#ch: misfire

[sl-newsie]

American Woman (Thomas Shelby x American OC) Ch. 53: Gambling Lives

Masterlist: https://www.tumblr.com/sl-newsie/739551758747090944/american-woman-thomas-shelby-x-american-oc?source=share

As dreary as this hospital might appear at first, it’s a freaking miracle compared to the gossipy office. As I strut down the hall I make a mental note to tell Thomas that I will no longer be submitting myself to working there. I am going to do as my job entails and make foreign business trips. If only this bloody vendetta could get cleared up! Not that anyone would tell me right away if anything’s changed.

“Hello, Michael,” I greet and shut the door. “Still sore?”

The young man waves from where he’s sitting at the table, reviewing records. “I feel better but they’re making me stay longer to be sure. Mum’s work, I imagine. How’s Tommy?”

The recollection of today’s planned luncheon draws out more dark thoughts. “In a bit of a pickle. Right now they’re-”

The door opens again and a nurse pokes her head in. She heads for Michael’s satchel.

Michael’s brow furrows and reaches to stop her. “What are you doing-?”

The nurse shoves him to the floor and in a split second I see the reason why: Michael’s gun. She wants to disarm him! I lunge to block her but she whacks me over the head with a medicine tray. In a dizzy state I look up see a sharp-dressed man in a fedora waiting outside.

Bam!

Who’s shot?! Michael’s not. I’m not. Then- The man from earlier is lying dead on the floor. Who shot the gunman? 

“Michael!” I gasp, holding my head and spitting out some blood as I crawl over to help him to his bed.

A new man stands guard by the door, while another one examines us with shifty eyes. It’s no secret that he’s part of the cause that wants us dead. Dark hair, olive skin, pointed nose, spiffy gray suit, black overcoat and fedora, a match in his mouth. Everything about him screams Italian- 

“Uh uh uh,” he tsks as he points to the hat lying on Michael’s cot. “Where I’m from, a hat on the bed… Unlucky. My family… Say it brings death.”

He moves closer and all I can think of is how quickly I might be able to retrieve my pistol before he can.

“Maybe that’s what happened,” the man murmurs, staring straight at Michael. “Last time my men were sent to you, you got lucky.” 

The memory of John sends anger pulsing through me. That son-of-a-! If I can just reach my- Oh God!

He pulls a pistol from his coat pocket and presses the barrel to Michael’s forehead. Thump! Thump! Thump! Oh God, how is this happening?! What can I-?

“Now… Your luck’s run out.�� He cocks the gun and gives me a side glance. “Try anything and your brains will paint the wall too.”

Michael squeezes his eyes closed. “It’s over…”

This can’t be right!

Click.

Was that a misfire? The gun clicks, but no bullet is fired. The gangster slowly lowers the gun down Michael’s nose and away from his face. Michael, having just escaped death again, stands frozen in shock while the man backs out with an expressionless face.

“And tell your mother we have a deal,” he concludes before exiting along with his counterpart.

Deal? He made a deal... If a deal can be made to spare Michael's life then maybe-

“Wait. Wait! Michael, I will be right back.” I sit him down and sprint out to catch up. “Wait!”

The taller gangster goes to reach for his gun but his boss holds up a hand to stop him. He waits for me to reach them and looks me up and down, having an expression that looks much too friendly for someone who almost just committed murder.

“You must be Ms. Steenstra. Glad to finally meet you in person. What can I do for you?”

I swallow my nerves. Get it right. This is for your family. There’s no going back.

“Am I right to assume that I am in the presence of Mr. Luca Changretta?”

The gangster tips his hat. “Indeed you are. But I will not discuss the matter of the Shelbys with you.”

“I understand. I’m not here to ask about that. I’m here to discuss my own family.”

This surprises Changretta. Like I just asked him to forget about a small detail. 

“I’ve heard many things about you, Ms. Steenstra. You have quite the family ties.”

I bring my hands together and lower my head. “Please, Mr. Changretta, please cancel the hit on my family. I swear they have no part in the White Hand. None of us.”

Changretta hums. “Then how do you explain Edmond Colon?”

“He is family. But us Steenstras in America are not connected to his mob business.” I harness the courage to look up at him directly with my own determined glare. “I know you are proud of your heritage, as am I. Please just let my father run his brewery in peace.”

The gangster doesn’t answer. He, like Thomas, merely looks me over expecting me to demand more. When I don’t he looks down to play with a ring on his finger. A family ring, no doubt.

“When you first came here, did these Brits harass you because of our part in the war?”

I shake my head. “No. If they would have tried then I would’ve given them a piece of my mind.”

