#camo scout armor

[khanhannahlewis]

A year ago, Affinity’s world ended for the third time, and this time it was literal. The earth of Honor had split apart, and flame had spouted from the bowels of the world. Few military units had survived, and fewer settlements remained.

The village of highrock is one such settlement, a cluster of squat concrete buildings clustered around a hydroponics facility on a hill blessed with low tectonic activity and distance from both the oceans and any supervolcano. That did not prevent a powder of volcanic ash from coating the once brightly painted buildings in a dull gray sheen.

Affinity sigh devolves into a coughing fit as she places the radio headset in the small command center back on its cradle. Her second in command, and Elemental named Truth, stands by the door.

“What did they say?”

The message had been from the Northern Range, a space radar array and the final remaining element of Honor’s already minimal SDS.

“NR picked up multiple warships on an approach vector from Haven yesterday…”

“Stravag… and after losing contact with Haven too.”

“Aff…”

Affinity grabs her cane and walks outside, rubbing an aching scar on her side from when her EI had been removed.

The military outpost for Highrock had taken the earthquakes harder than the settlement proper, half the mechbay was collapsed and the boundary wall was down in three places. The entire cluster consisted of a trinary of battlemechs, a star of battle armor, a single Donar, and a handful of other assorted CVs

“Tell the scientists that their time is up, I will prepare for the blood draw.”

A last ditch effort to produce a warrior capable of outliving the Clan, of refounding it…

Affinity clutches the 2 small metal cylinders kept on a chain underneath her neck. The scientists had agreed, no other warriors available had the lineages that these two had, even sneaking these genes from the central repository on Haven had been risky, along with the genetic code of the Clan’s founder. And of course her own genes, everyone involved agreed that she had to be immortalized in this secret project.

Someone in the command center sounds the sirens.

Affinity walks out of the base and into the town.

A groundcar drives up, and a man in a drab camo jacket gets out.

“Star Colonel, I just confirmed with the scouts that the route to the Arc is free from lava.” He gestures to the white coated individual in the back seat. “Scientist Ana is ready to draw your giftake.”

Affinity nods wearily, “Thank you Steven, Ana. When you're done with me, go as fast as you can.” She undoes her gun belt. “And take this with you.”

Scientist Ava nods and quickly preps a needle before drawing a vial of Affinity's blood. The car then speeds away. In the town below, the civilian militia musters, ready to face the final end together, as a Clan.

Fire erupts on a mountain range to the west, the location of a dropship depot.

Affini looks up to the sky, and the clouds of volcanic ash open a hole to the stars, one last glimpse at eternity.

Affinity looks over her former dominion.

A wall of fire erupts far too close behind Point Commander Steven’s utility vehicle. Highrock becoming just another name on the long list of human settlements destroyed by nuclear weapons. The already unstable landscape shifts under the force of the Star Adder bombardment, but the duo manage to make it to the bunker in time. The last holdout of their Clan. The guards outside glance away from the horizon only to open and close the gate, and Steven and Ana slip inside the bunker just as the few other scientists seal it behind them.

[terrorland]

I made a old timey space marine scout! In the warhammer minature game the most famous faction is of course the space marines. These guys and their units have changed apperance quite a lot since they started in the 80s. One that changed the most is my favorite space marine unit. Space marine scouts. I have no idea why they are my favorites. Probably cause they look like a middle thing between imperial guard and space marines? Anyhow. They have gone from weird space punkers, with facepaint ( not camo though) and landsknecht arms into proper sci-fi troopers. Funny enough they just showcased new models for the scouts like this week and they look great! Probably gonna pick some of them up for my custom chapters which happens to be.. Well yeah an entire chapter made out of scouts cause they never got their shipment of power armors! ( including some of these ugly old ones yes!)

[shaconage-republic]

Art by MinisterOvVox on Twitter/X

“The battle always comes down to the Infantryman and his rifle”

The infantryman is the core to any military and nearly all other functions of the military are in support of the infantry’s mission; to close with and destroy the enemy. This is no different for the Shaconage Republic.

The Shaconage Republic infantryman is intimately familiar with small unit tactics, the fundamentals of maneuver warfare, is trained to act as a guerrilla in asymmetric warfare, and is just as familiar with bush craft and field craft as he is with tactics. On Shaconage, your ability to survive in the wilderness is vital to not just your immediate survival, but your success in tactical operations in the wilderness. They are just as skilled with their survival tools as they are with their weapons and mission equipment.

Despite their equipment not being as advanced as that of some of their more technologically advanced and better funded counterparts such as New Athens, Hoplities, the Azen Empire, and the Terran Federation, they make up for those short comings with their ingenuity, adaptability, their intensive training, and their tough physical standards and capabilities.

Every soldier and marine that joins the military is required to undergo infantry training and comprehensive survival training on top of their individual training. Infantrymen in the army and marines go through additional advanced tactical training and advanced survival training so they can survive long term in the field without resupply. Each infantryman is also trained to move through various environments stealthily in order to enhance their freedom of maneuver in contested or enemy controlled territory as well as to enable each infantryman to be better prepared to act as a scout.

The infantryman is equipped with the Mk 15 MCAR (Magnetic Coil Assisted Rifle), a helmet equipped with a HUD suite with multi spectral IR/Thermal overlay vision, a built in communications suite, CBRN filters, and a variety of other enhancements. They are also equipped with body armor, shoulder plates, thigh plates, ballistic knee pads, and an optical camouflage compact ghillie hood (full ghillie hood not depicted, only an optical camo helmet scrim net).

[roslina-w-bagnie]

another PC from the one shot i ran for my friends some days ago

our rogue Neo

his full name was Laios "Neo" Paim, hes a varian human scout rogue.

the last drawing is of him and Faerie in the epilogue, after they had come back to safety after everything went down. there was a lot of hugs.

[ID: in the first drawing Neo is sitting down, elbows on his knees, with his head down and looking into distance, one of his hands is resting on his sniper rifle. Neo is a middle aged white man, with brown-gray hair in a helf up half down hairstyle and a beard. he has an eyepatch on his left eye, a long dark green coat over brown leather armor, a scarf around his neck, camo pants, kneepads and black work boots. the second drawing is of Neo standing, showcasing his design. the third drawing is of Neo and Faerie, an elf with long brown hair, a red and gold outfit with blue tattooes of flowers across her left arm. Neo and Faerie are hugging. End ID]

[stephenleasheppard]

The problem with scout snipers as a discreet squad is that—as much as I wish it were otherwise—they are pretty much entirely conceptually redundant with the newer Eliminators. Like, you can make the argument that regular scout squads aren’t redundant with Infiltrators, because you can give them knives or heavy weapons or otherwise build them to do things infiltrators can’t, but it’s very difficult to argue with a straight face that “Five novitiates in carapace armor with camo cloaks and sniper rifles” meaningfully occupy a different gameplay niche than “Three fully augmented Astartes in Phobos armor with camo cloaks and sniper rifles.” You could argue that five vs. three, pointed properly, will inevitably lead to situations where sometimes it’s more advantageous to run one and sometimes to run the other, but that’s still not a good reason to have both, that’s mechanical hair-splitting.

I like scouts and I’d rather the scout snipers were still around, but I’m not sure I could argue with a straight face that GW would be correct in bringing them back.

Sprue preview for the new Space Marine Scout Squad dropping with Kill Team: Salvation. Like all of the recent releases, it is absolutely jam-packed with bits - and some of those bits are detached shoulder pads, so that you can look forward to a wealth of third-party and 3d printed options for your specific chapter in the not-too-distant future.

One thing I did notice is that unlike the Ork Kommandos or Death Korps Veterans, the Kill Team specialists are all on the base squad sprue - however, it strikes me more as a post hoc justification for some classic Scout bits like Little Brother Shades and the classic squad auspex.

The included options offer a sampling of everything Scouts have typically had access to, but I worry about the potential loss of Scout Snipers as a discrete squad.

[witchy-kittyy]

Raiden head-canons and ideas no one asked for but I need to get my thoughts down.

-Raiden often visits the Emmerich home and brings stacks of really shitty movies with him that him and Sunny can mindlessly watch while sharing popcorn. Sunny always puts a ton of pillows on the floor and blankets so she can sit with Raiden on the floor since he refuses to sit on the couch because his frame is a bit too heavy and he doesn’t want to put a dent in it.

-when Sunny was young (MGS4 time) Raiden would let her just be as girly as she wanted with him, she’d braid his hair and stuff and he’d let her so she could at least have somewhat “normal” childhood memories too amongst all the fucked up stuff. During this time Raiden also manages to find Sunny pictures of Olga, so she could at least see what her mom looked like.

-During Raiden’s procedures during MGS4, Sunny would often climb onto the lil gurney bed with him so he wasn’t alone, she’d tell him all about her trials of cooking her eggs and get a lil sad that he couldn’t try them and tell her his opinion. But he’d smile and tell her the smelt delicious and he was a lil envious he couldn’t but that one day if he could, he’d like to. She’d often fall asleep against him, his bits of armor were cold but she didn’t mind, at least her savior and hero was there. And having Sunny there during this time was a big comfort to Raiden too.

-Post MGR, During a visit to the Emmerich home, Raiden asks Sunny to make him her famous eggs… saying he never backs out of a promise. She happily scurries off and returns with her Sunny side ups. They’re wonderful.

-Sometimes Raiden brings John around to the Emmerich home too, Pre-MGR before they moved to NZ. John and Sunny get along and Sunny is talking about codes and things that not even Raiden understands but John is enamored with it all. Post MGR lil John tells his dad he wants to get into Science or the Arts, he’s not sure which. Raiden supports whatever he wants so long as he doesn’t get into war, he doesn’t want his son to walk the same path he did.

-End of MGS4, once they return home as a family, Raiden gets himself and John wooden katanas, something sturdy and decent. No shitty plastic swords for his son. And they enjoy having mock sword fights out in the back yard while Rose watches. Raiden feigns defeat a lot, always collapsing in a very dramatic fashion onto the grass. There’s a lot of laughing, especially from Raiden.

-although he enjoys the mock sword fighting, sometimes when he watches from a distance as John plays, he can’t help but feel a sinking feeling in his gut as he pictures his younger self in John, one afternoon it gets a bit too real and Raiden collapses onto his knees, trying to calm himself down from an attack, John calls out to him and before long there’s small arms trying to wrap themselves around Raiden. He asks if his dad’s okay, to which Raiden replies that he is now, but he gives his son a tighter than usual hug. Maybe to unconsciously ask his son to never actually get into violence or to maybe just go back in time briefly and give his younger self a much needed piece of affection.

-Roses cooking is horrible, that’s canon. When Raiden is home in between ops he has a ton of rations stashed in that stealth-camo case for his blade that he generously shares with John when she’s insistent on cooking that night. The fact he can turn his taste receptors on and off at will is a godsend.

-Raiden’s a pretty decent cook tho, despite not needing to cook for such a long time. Between his trip to Alaska and learning scouting from that, he did pick up some techniques from the experience. He’s also a clean freak. Doesn’t really like clutter either, a very bare-minimum to live person, but its partially between his living conditions as a kid but also because of how he is with work, got to pack light. Rose on the other hand enjoys her mementos. Raiden doesn’t mind them if they’re important to her, he personally just doesn’t care for such things for himself. But he will admit it does make their house feel homey.

-Alt HC for his relationship, post-MGR, Raiden and Rose choose to get divorced, they still care for each other and Raiden still plays a big part in raising his son. It’s more so for safety reasons and that he wants Rose to be able to move on with someone who will at least be a constant in her life. Rose can never and will never truly understand whats going on in his mind, she’s never been on a battle field, Raiden needs someone like that. Enter a Samuel Rodrigues that didn’t die, that wound wasn’t fatal, he’s just a very good actor thanks to Wolf’s lying.

-Raiden hates being seen as weak and hates showing too much emotion and affection in front of Sam, before and after they start seeing each other. It takes a lot for him to finally break the walls down for Sam.

-^^^ Raiden is very princessy- he’s stuck up, cold and kind of an asshole in his early relationship with Sam. Sam is just a smug asshole who likes to poke at him and see what makes him tick. But he’s a lot more compassionate than Raiden in the beginning, even after Raiden lets his walls down.

-Post MGR, after doing whatever Raiden was doing, he returns to work for Maverick after everything died down. While the team at Maverick are his work colleagues, Raiden sees them as found family. and they feel the same way about him.

-Continuation of above, once he starts up at Maverick again that’s when Sam shows up, a very heated argument takes place, the two of them end up in the training room to brawl because Boris yelled at them to take it someplace else that WASN'T the briefing room.

-Synopsis of what my main fic is based around: Sam sees a completely different side of Raiden when they’re told their next op is protecting a VIP in Liberia. Raiden is completely stiff. Boris apologizing that he can’t spare someone else to take this mission, he only trusts Raiden with it. Raiden assures him that he’s okay with it. But something unexpected happens on the op, causing a chase, which neither Raiden or Sam could keep up with. Raiden encounters something that haunts his soul and he politely asks everyone back at HQ to turn their codec’s off and for Sam to give him a minute. Sam’s never heard Raiden break. And he never wants to hear him break like that ever again.

Update 1 additions:

-In continuation to the memento hc, Raiden keeps one. Snake’s SOCOM. He gets a custom holster made for his MGR body (like it was originally meant to have in MGSR), although he barely uses it, its there if needed but more so to keep a memory of his hero alive and with him since Snake most likely passed around the time MGR takes place.

-Raiden has a sweet tooth, although he doesn’t indulge in it often saying it loses its value if he does it too often, but he enjoys having the odd chocolate (milk or dark, preferably dark). On a bad night, after a nightmare, Sam handed him a cup of hot chocolate to warm him up and calm him down since coffee might not be the best thing at 3am. Since then that drink became his comfort drink of choice.

-Raiden has a few self-destructive “coping mechanisms” and tendencies brought on due to his PTSD. One being putting his life and body in harms way by engaging in risky activities as a means to numb and distract himself from dealing with the issue, another becoming increasingly distant and prone to outbursts of aggression to try push people out and away.

Update 2:

Raiden goes through about 2 bottles of conditioner a month. He conditions his hair every fucking morning, how else is he gonna keep it looking that silky and fluffy and so soft. Even though I doubt his hair grows anymore, because cyborg, and it’s most likely a wig but it still needs to be maintained.

Update 3:

-My guess for Raiden actually being born in Liberia (and Liberian despite the fact he would’ve never been acknowledged as a Liberian citizen officially) is that his actual father ended up marrying a Liberian woman. Just that Rai ended up getting all of his father’s features and none of his mothers, it’s entirely plausible and has happened as far as I’m aware.

