hair, now free from her helmet. Silence passed between them for a moment.

“I… there was a moment I forgot Omega wasn’t on the mission with us,” he admitted. “Do you think she’s alright?”

“I do. Omega’s a tough girl who’s already been through a lot,” Specter affirmed but continued. “But she was upset after you left, you know. She didn’t feel like you trusted her.” Hunter looked up at her, surprised, before nodding, understanding, and admitting he had to fix it. “You better talk to her. And I know you’re just as scared of me as Cid is. Maybe even a little more if you’re smart.”

“Were you listening in on our conversation?” Hunter asked, but Specter was already walking away.

“You can’t prove it either way, Hunt.”

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

The group walked back to Cid’s parlor, surrounding the senator and droid. They were met with a curious sight—several patrons excitedly entered the parlor, cheering about something.

“What’s all this?” Wrecker wondered aloud as someone pushed past them towards the door. Hunter led them inside, although there was almost no standing room as tons of people were gathered around one of the dejarak tables.

“No one can stop this kid!” someone cheered.

“Of course,” Hunter sighed once he saw what was going on. Specter gasped, caught up in the excitement as Omega sat across from her opponent. Cid stood by the girl as the opponent considered his next play. He moved his character across the board, right into the range of Omega’s own character.

“Rookie mistake,” she muttered. The young girl smirked, defeating her opponent and winning the game. Specter cheered alongside everyone.

“Oh, she did it again!” someone cheered. Cid and Omega caught sight of the returned Batch through the crowd; the girl pushed through and ran to greet them while the Trandoshan dispersed everyone.

“Alright, the show’s over. No more bets,” she said.

“Kid, where’d you learn to do that?” asked Wrecker, lifting the girl up into his arms.

“She’s a natural. I’ve never seen anything like it,” Cid complimented. Omega beamed. Specter ruffled the girl's hair, causing her to giggle.

“I told you to keep a low profile. This is the opposite,” Hunter scolded, his voice low. Omega’s smile faltered; she hung her head, but Cid slapped his arm.

“Ease up, Bandana. Omega made enough money to pay off the debt you boys owe me, so try showing a little gratitude to my friend,” she said, walking by. “You did good,” she said to Omega. “Senator, glad you made it. Let’s talk payment.” The Trandoshan ushered Senator Singh and his droid toward her office, as did Echo, Tech, and Wrecker once he set Omega down and gave Hunter a pointed look. Specter walked past as well, putting a firm hand on Hunter’s shoulder and bringing him close.

“Fix it. Now,” she whispered before joining the others. She trusted him to keep to his word and make it right.

#f!oc #star wars #star wars oc #tbb hunter x oc #tbb hunter #the bad batch #sw tbb #tbb crosshair #tbb oc #tbb tech #tbb wrecker #tbb echo #tbb omega #clone force 99

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theartgremlin2 · 2 years ago

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I have seen a lot of people wondering why Hunter and by extension Echo, Tech and Wrecker have allowed Omega to use a weapon that doesn’t have a stun setting. They are, in essence, making her kill lots of people, and treating it as though it has little consequence. I’m not sure how many times Omega has shot people throughout the show, but it has never been addressed (probably mostly because the primary audience are roughly 9-13 year-olds who aren’t quite prepared to face their own mortality yet)

To those of you who think this is a problem, let me remind you that Omega is small. She’s undoubtedly ready to scrap with the best of ‘em, but that doesn’t mean she can win. She was lifted clean off her feet by the corrie guard in s1e1, and Cad Bane had very little trouble moving her around when he could keep his grip on her. The fact of the matter is: Omega’s life is full of very dangerous people who can absolutely kill her if they want to. The Batch are arming their kid for a one-shot kill because it’s very likely one shot is all she’s getting in a situation where she’s fighting alone.