Changretta smirks and causes the match in his mouth to wave up and down. “You are a remarkable American woman, Ms. Steenstra. If only your Irish relatives weren’t giving us so much trouble. By the way, my condolences for Ragtime Joe Howard.”

The building hatred for this and all mafia business tugs at my heart. “His name was Joseph Howard. He made his choice to be in the mafia. Just like you.”

“And you,” Changretta comments and gestures to me. “Mr. Shelby mentioned you when I spoke with him. Why is an innocent woman like yourself caught up with the Peaky Blinders?”

I think that’s the question we’re all asking. A question I may not even know how to answer.

“Moral obligation. I owe them a debt.”

“I see. Then may I offer that we respect each other’s wishes and walk away. You fulfill your debt and I will lift the hit.” Changretta sees my confusion and explains further. “Meaning I will lift the hit on your family. But my arrangement with Mrs. Gray will continue.” 

His words to Michael ring clear as a bell. “What arrangement?”

“That is between Mrs. Gray and me,” Changretta says before tipping his hat in parting and following his partner to the back door. “Ciao.”

Did that just happen? Did I just single-handedly negotiate my family out of a vendetta? Thank God! I just had my first encounter with an Italian mob leader and no one died! There’s still the matter of Polly’s arrangement. But that can wait for now. What I know now is that I can sleep at night knowing my family is safe!

“Michael!” I gasp and rush back to his room. “Are you alright?”

He blankly looks between me and the floor. “What just happened?”

Thud! The door bursts open, letting in Thomas, Arthur, and Finn. They scan the room for threats, as well as examine the fresh corpse outside. 

“Michael! What happened, eh?” Thomas pants and looks anxiously between us.

“They heard you coming,” Michael says softly. “The gun misfired. They ran away.”

I frown at his explanation. Why is he lying? At the mention of the intruders, two Blinders race out the door and Thomas interrogates us further.

“You alright?” Thomas kneels next to me and feels me up and down, looking for any wounds.

“I’m fine, I’m fine,” I assure him.

Do not think about how warm his hands are, Verena. Do not! Should I tell him about what just happened?

“Verena!” Finn cries and pulls me into a hug. “Thank God you’re safe.”

“I don’t know where they’re going-”

“Mr. Gold will take care of ‘em,” Thomas says, his eyes never leaving me. Almost like he's afraid I'll disappear. “I have to make a call. Stay with Michael, Verena.”

For the next hour I stay cooped up in the hospital room with Blinders guarding from all sides. I appreciate the gesture for safety, but… I’m in the clear. It feels so relieving! Should I tell someone? It’s not like Michael told the entire truth either.

“Why didn’t you tell them?” I ask him once Arthur and Finn leave.

“Why didn’t you?” Michael reasons back. “What did you do, Verena?”

“I- I… I made sure my family is safe.”

“And what does that mean?” A new voice asks. It’s Polly. Wonderful! Now we can figure out what this ‘deal’ is.

“I convinced Mr. Changretta that my family has no part in this. He believed me.”

The Gypsy woman lights a cigarette and smiles at me. “You have a gift, love. You know how to negotiate with even the most stubborn men.”

Michael clears his throat. “He spared me. He said ���tell your mum that we have a deal.’ What deal, mum?”

Yes. We’re all dying to know.

Polly takes another puff. “A deal to spare your life.”

Michael is not at ease, and neither am I. “In return for what?”

“Men don’t have the strategic intelligence to conduct war between families. You saw this yourself, Verena. Men are less good at keeping secrets out of their lives.”

Michael puts something together. “You agreed to give up Tommy? To save my life?”

“You did what?” I bark and stand up to face her.

Polly keeps calm. “Tommy’s different. The rest need to be spared.”

“A life is still a life, Polly Gray! Family is family! We do not pick and choose family.” 

“You never forgave him, did you?” Michael asks darkly.

Polly leans in closer. “We’re out of our league.”

Michael shakes his head. “No. Verena’s right. We don’t do that to our own.”

“Think,” Polly urges. “If it wasn’t for me you’d be smoke blowing out of a mortuary chimney.” She looks at me. “And your family might have still been at risk.”

My eyes narrow. “I don’t need your help. I handled my family’s dilemma all on my own. And I did it without harming anyone.”

“What’s to stop us from telling him?” Michael asks openly. Yeah! What will stop us?

Polly points a finger at both of us. “You’ll do no such thing, Michael. You too, Verena. This is my business.”

Smack! I suck in my tongue and pivot to walk out the door. First Thomas keeps secrets, now Polly too? The Hell with this! Maybe it’s the confidence from my meeting with Changretta but I might have my own ace up my sleeve.