-Raiden often has to deal with depersonalization /derealization, and just in general not feeling human. While being a cyborg doesn’t bother him on most days any more, some days it hits a bit hard, either with the stigma surrounding it while he’s just trying to do every day things or if he catches a glimpse of himself when he’s already not feeling great, it just sends him spiraling. Often he’ll just sit down and stare at nothing while going through the motions, often not realizing he’s being called, only really being brought back when someone touches him, but it either startles him or sometimes he doesn’t even register it. It’s another one of those things he seems to self-treat with sparring so he can make himself feel sensation, and that he can let his body run off of an “auto-pilot” like feeling, not really thinking about things, just doing. 

Update 4:

-Raiden is incredibly harsh with himself, from other HC discussed above and in canon (for example his room being so bare, not allowing himself any sort of luxury), but he is very soft with others, especially children and animals. It’s in the way he’ll make himself smaller by kneeling down to their level, dropping his voice so its softer to not frighten, even in his combat body his touch is light and gentle.

-^^^ in addition to this with his relationship with Sam, after the walls had come down, he can still be cold but its more so due to the harshness he inflicts on himself, but every now and then his touch is very soft, it still surprises Sam sometimes just how soft he is capable of being, he wonders if Rose also thought the same when they were together.

-There are times where Raiden does completely come out of his shell for Sam, for a bit. Long enough for Sam to see Raiden being somewhat carefree. It comes when they watch movies together, although Sam isn’t one for them he enjoys seeing Raiden completely change when discussing movie trivia, it happens often when they play trivia games together the one night as a date. Although Raiden can be quite hotheaded and it can make him come off as a bit dim-witted, he’s actually incredibly knowledgeable, very intelligent and absolutely wipes the floor with Sam’s ego when it comes to trivia nights. But its so worth it to see how his face lights up when he gets to explain things he’s passionate about.

I think for now that’s everything I have in my mind. Might add more later as I think of things <3

[poorlytunedukulele]

Day 21 - Oathkeeper

August 24, 2876; Inner System Space

Azra floated in the weightlessness of space.  Weightlessness was a lie.  You are at all times under the effect of something’s gravity- the difference is if you feel it or not.  Azra did not feel it because she was drifting, already caught and falling in the asteroid’s pull.

Asteroid-hopping was fun.  Normally jetpacks weren’t very useful, but it was easy to escape the weak gravity of the asteroid belt.  It reminded her of rock climbing in a way, moving from handhold to handhold, gravity well to gravity well.

Her chosen asteroid was big, but not big enough to naturally put out the force that grasped at her.  She hit the ground hard.  Soft dirt was kicked up in her wake, hanging in the air for just a second too long.  Someone had set this hunk of rock up with artificial gravity, though only about half of Earth’s, and had given it an atmosphere and cultivated the rock into farmable soil.

They hadn’t chosen to farm it, though.  Azra stood before a forest of young trees.  Their leaves lifted a bit too high, branches perfectly still in the unstirred air.  They were Earth species- cottonwoods and white-trunked aspen.

They were enough to hide someone.  Azra brushed the dirt from her knees, looked up, and was suddenly staring death in the eye.

Well, she was looking down the shaft of an arrow laid on a very impressive bow by a very impressive woman.  She had been waiting in cover- active camo, probably, the tree trunks were thin- and had stepped out when Azra had turned her attention away.

The woman’s skin had the Awoken blue tint and her eyes were like moonfire on ice.  She was tall.  Taller than Shaxx, even.  "You're trespassing on Awoken territory, Guardian," the woman called out in a rough alto. "Declare yourself."

Azra put her hands up and flicked through her HUD to turn on her external speakers.  “My name is Azra Jax,” she announced.  “I’m scouting for the Vanguard, I didn’t know I’d crossed into Awoken territory.”

A truth and two lies.  Kind of.  She was here for her own mapmaking efforts.  The Vanguard hadn’t sent her.  And she’d known she’d be intruding on Awoken territory at some point, but she didn’t know where the exact border was.

The Awoken woman didn’t lower her bow.  It was tall as the woman was, massive limbs pulled back with such force Azra fancied she could hear reality creak with tension.  No doubt that arrow would punch through her armor like wet paper.  Bulletproofing didn’t work so well against edged weapons.

“Alright,” she admitted, meeting the Awoken’s icy eyes.  “I’m not here for the Vanguard, I’m scouting for fun, though I’m sure they’d take any map data I gave them.  I genuinely don’t know where the border is.”

The woman’s voice was cool with a thinly-veiled threat.  “This asteroid is part of our claim.  The one behind you is not.”

Azra didn’t turn to look at the lifeless rock floating a few hundred meters away.  “Ah, so the border is here,” she said.

The Awoken woman had impressive arm strength.  The arrow-point never wavered, even though the draw weight of the bow must have been incredible.

“There’s no need for violence,” Azra said.  “I didn’t- and I still don’t- intend harm on you or your people.  I was just exploring.”

“Then leave,” the woman demanded.  “You are not welcome here.”

“Well, what about next time?” Azra said.

The woman lowered her bow, though Azra didn’t doubt she could have it at full draw in a heartbeat.  “If you enter our territory again, I will kill you.”

“I don’t know what’s your territory and what’s not!” Azra exclaimed.  “That’s why I’m here.  This entire region is so poorly mapped because nobody knows what’s fair game and what’ll get you in trouble!”

“You are here for maps?”  the woman said incredulously.

Azra crossed her arms.  “I’m not here to screw spiders.”

“I know your kind,” the woman said.  “You would cross the border willingly even if you knew where it was.”

A correct assumption, Azra had to admit.  “At least I’d be discreet about it.  But like, the whole reason you have borders is to keep threats out.  I’m no threat to the Awoken.  I don’t see how me standing on this asteroid as apposed to that one hurts anything.”

“You Guardians change everything you touch,” the Awoken woman said.

“And you don’t?” Azra challenged.  “Last time I checked, asteroids don’t have trees growing on them.”

The Awoken woman didn’t respond.  She frowned and fingered the fletching on her arrow.

Azra set aside her frustration and her fear.  “Listen.  Until you claim the whole asteroid belt, you can’t get upset at me for accidentally hopping onto the wrong rock.”

The woman shook her head.  “You knew you would enter our space eventually, but you didn’t hesitate.”

“Can’t find the line ‘till you cross it,” Azra said.  “Old Hunter saying.”

The woman paused, reaching for an inside pocket on her jacket.  If Azra were to make a move, it would be now, when her opponent only had one hand on the bow.

She let the moment pass.  The woman pulled a datachip clear and turned it between her fingers.  “How can I be sure you will keep your word?  Not just abandon a deal when it suits you?”

The woman was talking about deals now.  This was good.  Maybe Azra wouldn’t have to spend the next couple of days crossing lines and getting shot with arrows.  The Arcstrider spoke with conviction.  “Your word’s the only thing you have.  Things break, people die, places change, but your word- your honor, is the only thing that will always be with you.  I don’t break promises.”

The woman seemed to come to a decision.  “I will give you a map of the asteroid belt, up to the border of our space but no further.  In return, you will swear to never cross that border uninvited.”

Very tempting offer.  Azra eyed the datachip, a war raging in her head.  On one side, being banned from somewhere was a steep price to pay.  She did not do well with interdictions or exclusion zones.  On the other hand, map data…

Azra approached the warrior slowly.  She was taut as her own bowstring, eyes lit, expression challenging but wary.  Azra was careful to keep her movements even and her hands far from her weapons.

She stopped a few feet away.  “What’s your name?” she asked.

“Sjur Eido,” the woman replied smoothly.  “Queen’s Wrath.”

Azra stuck out her hand.  “Sjur Eido, you’ve got yourself a deal.”

Sjur looked at her outstretched arm like it was sharp, but grasped the datachip in her bow hand so she could accept Azra’s handshake.

“On my word, never broken, and my knife, never dull,” Azra intoned.  “If you give me a clear, readable map of exactly where your borders lie, I won’t willingly cross them without permission.”

Sjur Eido nodded, let go of her hand, and held out the chip.  Spark appeared in realspace to take it.

Then, like a child on the Dawning who couldn’t wait to open their present, the Ghost turned sideways and projected the map in the air.  As promised, there was the thin, well-defined line of the border.  Everything past it was empty blankness.  Everything outside, though…

“Oooh,” Azra cooed.  “This is good.”  The individual asteroids and shipwrecks were as detailed as Azra would have made them.  They even had relative velocities and masses labeled, so the map could be extrapolated and altered as the asteroid belt continued its messy rotation.  “We’re friends now,” Azra declared.

“Friends?” Sjur said, sounding a little appalled.

“Yes.  You gave me a map.  A good map.  We’re friends.”

“I did not agree-“

Azra waved her off.  “You will take my transponder code and you will like it.  I’m not good with penpals, so don’t expect letters or anything.”

“…Friends.”  The Awoken woman still didn’t sound impressed.

“It’s too late, I like you.”  She poked at the projection.  “This has a map of Pallas, too?  ‘Like’ is too weak a word.”

“Don’t you have an oath to keep?” the Awoken woman said dryly.  Azra looked up and saw what might have been a hint of humor in her eyes.

The Arcstrider performed an informal salute.  “Right.  I should go.  Pleasure meeting you, Sjur Eido.  Genuine.”

She jumped high so her jetpack wouldn’t blow the dirt away and drifted, weightless, out of Awoken space.

AO3 Link

[txladyj-blog]

This Time Around - Chapter 15

A Daryl Dixon x OFC collaboration written by @xmistressmistrustx​ by request of @txladyj-blog​

Rating: Explicit

Relationship: Daryl Dixon/Original Female Character

Tags: Friendship, Friends to Lovers, Awkwardness, Awkward Flirting, Awkward Crush, Fluff and Humor, Angst and Humor, Mild Smut, Strong Language, Eventual Sex, Eventual Romance, Slow Burn, Canon Divergence, Some Canon Scenes and Dialogue

Chapters 23/?

With the help of Deanna and Michonne, Rick devised a guard and runs roster that seemed to run like a well-oiled machine on a weekly rotating basis. Those with similar skills were paired up with each other and assigned specific duties and tasks outside the walls. Having hunting, tracking and Walker fighting skills, Jess found herself paired up with Daryl at least once a week when he wasn’t out recruiting. It was a result that had left her with mixed feelings. When she was around him, she would cycle between pure irritation and an icy attitude and playful mocking while trying to hide the fact that underneath it all and no matter how difficult she could sometimes present as, she did enjoy spending time with him. Sometimes, it was like it used to be back at the quarry when they joked and Daryl tried and failed to hide his small smiles. Those moments were changing things and Jess’s guard was very gradually lowering but for the most part, she was confusing and standoffish.

Daryl never gave up his efforts to chip away at Jess’s defiance. He could see it glimmering through when she threw shade at him and giggled when he screwed something up. He let her simmer at him and tolerated her moods because she was there, the old Jess, shoved into the dark and repressed but she was most certainly still present and he wanted nothing more than to see her again.

Glenn’s idea of gathering more military grade supplies and armour to match Jess's meant Rick tasked Daryl and Jess with visiting an abandoned military outpost used as a safe zone at the start of the turn. Upon scouting the area himself, he reported back that the ground was scattered with dead soldiers wearing all manner of useful clothing and the inside of the fences may well contain medication or weapons if it hadn’t already been picked clean. Both Jess and Daryl agreed without question and Deanna threw Jess the keys to a pickup truck.

“I’m driving” Jess announced as she flung open the truck’s door in the wispy rain. Her hood was up and her mask obscured her face. Daryl carried his crossbow by the stirrup and rolled his eyes in plain view of Jess, who was sitting in the driver’s seat.

“Don’t roll your eyes at me. We both know you can’t drive stick.” She told him.

“I'm a redneck, course I can drive stick” He mumbled, climbing up into the passenger side and depositing his crossbow on the back seat.

“You almost burned the gearbox out and gave me whiplash the last time. Stick to what you’re good at. Y’know, hunting, smoking and looking angry as shit all the time.” She turned the key and brought the engine to life, switching up the windscreen wipers to a low pace. Dust was smeared across the glass before it was finally washed away by the rain.

“Fine one to talk.” He rasped, slouching down in his seat and thudding his boots up on the dash.

“Excuse me?” She questioned.

“You. Always lookin’ at me like ya gonna cloud up n’ rain on me.” He braced himself for what would undoubtedly be a barrage of fury at his observation of her mostly angry demeanor. But he was waiting for something that never came and eventually, he glanced to his side to see her staring at him over the edge of her mask.

“I’m sorry” She whispered seriously.

Stunned, Daryl sat up slightly and tried not to appear so baffled. He scanned the area outside the truck, seeing people milling past, heading out to their daily jobs. He was glad no one could see them due to the partially fogged up windows.

“Uh...It’s OK.” He informed her. And it was. He mostly understood her reasons for wanting to keep a safe distance emotionally and the last thing he would ever want to do is hurt her again. But he couldn’t say he was altogether comfortable with it. “C’mon, let’s go.”

= = = = = 

The military camp was a temporary one, only designed to be erected in case of severe emergencies. The fences were broken down and the tents inside had been raised, leaving only empty bullet casings and blood decorating the asphalt. But Rick had been right, the sheer number of dead soldiers, even those reanimated as Walkers would provide them with ample armor if they were ever in a position of needing to defend themselves and the town against an onslaught of some kind.

Daryl slinked through a gap in the fence and scurried, with his body low from the back of one tent to another until he reached what appeared to be a tank. The open area in the middle of the camp was crawling with Walkers, at least a dozen, probably more, He didn’t have time to count as he scaled the side of the armored vehicle and signaled with one hand for Jess to follow. The rain had only grown stronger the further away from Alexandria they travelled and the temperature was dropping rapidly as the day crept on. He rarely felt the cold but wished he’d brought his leather jacket with him this time, his bare arms somewhat impractical for a cold, wet supply run.

Jess wasn’t complaining, she followed the trail of the arms she so admired, winding around the bodies on the ground, the canvas structures and the bloody patches when she finally reached the tank. Daryl reached down to her, helping her climb up the metal and they both took up positions beside one another and surveyed the amount of work they had to put in.

“Gonna have to get rid of most of these Walkers.” Daryl suggested. “See that, over there?” He raised an arm, pointing at a tent that was full of black storage cases. “We can’t leave without checkin’ that out.”