And this isn’t just a defense of an aesthetics-based decision by the Bad Batch team. This is an actual principle of self-defense. As somebody who has had training with a gun for self-defense, you are taught that if the person is coming at you, you aim for the center of mass. That means their chest.

Now, you’re also taught to never point a loaded weapon at someone you don’t intend to shoot, which is something Omega has done before. Clearly Hunter and Echo need to go over gun safety rules with her again.

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learnovatetraining · 1 year ago

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victoriams · 2 years ago

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ɪ ᴀᴍ ᴛʜᴇ ʙᴀᴅ ᴅᴀᴜɢʜᴛᴇʀ, ᴛʜᴇ ꜰʀᴇᴇᴅᴏᴍ ꜰɪɢʜᴛᴇʀ, ᴛʜᴇ ꜱʜᴀᴘᴇʀ ᴏꜰ ᴅᴇᴀᴛʜ ᴍᴀꜱᴋꜱ. ɪ ᴀᴍ ᴛʜᴇ ꜱɴᴀᴋᴇ. ɪ ᴀᴍ ᴛʜᴇ ᴄʀᴏɴᴇ.

lucy boynton . cis woman . she/her ➶ I RECOGNISE THAT FACE ! that’s LIVINIA CRANE , the TWENTY-EIGHT year old GAMEMAKER from THE CAPITOL . they’ve been in the capitol around HER WHOLE LIFE , long enough to gain a reputation for being so POISED & OSTENTATIOUS . they’re so lucky getting to live in the tribute center for the duration of the games! ( character ISN’T part of the uprising )

STATISTICS

FULL NAME livinia diana crane

NICKNAMES liv, livi

DATE OF BIRTH may 26, 66th year

AGE twenty-eight

DISTRICT capitol

ROLE gamemaker

GENDER cis woman

ORIENTATION bisexual biromantic

PERSONALITY

POSITIVE TRAITS intelligent, poised, strategic

NEGATIVE TRAITS selfish, ostentatious, callous

MBTI intj-a – the architect

ENNEAGRAM type 1 – the reformer

MORAL ALIGNMENT lawful neutral

DEADLY SIN pride

HEAVENLY VIRTUE diligence

ZODIAC gemini

CHARACTER PARALLELS shiv roy, succession / claire, fleabag / natalie berzatto, the bear / madelyn stillwell, the boys / michaela pratt, how to get away with murder / blair waldorf, gossip girl / abigail armstrong, dance academy

RELATIONSHIPS

AUGUSTUS CRANE, SENIOR father

RHEA CRANE mother, deceased

AURELIUS CRANE older half-brother

AUGGIE CRANE older sister

MAXIM CRANE twin brother

PRIAM PLINTH husband

BIOGRAPHY

You do not come into this world alone.

Well, this isn't entirely true – you exist in the world for exactly twenty five minutes and thirty-nine seconds before your brother, your twin, your other half – Maxim, arrives, kicking and screaming and demanding your parents' attention. Unfortunately for both of you, two older siblings wait outside of your mother's delivery room, eagerly anticipating the arrival of their new baby brother and sister. They are the heir, Aurelius; and the spare, Auggie. What does that make you and Maxim? Little more than decorative ornaments, bodies to fill up space in the family portraits. Two extra names at the end of birthday cads. Two extra plates at dinner.

There are exactly three things all Crane children have in common – blonde hair, delicate features, and that you are trained to thrive on attention. You all learn to find it in different ways. Aurelius finds it wherever he goes – your father's firstborn, the only child with the genes of his beloved – he seems to do nothing and have everything. He even wins your mother's favour. He is strong, powerful, and disciplined. Your father says he will inherit the earth, one day. Auggie fluctuates between finding attention by being the perfect foot soldier, and by being a wrecking ball. Your father punishes this. When Auggie exists within the mould she has been assigned, your father promises great things. Promises her the kingdom, if Aurelius cannot take it. A step out of line, and she is charged with treason. Your father watches with an eagle eye – he dares her to defy him. She cannot get away with the things Aurelius does by being the golden child, nor what you do by being forgotten. You think it is the scraps of attention, of hope, that keep her coming back.