I reach the phone and pick up the receiver. “Hello. This call is to be kept confidential. May I please be put through to Edmond Colon, Blood Stoney Road?”

“One moment, please.”

A few more clicks and I hear a familiar laugh. “Hello, Uncle Colon. It’s Verena. I need to ask a favor.”

Time to take matters into my own hands. It’s time for some American reinforcement.

@meadows5

[crazycurly-77]

The submarine -

Ch 2

Director Shepard looked at you seriously and said: “We have a problem.”

You didn't know what it was about and wondered whether you should even respond to her statement. But Gibbs made the decision for you and asked with his usual self-assurance: “What's up?”

“The SECNAV is pressing for an explanation as to why the new software for launching guided missiles from submarines is apparently not working, even though the tests so far have been successful. All missiles are missing their target or misfiring.”

You could only shrug your shoulders. “I’ve no idea why this is happening. Everything has been going correctly so far, but according to the protocols, someone is sabotaging the tests just before they are carried out. It is so short notice that it must be an insider who knows the exact time and can hack the program. He must be on board the submarine being tested on, because he logs into the system from there. But we don't know who or why, and we can't find out from here either."

That let Director Shepard sink in for a moment. Then she nodded and said: "Good, then you'll be boarded on the submarine."

Her words made cold sweat break out on your forehead and sheer horror was written all over your face.

"No. I'm not going on a submarine. Never. Forget it. Under no circumstances," you said vehemently and shook your head.

"But the program obviously has a malfunction that needs to be fixed, and McGee gets seasick at the sight of a glass of water. You wrote it with McGee's help. He can't. So you have to go on the boat and clarify the matter," argued Ma'am Director Jenny Shepard, trying to appeal to your reason.

Yes, her logic was compelling, but your claustrophobia was stronger.

You were on the verge of a panic attack and your hair stood on end as you stood in front of her desk, shaking your head the whole time. Slowly you started to take small steps backwards and started to shake.

Gibbs sensed that you were panicking and he suspected that he knew the reason for it and decided to help you.

You had a good relationship with each other. Even if he didn't like that he couldn't reach you.

He was more worried about you than the others.

Why? He had never asked himself that. It was just like that.

Then you felt it. Your boss Leroy Jethro Gibbs, who stood next to you like a rock in the surf, took your hand to calm you down.

He stood there by your side. He didn't move an inch, didn't sway in the slightest and you held his hand as if your life depended on it.

"There is no one with your knowledge of this system. Please, you have to go,” Jenny finally begged you.

“No. Absolutely not. I can’t do that,” you said firmly. Your brain shut down and your body prepared to flee. Everything in you resisted and only one word dominated your thoughts: “No. No! NO!!!”

“Okay, then I’ll make it an order. You will leave in an hour,” the director finally decided in a final tone that said the conversation was over for her.

Your blood froze in panic and your body went stiff.

“Then please shoot me. That’s much more merciful than forcing me to do it,” you said, staring into her eyes.

At this point in the conversation, Gibbs spoke up in a firm tone:

“No, we won’t do that. But to strengthen your position on board and give you the support of a male colleague, I’m coming with you. I don’t want to leave you alone and unprotected, surrounded only by men. We can also find out together who the saboteur is," he explained, but left no room for argument.

She briefly looked at your joined hands with interest and then looked up at you two. 

"Good, let's do it," the director concluded. "You two go home and pack your things. Your flight leaves in an hour. You can go now."

With that, she turned to her computer and Jethro tried to pull you towards the door. At first you were rooted to the spot, but then he pulled firmly on your hand, which he was still holding, so that you followed him out of the room.

He closed the door to Jenny's office, wrapped his arms around you, rubbed your back up and down and whispered calming words in your ear.

Panicked and still shaking, you clung to him.

"It's okay. I'm here and I won't let you down," he whispered.

"Just breathe. In and out. In and out. Breathe with me. In and out," he said.

You did what he told you and your shaking slowly subsided.

(To be continued...in Chapter 3)

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Here you will find the other chapters of this story and the other stories I've written to date.

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Tags: @ilovemark1951, @hobby27

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[bigasswritingmagnet]

Blood Will Out ch 1/30: Catalysis

Summary: When Agatha Sannikova learns she is, in fact, Agatha Heterodyne, she inadvertently kicks off a series of events that reopens old wounds, drags secrets into the light, and brings war to the doorstep of the all but defenseless Mechanicsburg. Saturnus struggles to crush his enemies with a town almost as broken as his body; Agatha, determined to undo the chaos she's unleashed, plunges into the depths of Castle Heterodyne.