“Yeah, it has potential. My dad and brother used to use those cases.” She mused, remembering the many different houses she’d lived in as an army brat, all the camo, the gear, the medals, running around with a bunch of boys playing ball as a child. Those were the days.

Daryl readied his crossbow and shifted, getting comfortable.

“Wait” Jess said. He peered sideways at her.

“You take the left; I’ll take the right. First one to clear their section, wins.” She grinned as she slipped her bow over her head and nocked an arrow.

“Wins what?” He asked.

“I haven’t thought that far ahead yet. Glory, I guess.”

“I like glory.” He stated.

“You do?”

“Yeah”

“That’s a shame ‘cause you’re gonna lose!” She cried, firing off an arrow and dropping the nearest Walker on her side.

Daryl rapidly began to take down the corpses, one by one with meticulous precision and Jess had to admit she was still impressed by his accuracy with a crossbow. Even his reload took mere seconds which was one thing she thought may give her the advantage. Her arm began to ache after she dropped the tenth Walker on her side and she paused to count how many Daryl had left to take down. There were a lot more than she’d initially thought, especially when she counted twelve eliminated Walkers on her opponents’ side with three more being taken down. She turned back to her targets, four left.

He’s got this.

In the blink of an eye, Daryl’s side was empty and Jess was still aiming and shooting, now with only two Walkers left. Daryl floored one while she successfully dropped the other and slowly turned her head to face him, her lip curled in disgust.

“I hope you choke on your glory.” She growled.

“Tastes real sweet. You should try it some day.” He remarked in response with a smug smile.

Jess slid down the tanks front and jumped down onto the ground, closely followed by Daryl. They stepped over the bodies and shoved some aside from the entrance of the tent. Jess flipped open one of the black boxes and Daryl saw her face light up.

“Looks like we’re both getting some glory.” She grinned as she held up a heavy combat vest.

The rest of the boxes were brimming with combat clothing and their find had put them both in a decent mood, Jess’s being more evident than Daryl’s, who was much more stoic in general anyway. But he enjoyed her gentle mockery of him as they loaded up the back of the truck with boxes and tore any armor from the dead people that littered the camp. Daryl was pleased to have Jess’s smart comments and continuous chatter as a backdrop to such a monstrous and stomach-churning task.

= = = = = 

When they had gathered everything that they could fit onto the flatbed, they covered it with a tarp and Jess embarked on the long drive back to Alexandria. After only a few minutes on the road, Daryl suggested they pull over and check out the woodlands for animals to hunt. When Jess disagreed, he managed to talk her into it by promising only an hour and if they didn’t have any decent tracks to follow, they could return to the truck.

She pulled into a small clearing in the trees and killed the engine before following Daryl into the darkening woods. Neither of them spoke as they trundled along as quietly as possible. Walkers were nowhere to be seen and Jess thought that to be a saving grace. When Daryl stopped to inspect some tracks in the mud, they were soon setting off in pursuit of what he thought could be a sizeable hog.

A fast-moving stream seemed to appear from nowhere up ahead and Daryl held up a hand, halting her behind him. She had to admit to herself that her heart wasn’t in it and she just wanted to return to her fairground home and collapse into bed, but the thought of hog for dinner wasn’t an altogether bad one. He moved forwards until they were both stood at the edge of the stream. The water was murky, mud kicked up from the bottom as though something had recently ran through it. The rain meant the streams banks were coated in thick, clay-like mud.

“Must have gone through the stream. Tracks have gone.” Daryl mused.

“Bye bye, Bacon.” Jess sighed. “C’mon, lets go back.”

The sound of engines raging towards them caused Jess to still and her mouth to drop open.

How have vehicles got this far into the woods?!

She didn’t have time to think before Daryl’s arms locked around her waist and she was thrown down into the water and out of the view of the five motorcycles that appeared from the thick dullness of the woods on the other side of the water. Jess gawped up at Daryl from where she sat in the water, panic evident on her face. He was peering over the top of the bank, over the grass and witnessing a group of men heading straight for them. All heavily armed.

He dove at her, ripping her bow from her body and throwing it under the water with his crossbow before dragging her down and under a nearby tree roots. The bank underneath stepped up slightly into a ledge that was wide enough to fit the width of her body. She didn’t struggle, in fact, she just let him manhandle her into the tiny space and stared at him in shock when he scooped up handfuls of mud and smeared it all over her arms, legs and torso. Then, he set to work on himself, covering as much skin as he could and ensuring that they were both the same color as the muddy stream. He ducked under the roots and lowered himself on top of her just as the men neared and began to settle down, talking and jeering at one another.

Daryl’s body was pinning her to the sodden ground. Water dripped from his hair onto her face but she kept completely still, save for her breathing which was now jagged and shaky. He looked at her face, noticing it was completely clean in contrast to the rest of her and may as well have had a flashlight beam shining on it. He slowly moved a hand up from the mud and gently wiped the brown gloop over her cheeks and forehead in a strange display of what would otherwise be mistaken for affection. She could only stare up at him.

“Shh.” He hushed.

= = = = = =

It felt like hours. It may have been hours because night had fallen and the cold was biting at her bones. Daryl was fighting to hold himself over Jess without crushing her and his arms were trembling with the tension. They could hear the men building a fire and throwing insults at one another. Occasionally they would laugh about someone they’d killed which sent a shiver through Jess’s spine that wasn’t caused by the cold. Her only view was the stream trickling past beside her and Daryl's eyes above her and the more she looked at him the more she thought that even in this situation, at risk of being killed and covered in shit and mud, he was still gorgeous to her. Having him pushed against her had created undeniable sexual tension and neither of them knew what to do about it.

“You alright?” He asked in a barely-there whisper. A short nod was what followed and he could see she was about to say something from her eyes darting around, from his face to the water beside them.

“This is kind of…awkward.”

She felt his body jolt momentarily from the short huff that escaped him. His arms were locking hers to her sides to keep her level on the tiny ledge and when his hair dropped into her face again, he flicked his head slightly to dislodge the sodden strands, failing in his efforts and giving up. He hadn’t been this physically close to a woman in years, his whole body pressed against her and his face inches from hers. He could feel the curves of her chest and waist and her hips were level with his. When his outside leg slipped from the muddy ledge, she bent her knee at his thigh to provide him with some extra stability. It wasn’t awkward to him at first, merely a matter of survival and needs must, but now she’d mentioned it and she was cocooned under him and his mind was kicked into overdrive.

Uuuggh, Damn friction. Think of somethin’ else.  

“Ya just had to mention that, didn’t ya?” He complained in a quiet growl

“Sorry.” She croaked.

The crackling of a fire could be heard up on the grass and the smell of smoke wafted down the stream’s banks and tickled Jess’s nostrils along with the delightful smell of cooking meat. Her stomach growled and vibrated and Daryl furrowed his brow at her as if he’d felt her stomach rumble and that she shouldn’t be thinking about food at a time like that.

One of them men was on his feet and wandering around, the crunching of the leaves under his boots getting louder and quieter and then louder again and it told them he was circling the group, possibly setting up tents or sorting supplies. Their conversation became more concerning as time went on and soon, they were discussing how many more women they needed to start re-populating the earth.

“He said not to come back unless we had one. We can’t go back empty handed.” One man said.

“Our supplies are runnin’ low. Can’t stay out here much longer neither” another offered.

“Y’all heard the man! What he wants, he gets or we all suffer. He’s been in a bad mood since we swept that entire city and found a whole bunch of nothin’. So, we keep lookin’.” A louder and more authoritative man explained.

Jess automatically thought about the large group that encroached on the city while she was living in her apartment. Their Mad Max style vehicles and the woman in the cage, it all told her that the men that were just yards away from her could well be from the same group.

Daryl toyed with the idea of trying to slide his arms back up to Jess’s face and clamping his hands over her ears so she didn’t have to hear their savage and disgusting accounts of what they would do if they did have such a prize in their possession. He noticed her body trembling even more.

“Ya shakin’.” He whispered.

“F-freezing.” She mouthed.

He moved further over her, covering her entire body with his and it occurred to her that this was the closest she was ever likely to be with him. She wanted to wrap her arms around his waist and push a hand into his dirty, wet hair and kiss him. She could see it in her imagination, what a wonderful sight it was, minus the mud. But it wasn’t the time and he wouldn’t want her to anyway. She decided to keep the image on reserve, a girl could dream.

“Cross ya arms in front of ya.” He told her, lifting his chest slightly to allow her room before settling his arms flush with her sides. It was far from comfortable for him in more ways than one and Jess could tell he would end up with a terrible neck ache if he stayed as he was.

“You can rest your head on my shoulder.” She offered. He hesitated, his blue eyes peering down into hers with apprehension. “You won’t be able to move for days if you stay like that.” She didn’t know if he’d heard her, he was just staring down at her and the darkness meant his face was now partially obscured, the light of the moon reflecting off the water was the only source of illumination. She didn’t want to repeat herself for fear of being heard by the depraved group of men in the clearing and so, she stayed quiet.

“K” he finally agreed. He gently turned his head to the side and lowered it onto her shoulder.

He did hear me. Oh my god. This feels so weird. And nice. He must be super uncomfortable.

“Relax, I can take your weight.” She informed him. His body became heavier but it was tolerable, warmer but more awkward as time rolled on. The men were eating and still swapping stories of people they’d killed. Jess held her breath every time it sounded like one of them was getting up and closing in on their hiding spot. Her arms were numb and her skin was wrinkled and she was almost certain Daryl could feel every churn of her stomach and the hammering of her heart.

Daryl didn’t envision being on top of anyone like this. It was a rare occurrence for him to think of anyone in a sexual manner, but with her underneath him it was difficult not to. He was desperately trying to focus on their escape route and not the pretty face and curves under his body. His sole aim had been to get her out of sight and disguised enough to keep her alive, his own fate meaning less than hers. So far he had prevailed and his plan had worked but they couldn’t stay much longer. He could only hope the men would sleep soon and he and Jess could slip out undetected. She wriggled under him and he lifted his head, checking her face in the faint moonlight.

Stay still. Please, stay still. Stop rubbin’ against me. Shit.

“Sorry. My ass is numb.” She uttered.

“Yeah? Well, my everythin’ is numb. Keep still.” He told her.

A short sigh followed a nod of acceptance from Jess and she rested her head to the side, watching the water as it trickled past in its tiny, mud filled waves.

“Hey, Bobby. Get ya lazy ass up and go on over yonder to that stream. We need us some water. Gonna have boil the shit out of it but it’ll have to do.” Came the voice of authority from the group.

Jess’s heart felt like it jumped up to her throat and Daryl jolted before his arms closed further into her sides, urging her not to move an inch. He heard her breathing increase as panic began to set in.

“It’s ok.” He soothed “I got this. It’s ok.”

Footsteps neared their location, along with tuneful whistling and intermittent mumbling about how they were all going to catch damn rabies from drinking that water but if Jack says it, then it must be so. Daryl shuffled up and brought his lips to her ear, his breath tickling at her neck.

“Whatever happens, stay here.”

She shook her head, “But, I can help.”

“No.” He grunted back.

“Daryl-”

“-Shut up n’ listen to me, girl.” He demanded “I don’t care what you say or how much ya argue with me. Ya heard what they said n’ there’s five of ‘em n two of us. I can’t let them see you. Ya female. I won’t have ‘em touchin’ you. So, please…Jess…just stay here.”

Daryl wasn’t sure if he meant it as an affectionate motion but it screamed tenderness and caring when he lifted himself onto one elbow and gently moved some of her hair from her face. She blinked at him and held her breath, wishing that they were anywhere else but tucked under the roots of a tree in the darkness and laying in a puddle of stinking mud.

“I won’t lose you...not again.” He added.

Emotion rushed to the surface inside Jess and her eyes turned watery, she had no way to hide it and was forced to accept that Daryl could probably see that she wanted to cry.

“OK.” She agreed “but, Daryl...?”

The footsteps were almost upon them.

“Yeah?”

“Please don’t die”

She was sure she could sense his hand open at the side of her face as if he were about to caress her cheek but she couldn’t be sure, the darkness and her inability to take her eyes away from his face left her unable to decide. If he did, he stopped short of actually touching her and in the seconds that followed her thoughts were ripped away from his potentially romantic gesture and thrown towards the man that was crouched at the side of the stream, whistling and edging further towards the lip of the bank to fill the plastic bottle in his hand. He was a stones throw from them, a meter or so and Daryl was weighing up his options.

Jess almost squeaked in surprise when the man slipped from the edge and tumbled into the water, creating a loud splash. He swore loudly and sat up like toddler in a playpen, shaking his wet hair from his face and spitting out dirty water. Then, his head turned and he locked eyes with Daryl and Jess. The seconds that passed between him noticing them and his mouth opening to yell were more like minutes and slow-motion ones at that.

“HEY GU-”

He was cut off by Daryl throwing himself at him and barreling him back under the water. Jess shot up and crawled from the bank, ignoring Daryl’s instructions to stay put and grabbed her bow and his crossbow from under the water. When she took a glance at the other men up in the clearing, they were all too busy laughing to have noticed the noise of the fracas that was unfolding in the stream.

Daryl’s arms glistened in the moonlight as he clenched his jaw and held on to the man’s throat with all his might. His victims head was completely submerged, bubbles billowing up to the surface from his nose and mouth. A strained grunt escaped Daryl as he shoved down harder, wishing the man would just give up so they could escape. He avoided the kicking of his legs and the desperate clawing of the man’s hands on his chest and biceps and kept on, applying more and more pressure while covered in dark mud like a crazed swamp monster. Jess slung the crossbow over her shoulder and readied her bow, nocking an arrow and taking a rough aim, well aware that she could shoot Daryl in the wrist or hand under the water if she got it wrong. The mud from her face was trickling into her eyes and she tried to blink it away, blurring her vision more. She steadied her breathing and tried to focus and just when she was about to release the arrow, the man went limp. She looked on with wide eyes, knowing that Daryl had killed people but seeing him murder a man in front of her made it all the more real.

Daryl’s chest was rising and falling rapidly and despite the freezing temperatures, his brow was slick with sweat. He flickered his eyes up to her and sprang to his feet, keeping his body low he grabbed her wrist.

“C’mon, we gotta run ‘fore they find him.”

= = = = = 

Climbing up the bank as quietly as humanly possible proved to be quite the task with nothing between them to obscure the vision of the men around the campfire. Daryl had to choose a moment and stick with it and when he did, he pulled on Jess’s arm so hard he almost flung her off of her feet and up to the woodland floor. She grabbed handfuls of leaves and twigs as she dragged herself up to start running and felt Daryl clamp a hand around her wrist once more. He ran as fast as he could and eventually let go when he saw that she could keep up with him without assistance.