For you and Maxim, attention is much harder to come by. You're not sure whether your parents had even wanted any more children. They had their heir, their spare – and sometimes you think that Maxim and you had been unfortunate byproducts of an ill-fated tryst. You are never particularly close with either of your parents. Maybe they had loved each other, once, but by the time you are old enough to recognise it, any affection is long gone. You don't know why the wedge exists between them – maybe your mother could never live up to the woman she'd replaced. Or maybe your father resents the way she bleeds his resources dry. But, apparently, you remind him of her. Unlike Maxim and Auggie, you possess your mother's features. Her pointed nose, her pale face. Even her demeanour, to a certain extent. Your father resents you for this, and he fails to see you beyond a pale, and far less useful, imitation of the woman he'd married.

Your father may not be your father's daughter, but you are certainly your mother's. She tends to you like her own personal garden, sewing poisonous seeds that will forever be rooted in the back of your mind. She can never decide whether she loves or hates you; whether she wants to use you to correct her own mistakes, or send you down the same treacherous path out of spite. You had been a sweet child, once. You had loved dancing and music. You were afraid of the dark and monsters under your bed. You don't remember that girl now. Your mother said that softness wouldn't serve you in the long run, and so she eradicated it. She teaches you to look in the mirror and despise what you see – to strive for better. To starve and groom yourself until you can no longer be criticised. To hide your teeth behind a smile, to never display weakness. She tells you that you have started life at a disadvantage – that the only way you will ever make it in this world is through underhanded tricks and strategic alliances – nobody will ever give you anything for free.

You hunger for perfection. You hunger for her approval. You hunger for your father's love. You will always be hungry.

We would, of course, be remiss to talk about your childhood without mentioning your twin. Maxim exists by your side as a shadow. Save for your shared birthday and upbringing, you have little else in common. And yet, he is the person you feel closest to in the world. He is the only person who has ever existed on equal ground – looked at you, not as a competitor, or an asset, or a liability, but as a friend. He is also the only one who can see past the facade build. You had quickly learned that scrutiny hurts less when your exterior is made of stone. Easier to be criticised when you know the person they critique is a fabrication – made up, not you. Maxim sees through it, and, in turn, you see through his loud, blustering, careless charade. Maybe it really is a twin thing, or maybe you just both know how to craft yourselves into something you aren't. You both know how to identify the gaps in a structure and squeeze yourself into them. You become ice – cold, calculated, indifferent. Maxim becomes fire – warm, raucous, passionate.

You are married when you are twenty. It hadn't been your idea, but you go along with it nonetheless. At the time, you are your mother's only eligible daughter, and she seeks to secure your family's social and financial status with a neat little union. You won't get anywhere without a husband on your arm, Livinia. At the time, her words had felt like gospel. At the time, you had been a sickly, wretched thing – living off scraps of love and affection and little else. Begging simply to be seen, to fill the void inside of you. At the time, you think that maybe marriage will fix you. That it will satisfy the relentless hunger that has existed within you since you were a girl. Your mother seems to think that it will, anyway. Priam is a decent enough candidate – the second born son from a well-off family. He is a few years your senior, chivalrous and kind. He takes a position at your family's company along with your hand.

You are married, and yet you are still hungry. Garden parties and book clubs and gala dinners bore you. The idea of children nauseates you. You watch Priam go off to work each day and realise you have nothing to keep yourself occupied, you are alone in a big, beautiful, empty, dreadful house. Your parents have pushed you from one cage and into another – but you come to realise that they have forgotten to lock the door. Outside of their house, you feel more free than you ever have in your life. You may not have chosen Priam, and you are not sure if you will ever love him as you are supposed to, but he cares for you. He supports you. It is not something you have experienced before. Maybe you are selfish, but you cling to it, you consume it, like a ravenous creature. You cling not to your husband, or the vows you had made, but the sanctuary he provides, the way his doting makes you feel. You become more emboldened – dressing in different clothes, speaking your own mind. You enjoy things – not for others, but for yourself. And yet, freedom and affection do not satisfy your hunger.