Raised by a literal saint and the devil incarnate, Agatha - with an unleashed mind, a burning spark, and a band of very unexpected allies - will fight to do the unthinkable: be a good Heterodyne and a good person.

[The long awaited (by me) sequel to Relatively Speaking, This Will Probably be Fine and NOT a prequel to Helpful, in a Heterodyne Sort of Way, due to plot reasons.]

AO3 link | Next >

The Heterodyne Valley was peaceful in the night. If one did not know its history, it would be easy to think of it as an oasis of fertile farmland and forest amidst the hardscrabble farms clinging to the unforgiving rock on the other side of the mountains. Cupped by the gentle hands of the valley, Mechanicsburg sat still and quiet in the darkness. 

At an hour so late it was early, when the bars had closed but the bakers had not woken, Mechanicsburg was visible only as winding rivers of dim lamp light twining through pools of darkness. As they moved away from the tourist attractions and towards the Tumbles, the rivers split into tributaries: smaller streets lined with houses and more reasonably priced shops. One such shop was Muller’s Miscellaneous, where machinists could buy parts and sell scrap. 

To the left of the building was a dingy alleyway. During the day it was used to haul materials and merchandise in and out. This late at night, the only occupants were a two-headed rat and the frantic tabby cat it was chasing. The alley led around to the back of the shop, providing access to the door and window. 

The door was locked tight. The window was open. Fresh scratches marred the wood around the latch, which now hung slightly loose, forced out of place by a hand unused to breaking, let alone entering. Through the open window was the storeroom. It was filled with stacked metal sheets of varying compositions and sizes, buckets of gears, boxes of screws and nails, Gordian knots of copper wires. In the very center of it all, surrounded by a mandala of half-built parts and materials…

…was a girl.

She was approximately fifteen, splayed legs showing the gangliness of an unfinished teenage growth spurt, her long blonde hair breaking free of its ponytail to press sweaty strands against her ashen cheeks. Behind thick round glasses, her eyes were glazed. Her mouth hung open as she panted for air, unable to breathe past the blood that trickled from her nose.

Agatha’s headaches were usually like a vice or a bear trap, a sharp pressure that faded quickly when she let it drive her away from whatever had brought on the attack. But she had not let it drive her away this time, and after an hour, it had become spikes of white hot metal in her brain, pulsing with her heartbeat.

She had never been in so much pain in her life.

She did not let it stop her.

Agatha had been trying to build this for five years, and for five years she had been driven to tears of frustration as the pain chased her away. But not this time.

She wasn’t sure what had made that specific headache different, why this time the pain had filled her with a spiteful, stubborn contrariness, but it had. Agatha had decided she was far too old – almost an adult, as far as she was concerned – to allow her own misfiring neurons to hold her back. She was sick of it. Sick of the feeling of things being just out of reach, sick of knowing she could do things and not being able to.

Sick of failure.

‘I’m impressed at your recovery,’ Doctor Sun had said, the immovable calm to Saturnus’ unstoppable stubborn indignation. ‘But the damage is not all from your heart or the muscle atrophy.” 

In a strange way, though, it had gotten easier to think. The constant, endless agony was so consistent, she could almost let it fade into background noise.

Agatha’s trembling fingers hovered over a pile of neatly sorted screws, trying to remember what she’d been doing. Right. The joints in the legs. She tried to imagine the chair climbing up the stairs that connected to the road outside the bakery.

‘No, you can’t just give yourself a new pair of legs. The problem is in your brain. The part of it that connects with the muscles is damaged, and that is not something I can repair – and neither can you.’

He kept trying, though. The memory of Saturnus on the floor, face covered in blood from hitting the nightstand on the way down, haunted her still.

Like a spider. Second and fourth sets would operate as counterbalances – hold it steady while the first set reached and the third set pushed forward. Carefully she checked her blood-spattered notes, reminding herself of what kind of joint she was trying to build. What did it look like again?

‘A chair? Oh yes, being pushed around by some minder, that sounds perfect, letting the whole world know I can’t even turn a wheel with my own strength. I leave this house on working legs or in a box!’

A chair that could walk and climb, propelled by clockwork. The idea had flown in on wings of pain.

Blatantly evil Lord Saturnus may be, but Agatha loved him dearly, just as much as she did the virtuous Teodora. In her head, Grandfather came as easily as Lord Saturnus – easier, even . Grandm — Teodora was a bulwark against the world, protector and defender, and within the stronghold of her home, there was Saturnus to understand.

He never told her she wasn’t broken, or that there was nothing wrong with her. Neither did he let her succumb to self-loathing. Broken is not the same as useless. Though she was just some orphan that a friend of his estranged son had dumped on him, he loved her like flesh and blood.