Behind them, shouting could be heard by the stream. The men had discovered their dead friend and Jess didn’t feel an ounce of guilt when she hoped that he would turn in the water and kill them all. Her feet were squelching inside her boots as they hammered the dirty ground and leapt over fallen branches and logs. Although the paranoia and fear that swirled around in her head was telling her otherwise, the distance between her and Daryl and their pursuers was enough to provide them with precious seconds upon reaching their truck.

Daryl jumped into the driver’s seat and Jess didn’t bother to make a comment about him not being able to understand a gearbox. Instead, she simply clambered into the passenger’s side and yelled at him to drive. Ignoring her instance upon trying to burst his eardrums, he tried to focus and the truck jumped back once, then twice.

“Stop switching it up so much!” She cried “Put it in first, then switch it!”

“I am, dammit.” He snapped back.

She could see silhouetted figures charging towards them through the trees and flashlights darting about like a light show. Her heart was pounding in her head.

“They’re coming, Daryl. Move the damn truck” she muttered, now rooted to the spot with fear. “We need to move. We need to go or they’re going to turn me into a baby machine. Let’s go. Come on, move it.”

“I know! Just shut up!” he spat, seemingly making the trucks gears grind with everything he tried.

“Trust me to get stuck with the one Redneck who can’t drive stick!” Jess suddenly yelled, trying to stand up in the tiny cab and shifting in front of him with her backside in his face. He sat back and held his hands up, not wanting to touch her without warning and make her even more mad.

“What the fuck are ya doin?!” He shouted back at her.

“Giving you a lap dance! What the hell do you think I’m doing?! Move your ass across to the other seat, I’m driving!” She shrieked at him.

“God sakes, girl!” He complained while he slid across the seats to the other side and made sure the doors were locked.  

Jess put the truck in gear, switched to reverse and hit the gas. The truck shot backwards to the road where she spun the wheel and set off into the distance, leaving the furious men from the clearing jogging to a halt behind them. Daryl opened the glove box and retrieved a map, opening it up on the dash and switching on the overhead light.

“What d’ya think? Circle back or change direction?” He questioned. He knew she would understand what he meant. She was smart enough to know that they had to choose one of two options to be able to outrun them when they got back to their bikes and set off down the same road.

“Change direction.” She answered.

“Alright.” He agreed “Take a right at the end of this road and just keep drivin’, we’ll have to camp somewhere.”

Her face was drying tight with the mud that was caked over her skin and she remembered how softy Daryl had smeared it across her cheeks. Despite the vehicle starting to smell like animal faeces and stagnant water and the two of them looking like the creatures from the black lagoon, Jess couldn’t help but admit that she enjoyed the feeling of him protecting her and in particular, how gentle he had been when he pushed her hair from her face with a fingertip.

The movement of the truck meant that his body swayed subtly as he leaned against the window and sighed. Jess stole a few glances here and there when guilt struck her for yelling at him. The road ahead was sill and dark and rain lashed against the windscreen as the truck pummeled through it. She could see no other headlights or signs of other vehicles each time she checked the rear-view mirror and could only conclude that they’d managed to escape and that if they stayed on the road a little longer, they would be able to find somewhere safe to stop for the night. Another glimpse to her side saw Daryl peering out of his window into the blackness.

“Keep ya eyes on the road.” He ordered.

“I am” She argued.

“No, ya aint. Ya keep lookin’ at me. Can see ya in the reflection.”

Dammit. You’d have made a shitty spy.

In pure spite of his comment and to prove that she wasn’t going to plough into the non-existent oncoming traffic, she twisted her body to face him and glared right at him. He scoffed and shook his head at her stubbornness. Whatever she’d been doing in the months she was apart from him; she’d definitely developed a stubbornness and a sense of defiance that he didn’t detect in her before. Ignoring her almost childish gesture, he leaned forwards to check the map after spotting a road sign that meant they were at least three miles out from where they’d come across the dangerous group of men.

Deciding between them on the next steps to take, they opted to continue driving until they were well out of the way of any patrolling members of their group and Jess put her foot to the floor and sped the truck to the next intersection, where she headed for the highway.

After forty minutes, Daryl held a hand up and signaled for her to slow down, a street sign for ‘The Blue Moon Show lounge’ shot past and he told her to take the next left. Jess was tired and disinterested in arguing, she could have fallen asleep at the wheel if she had to drive any further and so the inviting idea of four walls and a roof was a much desired one.

Little did she know, ‘The Blue Moon’ was an off the highway strip bar nestled at the end of a dirt track and hidden rom the road. It provided them with a place to keep the truck and a roof over their heads for the night. They worked together to clear the building with Jess taking the main bar area and Daryl sweeping the rooms at the back. Five dead bodies were inside, one almost skeletal and the others so chewed up that it was impossible for them to be a threat. Jess put them down easily with her knife and Daryl dragged them out to the storage room.

When he returned to the bar, Jess had upturned two flashlights to light up the room and was noisily rummaging around behind the counter, lifting up bottles and squinting at the labels. She’d emptied the refrigerators and huffed and puffed like a train when she appeared to come up with nothing.

Daryl headed to the door and secured the inside lock, giving the doors a shake in their frames to ensure they were solid enough to protect them.

“For god sakes” he heard her hiss to herself.

“What’s up?” He asked

“All this liquid and there’s not one, single drop of water. I want to clean this crap off my skin.” She complained.

He joined her behind the bar and examined the top shelf above the optics where there was a line of branded vodka bottles that all appeared to be full. He reached up and slid one from the shelf, unscrewing the cap and smelling it.

“Use this” he suggested.

“Really? A vodka shower?” She commented, unimpressed.

“No, dumbass. It’s water. They fill the bottles with it to make ‘em look full. S’all for show”

She didn’t ask how he knew such information and he was glad of it. He’d spent most of his life tagging along with his father and Merle in bars and strip clubs and as a result tended to know a lot of the tricks of the trade. He wasn’t proud of it and hardly ever enjoyed it, although he kept that fact to himself, knowing better than to complain and that if he did, it was likely to get him nothing but a beating.

“Oh” She remarked with a degree of embarrassment “Well, OK. You’re going to have to leave the room or turn around or something. I need some privacy.”

“Check out back. These places usually have private rooms.” He suggested carelessly while rounding the bar and plonking down in a plush chair in front of the stage. Jess followed him and stopped at the start of the seating area. She raised her eyebrow at him. Now, she was going to ask.

“You spend a lot of time in titty bars before the turn, Daryl?” She smirked.  

“No.” He mumbled, taking a quick swig from a half bottle of liquor he’d picked up from behind the bar. He hadn’t been drunk since the turn and had no intentions to either. He didn’t like who he was when he was drunk, so the bottle in his hand was only there to take the edge off after recent events “Not unless my brother dragged me to ‘em.”

“Right. Blame it on Merle. So, it wasn’t the breast implants and g-strings?” She grinned.

That damn smile. Stop it.

“You’re an ass, y’know that?” His comment was not only directed at her mockery of his knowledge of strip bars, it was also a veiled prod at her bright smile and the effect it had on him. He wasn’t sure if he wanted her to smile or not anymore.

“Yeah. I’m good with that.” She agreed as she headed for the double doors that led to the back rooms.

“’Sides, this ain't a titty bar. S’a show lounge” He called out, hearing her chuckle as she left the room.

Jess paced through a hallway full of framed pin up pictures and pushed open doors as she went. Finding a dressing room and the private rooms Daryl was so sure was in existence. She entered the first once where she was able to partially undress and wash some of the mud from her skin with a t-shirt she found screwed up and discarded on the red velvet couch. There were other clothes scattered about. The room boasted rather obvious CCTV cameras and she wonders how much one might pay for a dance in such a room.

Daryl took the opportunity to amble around the building and collect any supplies they might need. When he reached the hallway, he passed the partially open door to the room Jess occupied and found himself doing a double take. The glimpse of her bare skin and the clasp of a black bra through the crack in the door rendered him motionless and everything around him seemed to just drop away. Her back was to him as she gently wiped at her arms with the wet T-shirt. He knew he shouldn’t look and guilt raged through him but she was a vision, even from behind and with her skin sporting the cracked, jagged lines of dried mud. Her black hair swayed at her back in waves from being tied up into a braid. She dropped the t-shirt and lifted both hands, twisting her hair up on top of her head and fastening it with an elastic. He thought for a moment that he might have been dreaming at the sight of the curve of her waist, but it was real. So very real and all he could do was bite his lip and force himself to move on down the hall, giving Jess back the privacy that she deserved.

= = = = = 

When she returned to the main area, she found him sitting on the floor of the stage at the bottom of the pole opening up two cans of pasta with his knife. Jess was relieved they always packed cans in the truck in case they got caught holed up somewhere with no food, much like the situation she found herself in at that moment. She was starving, the smell of the meat from the camp by the stream stirring her need to eat.

Daryl slid a can to her when she sat down cross-legged opposite him with the pole between them and looked around the room, craning her neck to observe the ceiling, the unused lighting rigs and the DJ booth. She mirrored him as he lifted his can to his lips and took big gulps of the gloopy pasta. Her stomach immediately began to settle with some sustenance and she was soon feeling a lot more human again.

“So, how much would you expect to pay for a private room in a place like this?” She wanted to know. The need to wind him up a little more mixing with her genuine curiosity from standing in the room and playing with the idea of what the business must have been like before the turn.

“A lot.” He grumbled.

“C’mon, I’m curious. What would happen in there?” She pressed

“Private dance. No clothes. Some dirty talk. No rush to the next guy with a wad of fifties. S’bout it.”

Her eyebrows lifted and she emptied the final remnant of the pasts into her mouth and chewed. When she was done, she thudded the can down beside her and narrowed her eyes at him.

“You ever done that?” She questioned

His expression changed as he looked up at her through his hair with a can of pasta gripped in his fist. At first, he was calm and willing to talk but her topic of choice was grating on him.

For someone who doesn’t wanna be too friendly she’s sure askin’ me a lot of shit.

“That what you think of me?” he wanted to know.

“Course not, you said Merle dragged you to places like this. So, I just wondered.” She shrugged as if it was nothing.

“Nah. I ain't. Not my thing.” He replied. Cutting the conversation short when he lit a smoke and fell silent. His face was downcast and Jess could tell he was tired too. Taking another person’s life was never an easy task, even in a ‘one or the other’ situation. Given no choice, Daryl had acted to save them both and Jess knew from personal experience that the vision of it doesn’t just go away.

“Are you alright?” She asked him.

“Yeah.” He replied thoughtfully. It wasn’t hard to guess what she was referring to and he appreciated her asking.

“What you did back there… keeping me safe…” she started with a quick glance up at him. He was watching her though his still damp hair. “…thank you. I’m not so good with people. I can fight walkers but when it comes to people, I’ve always managed to just stay out of sight. Terminus was the first time I put myself in full view of anyone still living for a long time. I panicked tonight.”

“I’d do it again tomorrow. Forget it.” Was his oxymoron of a reply. Simple but complex in a way only Daryl could create. He said very little but meant a world of things behind it. It was not lost on Jess; she knew exactly what he meant without having to dissect the sentence.

I’d kill a hundred people just to keep you safe.

“Sorry I almost crushed ya.” He mumbled as he picked at the frayed thread on the ankle of his boot.

“Oh, don’t worry. You didn’t. It’s fine. We had no choice.”

“Yeah. For sure. No choice.”

“Uh Huh. I mean, it wasn’t all bad…”

Stop talking, Jess.

“…you kept me warm. I hope I kept you warm. It was- it was OK. Was fine...”

Stop. Fucking. Talking.  

“…it was nice. I mean, it wasn’t nice like that, uh…no. It was nice of you. I’m going to stop talking now”

He nibbled on his lower lip, a habit he used to stop himself from smiling but it was showing regardless, the corner of his mouth curling up. He didn’t know what she was trying to tell him or why she was suddenly so all over the place and full of nerves, but he did feel the intense, awkward nature of their experience under the trees roots in the stream and he couldn’t deny that if it had been anyone else but Jess, that awkwardness wouldn’t have been present at all. She was turning herself inside out as she picked at the cold can of pasta that had been discarded and brought back to her hands and he could practically see her cursing herself for talking too much. It was the most vulnerable he’d seen her since the quarry and in that moment, he was certain that the old Jess never really went away at all. Opting to change the subject and spare her the agony of mulling over her previous ramblings, he entertained his desire to find out more about why she left.

“Ya never told me exactly why ya bailed” he mentioned.

Unable to avoid his questions, with no one or nowhere to run to, she accepted she at least had to offer him some kind of explanation and after he’d murdered a man with his bare hands to keep her safe, it was the least she could do.

“A few reasons. I didn’t fit in. I was an outcast.”

Being made to actually say the reasons why she left wasn’t something she thought she’d have trouble with. Before it had all been written down in the confines of the pages in her journal. Now, having to voice her decision-making process was turning out to be harder than she thought.

“And I aint? I aint like them. You know that.” He countered.

“You belong with them. I didn’t.” She clarified.

She could tell her answer was nowhere near good enough for him and when he took a long pull of his smoke and sighed thoughtfully, she knew the conversation was far from over.

“That the real reason?” He pressed.

“You mean aside from hearing you say I meant nothing to you and the humiliation?” She quickly threw in.

“That was bullshit, Jess. Ya know I didn’t mean that.” He told her with no hesitation “N’ ya shouldn’t have let those bitches drive ya away like that.”

Hindsight had been a wonderful thing in the story of why Jess had left the camp. There were plenty of why’s and what ifs to contemplate when she thought back but perhaps the biggest one to her was; what if she’d stayed and asked him about what she’d heard? Would it have changed anything? In her heart she knew it probably wouldn’t have and that she still would have ended up departing at some point. She didn’t mean to dredge up the past and what she’d overheard yet again, in fact, she would rather have let it stay in the past and never be spoken of again. But it slipped out and now she knew she sounded bitter and resentful.

“Let me ask you something.” She said, shuffling forwards and holding on to the pole. She rested her head on the back of her hand. “When we first spoke, you asked me exactly what I did in the group. I couldn’t answer you. What did I contribute? What was my role exactly? Carol, she cooked, cleaned everybody’s clothes and is actually really strategic and logical and apparently great with a rifle. Glenn was the go-to guy for runs, You and Merle were the hunters. What did I do?”

Daryl had no answer to offer. All he could do was stare at her and his simmering gaze would have made her knees weak had she been standing up.