You had never really given much thought to what the future held in store for you – part of you, buried and subdued, had always longed for greatness. That part of you had wanted the throne, but the more rational part of your mind knows it was never going to be yours. Your father and your siblings have made this abundantly clear. But, without the constant, overwhelming pressure to be the perfect daughter, you realise you want something. You have wasted your life hungering for attention, for respect, for love – but now you turn your appetite towards something more substantial – glory.

You take inspiration from your late uncle, and manage to secure yourself a role as an apprentice gamemaker. It is the perfect fit for somebody like you – so clinical, calculating, methodical. Your parents do not approve of the choice – your mother, because it does not follow the plan she had made for you; your father, because it is the job that had gotten his brother killed, that had cast a stain on your family's name for almost two decades. Where you once would have shrivelled, you hold firm. You rise through the ranks quickly – you become known not for your name, or your looks, or your husband, but for your skill, your intelligence, your wit. You think maybe this will be enough to satisfy the hunger, but it's not.

You taste greatness, and you want more, more, more. Come to think of it, maybe your siblings have four things in common. It is not in your natures to be satisfied.

#mj.intro #livinia – 𝒾𝓃𝓉𝓇𝑜𝒹𝓊𝒸𝓉𝒾𝑜𝓃 #mhm new and (not) improved babey

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nifglobal · 1 day ago

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What Sets Top Fashion Design Colleges in Ghatkopar Apart?

Fashion isn't just about clothes; it's also a manifestation of art in the form of imagination, technical knowledge, and ingenuity. The fashion industry continues to grow, and budding designers are looking for top-quality training to improve their art and create their mark in the field. Ghatkopar, which is one of the most thriving suburbs located in Mumbai, has become an important center of education for fashion, attracting those who want to make an impact within the fashion industry. There are some distinctions, however. Fashion establishments in Ghatkopar are not created equally.

What exactly makes it the best fashion design institute in Ghatkopar over other institutions? This article will examine the primary elements that make a fashion school stand out and help students establish a solid base to build their careers.

What Sets the Best Fashion Design Colleges in Ghatkopar Apart from the Rest?

1. Comprehensive and Industry-Relevant Curriculum

The main difference that separates a typical institute from the prestigious fashion design institute at Ghatkopar is the program. A school of top standard has an organized and relevant program that is able to combine the best of both worlds: technical expertise and creativity.

An excellent curriculum covers essential subjects such as:

Fashion Illustration & Sketching

Textile Science & Fabric Studies

Pattern Making & Garment Construction

Fashion Merchandising & Marketing

CAD (Computer-Aided Design) for Fashion

Sustainable and Ethical Fashion

The most trusted clothing institutes situated within Ghatkopar ensure that their courses are regularly changed to reflect current fashion trends and provide students with the skills and knowledge required to be successful in the fast-paced fashion industry.

2. Prof. with industry experience and expertise

The faculty defines the criteria of a top institution. The most sought-after fashion design institute is located in Ghatkopar and is staffed by skilled instructors who are not just teachers but also specialists in the world of fashion.

Students greatly benefit from instructors who have experience as stylists, designers, or merchandisers, as well as experts. Professional instructors share their knowledge from their field, share secret tips, and offer valuable guidelines that textbooks can not provide.