“Exactly. So, it wasn’t just a decision I made for me. I made it for everybody else too. I was one less mouth to feed. I’m not sorry I left, Daryl. Look at me now, I’m so much better off for it. I can look after myself. I’m not just some chubby nerd anymore.” She explained.

“Stop it.” He snapped.

“Stop what? Telling the truth?”

“Ain't the truth” he argued, stubbing out his smoke on the stage and flicking it behind him.

“Yes, it is! I buried my head in books and still wore collectible T-Shirts! That girl, she was a big, useless nerd. It’s been a long time since I was her.”

“Yeah. I noticed.”

“You don’t like the change?” She asked.

“Never said that.”

“I guess I always liked the idea of not being what everybody else expected me to be.” She mused.

“Ya doin’ a great job.”

“Your sarcasm is stifling.” She shot at him with an irritated look.

“There wasn’t nothin wrong with ya.” He affirmed.

“Funny, that’s not how I was made to feel.”

“Yeah? Well I was out trackin’ that girl every day for two weeks!” He threw at her with a raised voice. “Guess she was really listenin’ when I taught her how to track. Covered ‘em well.” He got to his feet and started to pace the stage, back and forth, outwardly riled and angered by his disagreement of her choices. But they were not his choices to make and she was not about to get into a debate over that.

Jess didn’t rise to his temper. She stayed in her spot by the pole and witnessed him gradually slow down as the minutes passed.

“I listened to everything you taught me. If you hadn’t taught me all the things you did, I wouldn’t be here now.” She offered as a kind of truce.

You’re mad at me. But you’re the reason I’m still alive. You kept me alive and you weren’t even there.

“Shouldn’t have taught ya nothin. Ya wouldn’t have left then.” He mumbled under his breath.

His admittance said more to Jess than she’d anticipated and she realized as she sat and studied his body language, expression and the things he was saying that she really had hurt him by leaving without a word. By leaving at all. It was now more obvious than ever that he didn’t mean a word of what he said to Merle. Until then, Jess had never dared to hope that she meant anything to anyone. But it was etched on Daryl’s face as plain as day.

“I’d be dead if it wasn’t for you” She whispered.

“Whatever” He grunted, jumping down from the stage and grabbing the liquor bottle from the seat he’d previously been resting in. He took a large gulp, winced and headed to the bar.

“Since you successfully managed to destroy that conversation, I’m going to find somewhere to sleep. Wake me in a couple hours and we’ll swap.” She declared.

“The fuck do you even want from me, huh?” He questioned out of nowhere. “Say ya don’t want nothin’ to do with nobody, live like a damn hermit, refuse to move to Alexandria. Ya let Abraham leer at ya like some two-dollar whore n ya blow so fuckin hot n’ cold with me I don’t know what the hell you want!”

In truth, Jess wasn’t sure what she wanted when she first revealed her identity to him. But after the events of the last 24 hours and all the days spent engaged in prodding mockery and sometimes meaningless conversations, she could conclude that trying to rebuild what they used to have was what she truly wanted. But it wasn’t that easy. She blinked slowly at him from the stage, standing just out of the beam of the flashlight and tried to ignore his scathing comments, purely born from his anger.

“It’s complicated.” She uttered. “I spent so long thinking you hated me. I don’t trust anybody.” He wanted to yell at her that he never hated her, that he cared about her more than even he knew and how much it killed him when she left.

“Ya said we’re as good as we’re gonna be. We’re doin’ better than that. You know we are” He commented. “Do you even wanna be friends like we were before? You n’ me?”

She jumped down from the stage and paused by the double doors with her hand flat on the surface. His apparent unwavering belief in their ability to rebuild their friendship was touching and something she wanted to believe with every piece of her heart. His words back at the stream echoed in her head.

"I won't lose you...not again."

“You and me” She echoed with a sad smile. “It’s a nice prospect…. I’m trying, Daryl.” She uttered before heading through the door and back to the private room she changed in. Before she could even think of such a heavy topic, she needed to invite the sweet embrace of sleep her heavy eyes and weary bones so craved.

= = = = = 

Deanna was frantic when Daryl and Jess finally arrived back at Alexandria in the evening of the following day after enduring hours of tense silence. The route back was longer than expected due to how far out of the way Jess had driven them to avoid the eyes of the group of bikers from the woods. Once Jess explained to Alexandria’s leader what had happened and Daryl unloaded the boxes at the armory, Jess handed the keys back and crossed the street in pursuit of Aaron, who she’d spotted sitting on his front porch when she drove through the gate. Daryl noticed her striding past him and ran after her, catching her arm with his hand. She whirled around, mask and hood up and her eyes flashed with impatience.

“Sorry. ‘bout last night. I was an asshole.” He said, stepping closer and checking his surroundings. Night was falling and the streets were still occupied by patrols and children playing.

“It’s fine. I understand.” She said before trying to back up but he only followed her.

“I’ve never been good with feelings n' stuff. ‘Cept anger. Anger’s what I do.” He confessed.

“You don’t have to explain. Really. Thanks again for what you did - making sure I was safe. Goodnight” She nodded at him with another attempt to move away and this time she triumphed. Daryl stood at the side of the road, under a street light and watched her approach Eric and Aaron’s porch.

NEXT CHAPTER

--- tagging as requested ---

@lilred254​

[thewolfparadox-things]

Wepwawet ( also rendered Upuaut, Wep-wawet, Wepawet, and Ophois) was originally a war deity, whose cult center was Asyut in Upper Egypt (Lycopolis in the Greco-Roman period). 

His name means, opener of the ways and he is often depicted as a wolf standing at the prow of a solar-boat. Wepwawet is more of a War God, thought of as a scout Who clears the way for the army. 

He usually is dressed as a soldier and carrying weapons such as a mace and a bow, Wepwawet is a wolf deity, thus the Greek name of Lycopolis, meaning city of wolves for the town hosting his temple. his motto is "whatever works" he will get things done in the most efficient way possible within the boundaries of Maat. on the lighter side he can be mischievous bordering on the irreverent, he has a somewhat sarcastic and wicked sense of humor, at times he will make one work very hard to achieve your goals, at other times he will give lessons/answers easily. 

He seems to have a fondness for camouflage (both military ACU's and camo for hunting) leather (armor and biker gear), as well as motorcycles, tanks and assault vehicles He demands that his children/worshipers stay healthy and workout often

[jakey-beefed-it]

finally getting around to painting the phobos armor primaris dudes half of shadowspear- any of my warhammer people got any good tips for doing (urban) camo cloaks? I did some pretty credible ones for my sniper scouts years and years ago just by painting sorta blobs of various blacks and greys but I want to do these better, you know? I know @petepaintswarhammer did his amazingly well, but you had a stencil of some kind, right Pete? Maybe i should get a stencil. idk. any advice would be neat.

[musings-of-the-imperial-legion]

Bios

(So, it didn’t work. Because of this, I’ll be posting all of the bios here under a Read More link. Be prepared, because it’ll be a wall of text. It will follow this order: Therak Dynatos, Slavos Dorei, Nathaniel Okayaki, Jakovich Hideyoshi, Ezekyel Takashi, Ebrahimi Roshan, and lastly, the Imperial Legion itself.)

Full Name: Therak Tsuyoi Dynatos

Rank: Captain of the Second Company, Second in the Council of Captains

Age: 345, born March 18th, 655. M41, 1154 Hours.

Place of Birth: Xiliv, Eastern Fringe of Segmentum Ultima

Eyes: Soft blue

Skin Color: Mostly pale, though his head is more of a tan.

Body Type: That of a Large Astarte. Excessively muscled, even moreso than that of other Astartes.

Hair: Thin, well-groomed, and a deep, jet black.

Personality: Therak Dynatos is fairly philosophical, and generally does not fall into the trap most other Astartes do, in believing that they are something more than mortal. In similar fashion, he is fairly quiet, preferring to listen rather than to speak, but will not hesitate to do what he need to command the respect he requires.

Armor: Artificer Armor. His Mark VIII Errant Power armor have a large amount of higher-quality, very thick plates fitted to it, reinforcing the plates. The servos have been replaced with a far more high-quality variant; and the bodysuit itself has even been more armored. An Iron Halo is fitted on the backpack, and a handful of purity seals decorate the armor in various places. There is no Helmet to speak of.

Weapons: Ryza Pattern Storm Bolter, with five spare magazines. Sword-Based Relic Blade. Both Frag and Krak grenades, two of each.

Current Status: Alive, Second in the Council of Captains

———————————————————————————————————–

Full Name: Slavos Dorei

Rank: Primarch of the XI Legion

Place of Birth: Xiliv, Eastern Fringe of Segmentum Ultima

Eye Color: Amber-Brown

Height: About equivalent to Vulkan

Skin Color: Lightly tanned

Body Type: That of a Primarch, far more excessively muscled than a Primarch physically should be.

Hair: Long, jet-black hair that trails to the bottom of his shoulder blades if let free.

Personality: Slavos Dorei is among the kinder Primarchs. Despite his origins as a slave, he has spent a significant amount of time with his brothers, attempting to kindle a stronger bond out of the web of paranoia that seems rampant among them.

Armor: The Armor of Faded Vengeance, a unique armor notable for both it’s size, being a fair amount slimmer than most other sets of power armor, and it’s heavy-handed amount of large, dark-colored chains, particularly around the gauntlets; many of these chains weighing a significant amount, even enough that Astartes have trouble lifting them. He had no helmet to speak of.

Weapons:

Legionnaires Requiem: A unique pattern of Heavy Bolter, notable for it’s design to be held more like a rifle than it is a heavy weapon.

Warfist of Furious Tides: A Unique pattern of Power Fist, notable for both it’s slimness, and the notable attribute of it’s power field covering the entirety of the weapon, rather than simply a single area.

Oathkeeper: A Massive Power Sword, easily as long as Slavos is tall, notable only for it’s size and the Gothic lettering down the center of the blade, which spelled out it’s name. Despite Slavos never using it, he keeps it on him constantly, as it is tradition among his world that whoever wields Oathkeeper is named as the true ruler of Xiliv.

Metallic Destructor: An Archeotech Warhammer, notable for it’s similarities to standard Thunder Hammers, and for it’s odd ability to atomize inorganic matter it comes into contact with. Gifted to Slavos Dorei from a “Mysterious Benefactor”

Current Status: Alive, mostly exploring the Warp for the Traitor Primarchs, but stops back in Realspace every so often for personal reasons.

———————————————————————————————————–

Full name: Nathaniel Koizumi Okayaki

Rank: Captain of the First Company, First in the Council of Captains

Age: 344, born September 30th, 656. M41, 1337 Hours.

Place of Birth: Xiliv, Eastern Fringe of Segmentum Ultima

Eyes: Beige

Skin Color: Mostly pale, though his head is more of a tan.

Body Type: That of a Large Astarte. Excessively muscled, even moreso than that of other Astartes.

Hair: Shaved.

Personality: Nathaniel Okayaki is your typical Astartes, and more. He has an incredibly pointed attitude, a sturdy will to see things through, and more than a thick enough skull to resist hardships that stand in his way. Among the Council of Captains, his voice is often the first heard, and the last as well, if he gets his way. This attitude makes him a sturdy leader, and dangerous in battle.

Armor: Artificer Armor. His Mark VIII Errant Power armor have a large amount of higher-quality, very thick plates fitted to it, reinforcing the plates. The servos have been replaced with a far more high-quality variant; and the bodysuit itself has even been more armored. A Chapter Banner is fitted atop his backpack, and a handful of purity seals decorate the armor in various places. There is no Helmet to speak of.

Weapons: Mark VI Heavy Bolter, with five spare magazines. Master-Crafted Power Maul. Both Frag and Krak grenades, two of each.

Current Status: Alive, First in the Council of Captains

———————————————————————————————————–

Full name: Jakovich Oda Hideyoshi

Rank: Scout Master, Formerly Tenth in the Council of Captains

Age: 824, Born April 1st, 186. M41, 0001 Hours

Eye Color: Steel Gray

Skin Color: Extremely Pale

Body Type: Slimmer than most other Imperial Legionnaires, still excessively muscled, vaguely hairy.

Hair: Long buzz cut, steel gray

Personality: The closest to his Primarch, always attempting to solve disputes calmly, and prefers to teach with kindness not often found in other Astartes. More often than not, he prefers to sit and listen, only putting his own thoughts forward when the need arises.

Armor: Scout Armor. There have been little modifications to his armor over it’s years. It it covered almost fully by a unique Camo Cloak, which constantly shifts its colors to match the terrain around them.

Weapons: Mark Vb Bolter, with four spare magazines. M40/A1 Space Marine Sniper Rifle, with ten spare magazines. Both Frag and Krak grenades, two of each.

Current Status: Alive, AWOL

———————————————————————————————————–

Full Name: Ezekyel Hordohan Takashi

Rank: Captain of the Shadow of Unrelenting Vengeance, formerly the Shadow of Force. Favored son of Slavos Dorei

Age: 400, born January 18th, 950. M30, 1154 Hours.

Place of Birth: Xiliv, Eastern Fringe of Segmentum Ultima

Eye Color: Bright Green

Height:  ~8.5 Ft, ~2.6 M.

Skin Color: Deeply tanned

Body Type: That of a Large Astarte. Excessively muscled, even moreso than that of other Astartes.

Hair: Bald, covered in implants.

Personality: Easily the angriest of all Imperial Legionnaires. Ezekyel Takashi’s state of being can often flip on a dime between unrelenting fury, and the calm of a Primarch; though it was not always this way. After the events of the Horus Heresy, something within Ezekyel snapped, and became the first to suffer the effects of what would later be called ‘The Fury’

Armor: Ezekyel Takashi is one of the few Imperial Legionnaires in it’s entire history to receive Terminator armor, specifically Cataphractii-Pattern Terminator Armor, which had been modified to account for his size. Since it’s acquisition, it had been turned into a variant of Artificer armor, adorned with skulls, and covered by a robe.

Weapons:

The Legion’s Talons: A unique set of Master-Crafted Crusade-Pattern Lightning Claws, one with a built-in Crusade-Pattern Bolter, and the other with a built-in Plasma-Fusil.

Current Status: Alive, Lost in the Warp

———————————————————————————————————–

Full Name: Ebrahimi Khurshid Roshan III

Rank: Admiral and Captain of the Fist of Xalanx, former Commander-In-Chief of the Icarus Defense Forces.

Age: 441, Born September 3rd, 910.M30, 0110 Hours

Place of Birth: Xerxes, Northern Fringe of Segmentum Ultima

Eyes: Dark Brown

Height: 2M, ~6.7 Ft pre-Augmentation; 6 M, ~19.6 Ft post-Entombment

Skin Color: Caramel

Body Type: Large build, heavily muscled

Hair: Shaved Bald

Personality: Eccentric, non-nonsense and straight-to-the-point commander. Relatively kind and unwavering, but refuses to accept excuses. Quick to adapt strategies when they prove inefficient, and slightly paranoid.

Armor: Xellephon-Pattern Dreadnought Chassis with Built-In Anti-Grav device.

Weapons: Micro Turbolaser Destructor, Dreadnought Close Combat Weapon with Built-In Quad Multi Laser, Power Glaive, and Back-Mounted Cyclone Missile Launcher.

Current Status: Alive, Lost in the Warp

———————————————————————————————————–

Legion/Chapter Name: Imperial Legion

Allegiances: Loyalist

Founding: First Founding

Legion Progenitor: Slavos Dorei, XI Primarch

Geneseed Flaws/Mutations/Traits:

Hyperactive Ossmodula: All members of the Imperial Legion are far larger than the standard, easily able to match Primaris in height, and can be considered the largest standard Astartes in the Imperium.

Hyperactive Biscopea: All members of the Imperial Legion are noticeably stronger than the standard. This strength, over a span of centuries, can be continuously expanded to an, as of yet, unknown limit; to the point where the Strongest Imperial Legionnaire has been able to take down an Ogryn in unarmed, bare-body combat through brute force alone, hit-for-hit.

Hypoactive Haemastamen: The Haemastamen within the Imperial Legion acts slower than in most other Astartes, and often times not truly activating at all. This combination with the Hyperactive Ossmodula and the Hyperactive Biscopea could, in theory, result in the members of the Imperial Legion to grow to the height of their Primarch if given the correct conditions.

Missing Omophagea: During early stages, insertions of the Omophagea resulted in chemical imbalances which left an incompatible body for growing of the Progenoids. It was decided early to not include the Omophagea to ensure the Legion’s survival.

“The Fury”: Certain numbers of the Imperial Legion develop a condition though their careers known as ‘The Fury’. Between a combination of the Hyperactive Biscopea, sheer stress from the battlefield, the method the Chemical Treatments are done, grief from the belief of their Primarch’s death, and likely, but unproven, some form of Psychic interference, certain numbers of the Imperial Legion enter a suicidal state, made notable by the desire to clad themselves in little but their ceremonial robes, and charge at the foe with Eviscerators, ignoring any and all pain they endure.

“The Farms”: One of the most important aspects of the Imperial Legion, and yet, is also their greatest secret. During the Implantation process, within some members, the Progenoid glands undergo an effect which is not yet fully understood. The progenoid glands begin a rapid mutation, expanding and encompassing most of the empty space within the former initiates body, bloating them into deformed masses of what they once were, and pressing other organs up against the stretched flesh. These “Farms” however, have a far greater use, given that these expanded Progenoid glands are still completely usable. Each one matures quickly, and can have it’s Geneseed harvested repeatedly, and far easier than with other Astartes.

Unreliable Melanochrome: After the intense battling of the Rain of Blood Campaign, the Melanochrome began to malfunction, affecting even those Marines that weren’t directly affected by the land battle, resulting in a large number of Imperial Legionaries to develop a darker, more mud-like skin color.

Successors of: N/A

Successor Chapters: None

Founder: Slavos Dorei

Legion Strength: [30k] 230,000, [40k] 1,000 Battle Brothers, 1,500 Scout Marines, 2,000-3,000 initiates-in-training.

Homeworld: Xiliv; a feudal world in the Eastern Fringe of Segmentum Ultima, in the Suom sector.

Legion Demeanor: Brothers In battle, Purity of Flesh, Uphold the Honor of the Emperor

Legion organisation: Codex Divergent. The Imperial Legion does not have a Chapter Master, and instead, it’s ruling is done via a Council of the Captains.

Doctrines: Close Combat, Melee

War Cry: A loud screaming.

Colors: Grey and White.

Heraldry: A Sword going through a Fist

Notable Ships:

Fist of Xalanks: Gloriana-Class Battleship

Shadow of Unrelenting Vengeance, formerly the Shadow of Force: Retribution-Class Battleship

Notable Figures:

Primarch: Slavos Dorei [30k-40k]

Second Company Captain: Therak Dynatos [40k]

Scout Master: Jakovich Hideyoshi [40k]

First Company Captain: Nathaniel Okayaki [40k]

Captain: Ezekyel Takashi [30k-40k]

Admiral: Ebrahimi Khurshid Roshan III [30k-40k]

Unique Units:

Ogre-Class Dreadnought: A unique Dreadnought notable for it’s heavier armor, and for it’s ability to be more flexible with it’s weapon armaments, capable of easily replacing both arms with almost any weapon standard Dreadnoughts could carry, as well as weapons that are found almost exclusively on more Specialized Dreadnoughts, and weapons usually not put on Deadnoughts at all. The Ogre-Class Dreadnought is the very definition of multi-purpose.

Avengers: A squad of anywhere from five to ten Imperial Legionnaires, each one overwhelmed by The Fury. Rather than how other Astartes chapters deal with similar issues, the Imperial Legion allows these marines to go out in the blaze of glory they desire. Each clad in only robes, and each armed with an Eviscerator, these Astartes quickly become the bane of any vehicle they come into contact with. There are some among the Legion that finds the practice of using these Astartes in this way distasteful, and it is a widely debated topic within the Chapter.

Xellephon-Pattern Dreadnought: Only one of it’s kind. Built utilizing technology from the planet Xerxes, and used only to save the life of admiral Ebrahimi Roshan after sustaining chronic wounds at the hands of an Ork boarding party.

[nerderydomain]

Campaign Battle Report 2: Orktober in Nobvember

Mission: So we were playing the narrative play mission, Disrupt Supply Lines. I got the mission confused with another mission from Elites, Vital Supplies, so I was on the wrong mission parameters, but that didn’t hurt me overly much. Disrupt Supply Lines is an interesting narrative play mission, and it doesn’t feel like punishes hordes or elites too much. A horde team can try to hide and tie up a team with sacrificial charges for a bit, while an elite team can go hunting and try to kill more and make things a bit more equal for holding the points. You also get a point for breaking the other team, so that does incentivize killing. The attacker can try to destroy the objectives, but that isn’t a guarantee of scoring the last one, so it’s a bit of a gamble, so it’s balanced okay enough.

Deployment: I was facing up against Carl’s Orks at this 150 point match. Carl brought a scary list with a Warboss commander, an Orkboy Boss Nob leader, 1 boy gunner heavy with big shoota, a zealot and combat burna, 1 regular burna, 4 boyz, and three gretchins. The gretchins are important for later in the mission. I had prepared a roster if he brought a bunch of nobz, so I brought that for the Warboss. I brought my Cebolla, scout sgt with camo cloak leader, Cilantro, termie sgt with storm shield and thunder hammer combat (he was for nobz, but he worked just the same for the commander), Jalepeno, medic with powersword and handflamer, and added Serrano, my terminator gunner with heavy flamer. Serrano is a heavy not for the level 1 ability, but to hopefully level him up and make him stronk for fluffiness. I brought as non-specialists Tomatillo (intercessor gunner with AGL and Auspex), Garlick (melee scout), and Lima (scout gunner with heavy bolter). I was able to deploy my gunline of Lima, Tomatillo, and Cebolla up on a second story of a building, Jalepeno and Garlick were placed at the end of the deployment zone ready to intercept orkz, and Cilantro and Serrano were placed in reserve. Carl placed his gunner behind some cover and then set up a big Waaggh! with his grotz in front followed by burnas and boyz with the warboss in the back.

Turn 1 movement, Carl got initiative and advanced his Waaaggh! up, readying his shooter. I readied my gunline, charged Jalapeno and Garlick into a burna who got a great advance roll and was in flamer range (re-rolling an armor save on Garlick for the overwatch), and deep struck Cilantro and Serrano behind his Waaagh! onto one of the objectives thinking that I was supposed to destroy them to get my most scoring for the game. Turn 1 shooting, his boy whiffed, my AGL and heavy bolter did some work, taking out 3 or 4 boyz and grots. The sniper rifle didn’t do anything, because of course they don’t. Jalapeno and Garlick whiffed in combat, and his burna took a wound off of Jalepeno if I recall right. At this point I realized that I had the mission wrong, but it worked out okay to have a pincer on his Waaagh between my termies and melee guys.

Turn 2 movement, I won initiative, withdrew Jalapeno, readied my gunline, moved my flamer into range to flame and charged Cilantro into his warboss. Poor, poor supple Garlick (inside joke), stayed in combat. Carl, in a brutally cunning move, charged his grot first into my flamer termie, and he was so small I didn’t have LoS on him. He then chain charged almost all his forces into my termies together, with two boyz and a nob joining his burna surrounding Garlick. Turn 2 shooting, my gunline took out his shoota. Turn 2 combat, I tried to spread around the pain with my hammer, two into the boss and 1 into a boy and grot, but I whiffed on three attacks, only doing three damage to the four wound Warboss. I should have done more attacks to the warboss, but live and learn. His warboss did the job on my termie, so I death denied it, and lived to fight another turn.

Turn 3, Carl won initiative, but I started advancing my gunline down to the other objective, and everyone else stayed in combat. Shooting, Jalapeno did a fleshwound with the handflamer. No one else did anything. Turn 3 combat, Jalapeno survived the first attack, and then I selected him to fight and cleared out the Nob and boy who hadn’t attacked him yet and then used Up and At Them to attack with the Termie Sgt. and cleaned up on the warboss. My termie gunner took out a burna or grot and Carl had to take a break test. He broke, and that was about the game. Turn 4, I got to the points, and controlled two of them at the end of the game. But I forgot to use my medic special ability, so he couldn’t level up! Arggh!

But overall, this was a fun game. I got lucky that Up and At ‘Em let me take out the Warboss, but that could have gone differently.

[happytroopers]

Hey! Can I request a fic of the reader getting cold way too easily or they can’t handle it (usually I can’t cause my fingers will turn purple and my nails will turn blue. Including the fact that I won’t be able to move them as much) and one day or a few? It’s too cold for them to handle and they just kinda collapse or can’t function properly (it sounds weird I know but it’s been painful with the cold lately hehe..)

--Hopefully this works!-Mod Madi ✌️

By the force, you thought, grinding your teeth together, this planet was so, so cold.

After the cruiser had picked up a random beacon while passing a nearby planet, the 501st had been told to investigate the origin of the signal on a small, ice planet in the outer rim. You had no idea why the council was so worried about this random signal, there were no records of any inhabited cities on the planet. But, you did know that Anakin was not happy about this.

You had been previously assigned to the 501st legion in order to help Anakin...stay on task. He had loudly voiced his opposition to this assignment, having felt that there were more important battles to be fought. So, you had suggested that in order to save time and make the council happy, you and few others could run a quick scout mission on the planet, find the beacon, and then radio in whether or not the beacon was a big deal. As a newly appointed Knight, you had been eager to show to the council and other Jedi that you were a capable Jedi. Anakin had loved your idea, and sent you, Fives, and Echo out to scout ahead. While you had been so eager for action on the cruiser, you were now more than ready for the mission to be over.

As you aimlessly wandered through a blank expanse of thick snow, you couldn’t help but notice the vast expanse of nothingness all around you. There was so much snow for miles, with only a few icy rocks here and there. There had been nothing for miles. Now, you were angrily trudging through knee high snow in white, camo issued armor, with a white hood that did little to  warm your long, red lekku. The Boys were all also marching with you, in their own white, snow armor. Anakin had convinced you all to travel by foot from the drop off point for an element of surprise. It might’ve seemed like a good idea in theory, but you were all now suffering in practice. Ever since you’d all landed here, you’d all been muttering angrily over the comms about the cold planet.

“You know what’s worse than this marching? The fact that the beacon is probably nothing more than a false alarm,” Echo mumbled.

“I swear,” Fives grumbled, “if we all had to come all this way for nothing, I’ll set fire to the entire base myself.”

“And I’ll-AH,” you yelp as you stumble and almost fall face forward into the snow.

“Hey, are you okay (Y/N)?”Fives asks, a tinge of worry in his voice.

He and Echo stop their march and turn around to face you.

During the march, you had slowly fallen towards the back of the group, as you started to struggle through the thick snow.

“Hah, yeah, just uh, a bit tired,” you said, forcing a nervous smile on your face.

At least, you think you smiled towards Fives. You couldn’t really feel if your face actually made a real smile.

“C’mon guys, the coordinates are really close! We just need to go just a little bit farther!”

Despite the fact that your armor had been issued to keep you from freezing, the past few hours of marching had led you to believe that it was defective. For the past hour and a half, the constant, silent cold of the planet had slowly crept its way through your “insulated” armor, and into your skin. First, your fingers, feet, and lekku had begun to feel painfully cold. No big deal, you had thought at first, this is just what the cold feels like. The sooner we find the beacon, the sooner we go home. However, you had felt a little less fine about the cold around 2 miles ago, when the irritating cold feeling had been replaced with a numbness that made it feel like all of your extremities, along with your upper arms and lower legs, were no longer a part of you. It was not a feeling that you were used to, having come from a desert planet yourself. In all honesty, you hadn’t had any experience with this level of cold before. You had begun to feel more afraid when the numbness made walking through the snow difficult. Your originally confident march through the snow had turned into a slightly painful, awkward, trudge. Your numb legs constantly wobbling like they were made of jello. Each step you took made it feel like your legs were about to buckle underneath you. But, this is just a what cold planets are like. I’m fine, I’m still moving. We are gonna find the beacon, then I can sit in the refresher for an hour if I want, you tried to convince yourself.

The thought of a nice, warm shower in the refresher filled you with a new sense of determination. If trudging just a few more feet forward through the snow is what it took, than this would all be worth it. With a deep breath, you try and urge your feet to move more quickly, propelling yourself past Fives and Echo. They had stopped

Despite your attempts to move as if nothing is wrong, your awkward, almost painful, gait is noticed by Fives and Echo, who give each other a worried glance. Despite the snow helmets covering their faces, a singular understanding passes between them. Something is wrong.

“Uh, (Y/N),”Echo speaks up, “maybe we should take a quick break. Just catch a breather. I’m sure General Skywalker wouldn’t mind.”

“Yeah,” Fives continues, “a quick break can’t hurt. I mean we’re making great time.”