3. Hands-on Learning and Practical Exposure

Fashion is a field that is based on imagination and the ability to apply it. Knowing the basics does not suffice; students must acquire practical experience. The best fashion design institutes situated in Ghatkopar provide students with the chance to gain practical knowledge by doing things like:

Seminars and workshops with professionals from the industry

Live projects and internships with top fashion brands

Fashion and art shows for students to showcase their works

A visit to the textile mills, as well as fashion houses and trade shows

Experiences allow students to gain confidence, understand the manufacturing process, and connect with industry experts in the business. Students gain an edge over their counterparts.

4. State-of-the-Art Infrastructure and Facilities

A well-equipped campus enhances the learning experience. The top fashion-forward institutions in Ghatkopar have invested in the most modern facilities and offer students access to

Labs to make patterns and sewing using the latest technology.

Design studios that are equipped with cutting-edge equipment

Fashion software for digital, for example, Adobe Illustrator as well as CorelDRAW

Libraries are brimming with fashion magazines and fashion news reports.

The laboratory of styling and photography

They provide a space that allows students to experiment, create the possibilities of their imagination, and turn their concepts into a tangible reality.

5. Strong Industry Connections and Placement Assistance

One of the most critical aspects of the best fashion institute situated in Ghatkopar is its long-lasting relationship with the fashion industry. Top institutes have ties with well-known brand names and designers, as well as stores that give their students the chance to gain access:

Fashion houses with a good reputation offer programs for internships

Masterclasses and lectures by legendary fashion icons

college recruitment efforts for top clothing brands

Guidance for career and portfolio sessions for development

This form of exposure helps students get rewarding jobs or even develop their labels for clothing.

6. Focus on Innovation and Sustainable Fashion

The fashion industry changes rapidly, and sustainability isn't just an issue of preference; it is a necessity. Top fashion design institutes situated in Ghatkopar have sustainable strategies in their courses. Students are encouraged by the school to explore eco-friendly fashion, sustainable fabrics, production methods, and zero-waste ways in design.

The innovative school encourages the spirit of innovation, instills an obligation towards the environment, and prepares students to become creative in the world of style.

7. Alumni Success Stories and Brand Reputation

The achievements of their graduates typically reflect the success of an institution for fashion. One of the most well-known fashion schools is located in Ghatkopar and has an impressive record of producing graduates with a reputation in the fashion world, either as designers, stylists, entrepreneurs, or brand advisers.

If they're considering the right school, they must read reviews about graduates, their successes, and placements for a better understanding of the legitimacy of the school as well as its standing.

8. Personalized Attention and Mentorship

Contrary to big schools where students are made to feel they are just a small number and that they're one of them, the most famous fashion design schools located in Ghatkopar offer students an individual experience. A small number of students with individual tutoring sessions and individual feedback will aid students in developing their skills and maximizing their talents.

Personal attention ensures that every student gets the instruction needed to build the talents of their students and help them achieve their dreams throughout their lives.

9. Extracurricular Activities and Networking Opportunities

A top fashion school provides a variety of options in addition to classroom instruction. Fashion is an industry that thrives on cooperation, creativity, and visibility. The most well-known fashion institute Ghatkopar Ghatkopar is home to:

The Fashion Weeks and the annual student-run shows

Contests and collaborations between industry leaders

Study and exchange abroad tours

Events and meetings for networking in the field

These activities help students develop confidence, develop industry-specific knowledge, and make significant connections that aid in advancing their careers.

Conclusion

A fashion institute that is situated in Ghatkopar can have an enormous influence on a fashion designer's future career. The best institutes offer a variety of innovative and engaging opportunities to the industry through practical training along with excellent opportunities to be placed. They have experienced teachers and the latest technologies, with a focus on sustainability as well as modern technology; these schools take extra steps to help students prepare for success in the demanding sector of fashion.If you're passionate about fashion and you're looking for a fashion design colleges in Ghatkopar, make sure you consider these factors prior to making your decision. A well-rounded education from a school that is of the best quality is not just able to improve your abilities but also offers promising careers within the fashion industry.

#best fashion design institute in ghatkopar #fashion design colleges in ghatkopar

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