You pause for a moment, trying not to breathe hard, as you turn around in the snowy field to look back at them.

Had you really only walked just a few steps ahead of them? You had tried to focus on your feet as you moved, pushing one in front of the other, willing them to hold you and not fall. It had been exhausting work, and you had only gone a few steps. The fear from a few moments ago begins to settle in your stomach again, cold and unwelcome.

No, impossible, you shake your head, I know I worked harder to move than just a few feet.

But, your legs vicious wobbling protest against your thoughts.

Cold dread tingles down your spine.  You look towards where Fives and Echo are standing behind you, thoughts racing as you begin to realize that maybe… you can’t finish this mission as you had hoped. Maybe, you should have spoken up about the numbness? You definitely, should’ve radioed in about your faulty armor. Faced with these thoughts, you aren’t sure what to do, and your focus on remaining upright begins to waver.

“(Y/N)?” Echo asks, “Are you okay?”

“Guys, I. Maybe a break would be-”

“(Y/N)! Echo! Lookout!” Fives yells, pulling out his blaster.

While you were all distracted, a separatist probe droid had materialized itself from behind a large, ice covered rock a few clicks ahead of you all.

Echo races to grab his blaster, while Fives take a shot at the droid. Its able to dodge his shot, before racing towards the three of you. In the moment, you can tell that it’s probably trying to fly towards you all in an attempt to rush and startle the three of you. This would allow it to escape and fly away above your heads. Your immediate instinct is to grab the sabers from the belt at your waist. You plan to use them to slash the droid in half, stopping it from alerting any separatist forces nearby. But, instead of being able to grab your sabers and jump away from the speeding droid, your trembling legs finally buckle underneath you.

With a WHUMP, you fall back into the snow beneath you.

“Ah!” you let out a startled cry.

“(Y/N)!” Fives yells, before you hear a blaster shot hit the droid.

Despite wanting to move, to push yourself up, to even push the snow, stinging and cold against your face and lekku, off of you. But...you can’t. You freeze, both mentally and physically, unable to move. Your stunned, you’re sure. If you can stop breathing heavily, maybe you can calm down enough to stand up.

A few seconds later, Fives grabs your hands, pulling you up and out of the snow. You try to thank him, and stand on your own, but find you still can’t stand on your own. When you almost fall backwards again into the snow, Fives quickly grabs you, slinging your left shoulder over his right shoulder, so that he can help support you.

“I got the droid!” Echo yells.

With the sound of crunching snow, Echo comes running up to you and Fives, and goes to support you too, slinging your right shoulder over his left shoulder.

“Ah, uh,” You mumble, “sorry guys...I guess you could say I froze. Haha.”

Your voice is light but your heart is heavy with shame.

“Don’t worry about it (Y/N), you know we have your back,” Echo says.

“Hah,” Fives chuckles, “literally this time.”

When you don’t chuckle in response, Echo gives Fives another quick glance before saying, “Uh, so (Y/N). Are you...sure you’re okay?”

“I mean, you kinda froze and fell,” he immediately gets a glance from Echo, “Uh, not that there’s anything wrong with that. But, it seems like maybe you aren’t as okay as you said you were before.”

They both turn in towards you to look at your face. When you don't immediately answer, you can see them both begin to look for any immediate signs of injury on your body. The dread, fear, and shame from before fade away, and instead you feel a bit warm inside. A smile, although painful to form, spreads across your face as you look at them.  

“Well,” you let out a deep sigh, “I’m. I’m sorry guys. For the past few miles my arms and legs went from just cold to being completely numb. I fell because...I couldn’t make myself stand on my own two legs anymore. I don’t know how I got this cold, I mean, I guess somethings wrong with my armor, but, I didn’t want you guys to worry. I didn’t want to...slow us all down.”

You look away from their helmets in shame. You’ve known Fives and Echo ever since the battle of Kamino, and you have come to know them as your closest friends in the 501st. Having known them this long, you know that nothing will make them more frustrated, than a fellow soldier sacrificing their own safety for the good of the mission. There’s nothing more dangerous to a soldier, or the mission, than someone who doesn’t speak up when something is wrong.

“Why didn’t you tell us sooner?” Echo asked incredulously, “We could've radioed in for backup armor  an hour ago!”

“Yeah, I know but...I figured that it we’d be done before anything really bad happened.”

“What's worse than freezing to death?!” Fives shakes his head angrily, “(Y/N). What the kriff were you thinking? Your safety is well worth a few extra minutes on this terrible ice rock.”

You feel your cheeks heat up a bit in shame, “I know. That was really stupid of me, guys. I’m sorry for making you worry, and...your for ruining the mission.”

“You didn’t ruin the mission (Y/N),” Echos says.

“That's sweet of you Echo, but I really did. If you guys want you can go on without me. I can sit in the snow for a bit.”

“What? NO, No (Y/N). The droid was the beacon,” Fives says.

“WHat? You mean all of this…”

“Was for nothing? Sadly, yes,”Fives answers.

“You’re joking! All of this... for a probe driod?”

Echo lets out a short laugh,”When Fives ran to get you and I shot the Droid, the beacon disappeared. It must have been some sort of a diversion.”

Now you stare incredulously at Echo.

You shake your head, “Well. I guess that's good news.”

“No,” Echo sighs,” it’ll be good if you don’t get injured from the cold.”

“I know..I really am sorry you guys,” you say sheepishly.

He lets out an exasperated sigh, “I know. Just...it’s frustrating to think you’d let yourself get hurt...for a mission that wasn’t even that important. You’re worth more than a probe droid.”

“Yeah,” Fives agrees,” We’ll always have your back on the field (Y/N). But, that doesn’t mean you should put yourself in danger. You’re an important part of the 501st, we need you.”

Despite the cold, you feel your eyes water just a little bit. The warm flicker you felt in your chest earlier comes back in full force. Your heart swells with affection for your friend.

“I love you guys,” you whisper, staring into their faces.

They respond with small chuckles and pull you into a group hug.

From your wrist, you here the com beep. Looking up, you can see the transport coming to take you all to safety.

[capngabnthelivingshitpost]

My abandoned TF story.

So this was a tale lost to the einds of time I created many a moon ago. It's Grabuge (transformers pun YEAH!). So without further ado here it is.......... Millions of years ago on a distant planet………… “-eports indicate that the Decepticon movement is gaining more popular-*click*WE NEED TO STOP THESE UPSTARTS AND PUNISH THEM FOR WHAT THEY'VE DON-*beow*” “Hey, Flameflash why the frag’d you turn it off? I was watching that!” A brown & magenta bot in front of a giant multi screen monitor asked his comrade, scrunching up his blue visor and trying best he could to frown through his mouthplate. He couldn't. “Because,Horse-Power, Delta wants us to report to his quarters for some reason. I don't know” A orange & reddish bot with highlights of green responded to Horse-Power, his yellow optics shining brightly as he shrugged. “B'sides you were just skipping through channels not actually watching anything” “Fine, *sigh* let's go” Horse-Power said as he got up scooting his chair in. The two bots began walking down hallways of their base,Grandus Maximus,it was an old one built years before the war, before the Senate even. The prime from then,Nova,built it in preparation of a threat that never actually came to fruition. There were rumors of it being alive with it occasionally being said to speak (yet no one's heard it if so), high energy readings in it not to dissimilar from spark readings, the two northern towers rotary cannons appearing to be fingers and the towers having joints similar to the ones found in elbows along with the southern ramps looking like legs with metal attached, and last but not least the main command hub looks like a giant head with a helmet on and visor pulled over it's optics. If it has any. “Ey.” “Huh.” “So what do you think of the ‘Cons ideals starting to gain traction with more people and them attacking our territories more?” “To be honest with you, it's…a bit terrifying”,Flameflash responded as a chill went down his spine,”Well here's Deltas office.” He said after moments of silence when they arrived at a small room in the center of Grandus’ inner square. “NO! This isn't working! AAAGGGHHH!!!” Everyone around it stopped what they were doing and stared for a few seconds with the only sounds being (non sentient) machinery working away. Flameflash and Horse-Power gave each other looks of worry as they walked in. “Hey boss are you alright?”Horse-Power asked in a low voice as he tried to put his hand on Delta's lengthy shoulders.”Ya need some help?” Delta sighed as he sat back in his chair.”No. It's fine. I just don't understand how to work this STUPID computer!” He shouted as he slammed his fist into the little indentation from his previous meltdowns on his desk.”So I'm trying to turn on the whatchamacallit… ‘Autonet’”, snapping his fingers when he realized what it was,”but it isn't working!” “Well what you do is take the mouse here and move it to the the little insignia icon and double click. See not so hard.”Horse-Power told him as he demonstrated. “Need any more-”,AHEM. Horse-Power looked up with the look of ‘The frag man’ splayed across his face as Flameflash interrupted. “Yes, Flash?”,Delta responded.”What do you want?” “You called us in for a meeting sir.” Flameflash answered as matter of factly as he could which wasn't very much. “Aw yes. I almost forgot, thanks.” The green and red bot muttered through his mouthplate as he turned and reached into a filing cabinet almost hitting Horse-Power with his shoulders. He then for a few minutes looked through all of the files, looked back,and checked a few more times before finally pulling out a giant folder and slamming it down. “This here is the file about the team you two are going to be put on with me leading.” He told them as he handed the file over sounding proud of himself. The two bots in front of him both reached for it with Flash grabbing it after a couple seconds of confusion between them. “Let's meet your squadmates and you can read that as we go.” Delta said firmly as he passed them by into the hallway. Delta Squad DELTA MAGNUS Function: Squad leader . Alt Mode:Heavy assault missile carrier Appearance: Operative has the same basic silhouette as those in the Magnus line. Operative is predominantly green with red on his torso,chest,shoulder edges,joints,knee pads,hands,and armor. Operatives frame has his alt mode missile launchers on his shoulders impeding him when walking in corridors or doorways, he can make them erect yet this has its own set of problems. Operative has a mouthplate that covers most of his face with his green optics unobstructed. Weapons: Operative has high energy nucleon rifles built into his arms capable of paralyzing those shot or terminating them with enough power. Operative has a solar powered mace that has replaced his left hand but can also function as a cannon. Operatives alt mode cryo-missile launchers work in both modes. Mental Profile: Operative is the archetypal Autobot general, being kind and caring but making sure to be commanding when he has to be. QUICKFIRE Function: Tech whiz Alt Mode: High flying scout aircraft Appearance: Operative is very small compared to the rest of his squadmates. Operatives alt mode kibble is very prominent with his wings hanging off his legs but being small enough to not impede locomotion. Operative is a black with pink highlights lining his joints,limbs,cockpit,wings,and face. Operatives head has a helmet on it providing him with improved audio receptors and instant access to any nearby machinery to control remotely,courtesy of Wheeljack,but it does short out with prolonged usage. Operatives face has bright glowing pink optics,a very pointy smell receiver,and a constant grin plastered across his face. Weapons: Operative has a very small Plasma Musket and a combat knife for close quarters. Mental Profile: Operative is always trying to make new and better software applications and patches for his teammates against their insistence because of his need to help no matter what. Operative has a deep seated hatred of all Decepticons and has been having random panic attacks, with worse problems showing through despite his claims nothing's wrong. BOOMPOWER Function: Explosives specialist Alt Mode: Zero G energon mining vehicle Appearance: Operative is dark blue with a slightly lighter shade in a camo pattern. Operative has a scar across the front side of his torso from a mining accident. Operative still wears his old mining equipment for armor and has been adding extra holsters and pockets to his frame for his explosives. Operatives head has very prominent audio receptors that give him improved hearing. He has blue optics and a perpetual frown Weapons: Operative has a ununtrium covered drill used to pierce the heavens. Operative uses this in his interrogations and to bludgeon enemies. Operative uses a launcher that fires shells of superheated engex. Mental Profile: Operative usually speaks in a gruff imposing tone. Operative drinks to forget his problems, but when he drinks to much his gruff voice becomes a quick mumble with no one understanding him besides his Conjunx,Casket. Operatives rough attitude is just a ploy covering up the bot who just wants to stop fighting and rest. CASKET Function:Medic Alt Mode: 6 Wheeled medical ATV Appearance: Operative is a light golden color with a warm red on his hands,feet,knees, various crosses, and forehead chevron. Operative is a medium sized bot with a upgraded version of the basic medic frame. Operatives kibble is stored in a backpack that can turn into a medical tent and shield. Operatives head has a small chevron that curves around their head. Operatives face has a visor attached to the chevron that can slide down to cover his optics and gives him various forms of enhanced vision. Operative has blue optics. Weapons: Operative uses a syringe launcher that has various forms of ammo. Operative also uses a stun gun. Operatives melee weapon is a highly brutal bonesaw. Mental Profile: Operative has a caring personality yet the patients he's lost over the years takes a toll on his psyche making him pessimistic at best and nihilistic at worse. Operatives philosophy is “Medics can't stop death, they just make it a bit more bearable”. Operative sometimes goes into cycles of isolation and usually the only thing that gets him out is his Conjunx. They soon arrived at Grandus’ ship bay. With Delta leading the two bots down some stairs they soon arrived at their ship the Boson Bomber. “Everyone, these are the newest additions to Delta Squad. I want you all to tell them congratulations.” Delta commanded of the squad. “Nice job mates.” Quickfire said enthusiastically. “Great. More bots for me to fix.”Casket said as he shined his saw. “Just try not to die and you'll be fine.” Boompower told the new recruits, extending his arms for a handshake. They grabbed his hands and as he began the shake Flameflash could've sworn he heard something crunch. “Now that everyone's met we should get on the ship and start briefing for the mission.” Delta told his men as the ramp into the ship opened up letting everyone walk in. The ship was an old supply carrier that had been outfitted with fusion cannons and explosive payload capabilities. “So what's our mission chief?” Flameflash blurted to his commander from across the briefing room. “Yes. Without further ado I shall introduce JadeRaven,” Delta said as he turned on the holo screen in the center of the room showing a Decepticon with an avian alt mode who was a sickly green in color with some dark brown here and there.”Our intel has said he is trying to take the lower Tagan Heights manufacturing facilities for some unknown reason. Our mission is to find him and capture him if possible and find out his plan. Any questions...yes. Quickfire?” Quickfire put his hand down.”What the frag kind of a name is JadeRaven?!” ……………………………………………………….. Anger. Disappointment. These were the thoughts going through JadeRaven’s head as was standing in his CenCom Facility. The Autobots were in his troops sewing dissent towards him and leaking intel, and now an Autobot SpecOps team was close to ringing on his doorbell. “RubyWolf report to quadrant 3 sector 4.6”,he said as turned his wrist comm,”I need my logistics officer at my side to help command.” “At once my sire.” The con on the other end responded. JadeRaven had some of the most loyal lieutenants and troops out of all the Decepticon generals. He was once a part of a exploratory crew that crash landed in a unexplored part of space and was stranded there. He and the crew tried for solar cycles and solar cycles to get off the planet until they eventually gave up and tried living there. Overtime they found a source of energy that transformed them into mineral/beast hybrids. They were soon after able to call Decepticons that were passing by, with the mineral fueling their ships radio equipment. When he arrived at the ship he converted almost all the crew and troops of the ship into “Minanimals”, and when doing so it made those he transformed extremely loyal. “Yes, my leige, what do you need?” RubyWolf asked his commander. “I need you run defense program alpha 86. We're going to blow these intruders out of the sky.” After he said that his mobile fortress transformed with panels opening up and turrets popping out and started firing into the sky. Happiness. Relief. These were the feelings going through his head. ……………………………………………………….“H-Hold o-on every-ybod-dy this is g-goin-ng to be-e a b-bump-py rid-de”,Flameflash stuttered as he was piloting the best he could through the constant barrage of laser fire,”the l-lan-nding zone is up ahead.” It had been a long night for the crew of the Boson Bomber with them leaving at 5 breems after 6 PS, which left them flying through the Rust Sea for about 7 groons with a storm taking up almost half that time. 4 groons later they found a Autobot convoy heading to the lower Tagan Heights to try and take the area from Jade’s control. At around 12 groons after the start of their flight they arrived. “For Primus sake can you try and not get us killed ‘Flamer’!”Casket shouted over the blasts going on around the ship. “First, my nickname is Flash,and second,I'm trying best I can alright? So just sit back and let the pilot do his work!”,Flameflash said with a slight hint of annoyance in his voice,”See. We're landing right now. I told you I was good at this.” “As soon as we land get out and find cover! We'll move up through quadrant 3 and try to get to JadeRaven that way! Ready?” Delta asked as they finally landed. “Ready!” The squad repeated while they ran out of the aircraft before it even touched down, with Casket grabbing fistfuls of medical supplies and stashing them away, Quickfire putting on his helmet trying to hack some Decepticon turrets and failing, Boompower destroying some Con encampments and drilling into them, Delta freezing several enemies that were running away, Horse-Power shooting some cons that were occasionally peeking out, and Flameflash running up after landing a ways away. “*huff-huff* You *huff*guys need *huff* some he-aaahhh!!!” Flash yelped as he tripped over a corpse. “You really should be more careful. I honestly don't want to fix you this early into the mission.” Casket said as he was grabbing a Con in a headlock. “Yeah yeah, whatever Doc.”Flameflash retorted as he dusted himself off and shot a Con about to knockout his brother with him hearing a faint “Thanks!” in response. “ALRIGHT! We'll move up to the Comm towers,we'll split, take them, and call for reinforcements! Let's GO!!” Delta shouted rallying his troops as he transformed and provided a small opening for them to run through, with Boompower in the back providing covering fire. “Hey Autobot”, A Decepticon shouted at Boompower as he turned to catch up, “look out below!!” and as he said that the ground beneath Boompower burst open with plasma and fire licking at him burning the Autobot, then landing with a sickening crunch. “Oh frag!!! Boomy I'm coming to help!!!” Casket shouted as he turned around and saw his Conjunx land harshly. “‘Boomy? What kind of a name is ‘Boomy?!” The Con asked through his snickering laughter. “A very nice one!”, Casket shouted in the Cons face as he pulled out his saw and punched him causing him to stumble backwards. “Now, this may hurt some but I'll try my hardest to make you suffer.” Casket told him as the saw engaged it's “amputation” mode and he lowered it with a look of maniacal satisfaction on his face. “Wait, I'm sorry please no no-aaagghghh!!!!!” The Con pleaded as the saw entered his body at the waist and slowly moved up, tearing his spark in twain. Casket then ran over to his Conjunx still covered in the Cons energon. “Alright, where is the pain?” He asked as he cradled Boompower in the middle of the battlefield. “Everywhere. But the sight of you’s making me feel better already. Ow.” Boompower said as he tried getting up and almost fell but Casket caught him. “Aw, thanks. You flatter me but nothing compares to your-” Casket tried telling him before being cut off by Flameflash, “Stop flirting and get the slag over here. We need some big booms.” He said through the radio on the other end making explosion effects with his hands to accentuate what he said even though they couldn't see him. “*sigh* We'll get there in a klik. I have to carry Boomy though.” Casket told Flash as he transformed and used his alt mode repair bay arms to pick up Boompower, racing to everyone else's locations and trying as hard as he could to not hit bumps or to shake. As they arrived they could tell taking over the towers was going to be a lot harder than once thought. Missile batteries and Gatling guns covered the external layer of the buildings with even more guns and traps inside. Delta eventually decided on a plan to drill inside from the bottom and attack that way. So they sent Boompower to drill(against Caskets argument) enough to where they can get in but not to much so the Cons notice. ……………………………………………………….. “We're in position sir, do we go now?” Quickfire queried of his commander. “Yes. Move up.” Delta told the squad on the holofeed Quickfire had installed. “Oh yeah! Take this cons.” Horse-Power shouted when he jumped out of the floor hitting two cons, knocking them out. Quickfire and Flameflash crawled out behind him. “Can you possibly be more reckless and loud?” Flameflash angrily asked as he bumped into Horse-Power on his way to the door. “I mean, you are a real soldier, right?” “Yes. I think. Maybe.” Horse-Power said as he suddenly found himself lost in thought looking extremely let down. Quickfire walked up and tried to wrap his arms around his squadmates shoulders but could only pat their backs, “C’mon we're a team guys so go easy on each other.” “I guess he's right”, Flameflash said looking away and rubbing the back of his head, “well let's take this place over.”, saying this with a hint of regret he walked into the doorway there was a small clicking noise as soon as his foot touched the ground. “Hey guys. Do you hear something?” He asked looking over his shoulder. “SILENT ALARM ACTIVATED” rang through the base as guns and soldiers appeared out of every nook and cranny. “Oh frag. Let's move!” Horse-Power shouted while he moved through the door and ran up the stairs with his teammates following behind. “What kind of a silent alarm announces it's activated?” Flameflash questioned as he pushed a random Con into the firing path of a gun that barely missed him. The Autobots gradually found their way through the base neutralizing soldiers and shutting things down. They arrived at the control room after a a few kliks of running from some Decepticon goliaths, killing them by tricking them into falling out windows handily nearby.The team walked the door as sneakily as they could and peeked inside seeing a room full of mineral covered Cons. “Alright, the plan is uhhh…”, Quickfire trailed off going blank before fear flashed across his face, “NO NO, STAY AWAY FROM ME! LEAVE!!!” “What do we do!?” Flameflash nervously asked as the team engineer spasmed on the ground while the Cons slowly strolled towards them. “I don't know! Call Casket and ask. I'll cover you while you get him out of here!” Horse-Power shouted at his brother, he then pulled out his rifle and began to fire, but a Con covered in black minerals that appeared to transform into a crustacean grabbed his gun tearing off his hand along with it. “Ah ah ah, I don't think so little bots,” He smoothly told them while his maw chittered with each word. “JadeRaven told me that there was an Autobot team heading for us but I wasn't expecting a mentally deficient technician,” looking down at the murmuring bot on the floor then turning his attention to Horse-Power, “a daredevil that listens to no one's advice,” tossing his hand to him, “and a disgrace of a soldier who's only good attribute is that he spends to many cycles playing games.”, his attention finally landing on Flameflash. Quickfires holofeed turned on, “We have the tower under our control, do you have yours?” Delta questioned. The Con leader bent down and picked up Quickfires arm in his giant claw, “Yes, in fact I've had this for many Solar Cycles, or were you talking about your men? Cause if so...no they do not. But go ahead and try to free your men, but by the time you get here they'll already be dead. Signing off, Lobsidier.” Crushing Quickfires arm afterwards with him either not caring or not noticing. “Now”, Lobsidier said with glee in his optics, “let's get on to the suffering. Um….you there. Take the them to the torture room or whatever it's called and start the working two up with a bit of, oh I don't know, Straxian acid torture, and this one”, kicking the small mech in the face leaving gashes across it, “I think he needs some shock therapy.” ……………………………………………………….. Pretty soon they arrived at the torture chamber with the screams of the suffering echoing throughout. Horse-Power was brought to a unplugged recharge slab covered in what he hoped wasn't energon where the Cons strapped him down and brought over a slowly dripping beaker of acid.”Why is there a torture room in a comm tower?” was the one of the few thoughts in his head as he could feel the acid drip down melting through his cranial structure centimeter by centimeter. He couldn't help but scream. ……………………………………………………….. In the other tower the rest of the squad was mulling over what the Con called Lobsidier said. Boompower swung around after staring out the window, “We should be rescuing them Delta, not just sitting here.” “You bring up a good point Boom, but we don't know if he was bluffing. There's the chance we could go in and our teammates are dead or there's a chance he was serious,” rubbing his mouthplate unconsciously, “what do you think?” pointing at one of their prisoners. “I don't know anything about rescuing people, but I'll help you if you let me go.” Replying with hope in his voice. “I atleast know my way around this tower so it should be easy to navigate.” Casket walked over to the Con and pulled out his saw, “How do we know you're not lying.”, raising it to his captives face. Hesitantly he pulled up a holographic schematic of the tower showing he wasn't lying. “See, I told you. Now, if I give you this will you let me go?” Casket grabbed it out of his hand before lowering the saw but not moving it away from him, resting it near his torso. “Looks like he's right boss”, telling Delta before turning to the Con, “how did you get this?” “We all got these on our first day here, it's not some giant challenge to get one.” The Con said with a great amount of snarkiness. Boompower walked over to his Conjunx grabbing the schematic to give to his leader. “Well since we have this now let's go get our squadmates.” Boompower shouted with elation, ready to go. Delta's optics scanned the schematic trying to find the most optimal location for him and his soldiers to rescue the rest of their squad. “Let's call in some reinforcements and we'll try to take it by entering through the vehicle bay.” The Decepticon was finally let go by Casket but the Autobot kept his gun trained on him. “I don't really think that's the best way bot, I would radio for more guys, which is obviously what you should do, but the vehicle bay has no tactical advantage if your going to take control of the tower. I recommend going in through the top of the tower and moving down from there but I don't know how you’d get up there. Maybe get someone to fly you up there…” lingering before covering his mouth “*cough*me*cough*.” Keeping the snarky tone from before. Casket raised the sights of his syringe blaster to his optic, “One more snarky comment and your losing your head. Ok? Primus sake.” He muttered under his breath. “Alright, we’ll call in reinforcements and get uuummm, what's your name?” “Thunderstrike.” “Ok, Thunderstrike to fly us up to the top and take the tower that way.” ……………………………………………………….. “Frag you cons!!! Let us out!!!” Flameflash screamed to the torturers. “I’d rather not. I was told to do this and I listen to my boss. Also, this is quite fun for me. It lets me get out all my rage.” ........ And that's all I ever did. If (anyone reads this) you like this or hate it tell me your thoughts. Be as harsh as possible.

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[alterrune]

Operations Hounds Slumber

Mission 5 of 6

Location: London

Info: We sent in a team of scouts to spy on The Blackjacks End of Watch squadron, but they were all captured. They are currently being imprisoned in a safehouse located in the forests of London. Your objective is to break inside and extract the team. You’ll also have to extract some data from their server room for some more info.

Complications:

15 Minutes: The Blackjacks plan on executing the hostages, be fast.

Cloaked Enemies: All hostile operatives in the safehouse are wearing camo tech, so all hostiles will be invisible.

Armor Piercing: The enemy loaded their guns with armor piercing rounds. So all damage you take will ignore armor and damage you all together.

Clean House: All Hostiles in the area must be eliminated.

Achievement for completion:

Royal Flush

CHAPTER 2, ACT 10: DALMATIAN DAMNATION

(Once again, I, along with the rest of the CSB [and Laurence], are currently in Charles' helicopter...but this time, Alter's pet, Damien, has also joined the mission! Laurence gets his flipchart out, ready for him and Charles to brief us on the plan once again.)

Alright, guys, here's the plan: Since the enemies will be invisible, we need something to help make sure we don't get ambushed.

That's where Damien comes in. Alter's little pupper here will sniff out any hostiles, and will seriously wound them and pin them down so we can finish them off.

Now then, are we ready? Good. Let's do this!

(We hop out of the plane, and Damien runs through the doors and immediately takes out two guards, which we immediately headshot as soon as we can. We repeat this proceess until we reach the hostages, where we free them, then remotely teleport them back to base. Alter then tells Damien to "go feral", and the dalmatian LACERATES all the remaining forces until the house is completely clean.)

Great work, guys. Let's head back to base.

Yeah, definitely. Damien, you're getting a special treat when we get back for such a good job.

(Damien then wags his tail in excitement as we are all teleported back to the base.)

CHAPTER 2, ACT 10 COMPLETE!

ACHIEVEMENT UNLOCKED: Royal Flush

DISPLAYING ACT EPILOUGE...

(Nick and Justin are heading into the building, and facepalm when they see the damage.)

Can't say I'm suprised at this anymore...

(sigh...) Why can't these guys just be more competent?

Wait...is that a dalmatian?

It is! Why is there one just standing at the end of the hallway like that?

(The two run up to the dalmatian, which is holding a sealed envelope in its' mouth. They take it out, open the envelope, and read the note inside...)

------

Hello again, you two! You may be wondering why a dalmatian is delivering this note to you. Well, this is Damien, Alter's pet dalmation. He's been trained to attack any enemy forces on sight. And that includes you two. Take my advice: Don't try to run away or harm the doggo. You're fucked either way.

- Kyle Gibbons ✍🏼

------

(They lower the note and see Damien is growling at them.)

Oh crap. RUN!

(The two try to run for the doors, but they magnetically seal behind them, trapping them with Damien. The dalmatian lunges at them, scratching and biting then repeatedly until they both fall to the ground, completely immobilzed in pain. Damien is then teleported back to the GEOGRAM base, having done his job.)

God...damn...it. We...we fell for that...hook, line, and sinker.

At least...ugh...we'll be able to patch ourselves up...for the next time we see him.

In the meantime...let's go see the patcher-upper, Nick...goddamnit, everything hurts...

END OF ACT EPILOUGE