It was getting hard to see. White light was chewing at the edges of her vision, and she had to squint to see past the colored halos dancing in front of her. She hadn’t even turned anything on yet, but she was sure she smelled something burning. 

Hands clamped down on her shoulders, and the screws tumbled from her fingers. She had to blink several times to focus on the face in front of her, and it took another few seconds to recognize Herr Müller, whose shop she had chosen to…patronize.

“Miss Sannikova!” He was shouting, but he wasn’t angry – he looked scared, actually. Perhaps he was just making sure he could hear her. His voice was so far away from her ears. “Agatha!”

“I can pay for the pieces,” she said, and heard only a strange gurgling sound. “I wasn’t sure how many I’d need so I thought I would pay for what I used, after.”

“Get a doctor!” Müller bellowed over his shoulder. “Agatha, can you hear me?”

His mouth kept moving but the pain in her head was audible now, roaring in her ears, making it impossible to even hear herself think. She began to hum, a cracked and broken sound that had no melody.  

Saturnus, seated in the hated wheelchair beside the hospital bed of the girl who did not know she was his granddaughter, found himself distracted by the thought of what an excellent tableau they all made. Agatha lying between them, drawn and pale. On either side, her grandparents, perfect visual and moral opposites.  

Saturnus had been an intimidating figure, once upon a time, built in size and shape much like a particularly clean-shaven bear. Even when middle age had come to call, thinning his copper hair and softening his middle, he had maintained his strength. 

Not any more. Not ever again, as a point of fact. Spending just under a decade half-dead and immobile, bedridden and insensate, took its toll. Even after Agatha had drawn him back into the waking world, even with wife and granddaughter ensuring he stuck with the tortures Sun had the nerve to call ‘physical therapy’, he’d never regain more than a fraction of his old strength. He was an old man now, and he looked every inch of it, right down to sitting in a wheelchair with a blanket over the useless sticks of his legs.  

In contrast, his wife, whom time had touched with a much gentler hand. 

Teodora Vodenicharova was tall and slender, with bright brown eyes and a long, elegant face. Their frantic race to get dressed and to the hospital had not left her time to put herself together in her usual impeccable appearance. Her long gray hair was still in a braid, not wound up in its usual complex bun, and her dress did not match the sash around her waist.     

Despite all her time in Mechanicsburg, she maintained the fashions of her homeland, and wore simple dresses of muted colors, given shape by embroidered sashes and brightened by flashes of color at the hems and buttons. It rankled Saturnus that she dressed like a peasant, and often he wished she would let him deck her in the jewels and finery befitting the Lady of Mechanicsburg.

Not that she required fine clothing to be distinguished from the common folk. Even now as she stood braced for the explosion of fury and outrage she knew would be coming, she held herself tall and proud, regal as any queen, just as always.   

Saturnus turned his head away from her, and his gaze fell on Agatha’s locket on the bedside table, wound up in its chain. Saturnus reached out and picked it up, but did not open it. He could feel the effect of the locket, but he was a grown man and a strong Spark, so it was nothing but a faint tingling in the base of his skull. Nothing he could not ignore. He doubted he would even notice if he didn’t know it would be there. 

“How did you ever manage it?” he asked, turning the locket over in his hands. “All those years, watching her suffer, listening to her talk about herself like that? Knowing what it was. Knowing you could stop it.”

Teodora said nothing. He laughed briefly, soft and humorless.

“Funny. I’m pretty sure I was meant to be the evil one in this relationship.”

He heard Teodora’s sharp inhale. In a few quick strides she rounded the bed to stand beside him. When she spoke, it was with a rage that trembled with the effort of keeping quiet.

“Is that supposed to wound me? As if your good opinion was ever anything but a curse? As if I never prayed that you would grow bored and send me away again? Don’t you dare fool yourself into thinking that my heart has gone soft with time, Lord Heterodyne.”

But all he did was let out a soft, amused hum, and give her a condescending smile.

“So that’s it, then. The great, noble Teodora Vodenicharova played dutiful wife by her husband’s side, not for love, not for duty…but because you enjoyed seeing me brought low. Seems you fit into this family quite well.”

“How dare you—!” Teodora, white with rage, actually tried to slap him. He caught her arm easily and dragged her in, meeting her furious glare with his own hard, cold stare. 

“You certainly seem wounded by my poor opinion,” he said.

“That is not why I did it, and this has nothing to do with you. I did what I thought was necessary,” Teodora hissed, her voice hoarse. “I did what I thought was best to keep. Her. Safe.”

“And if I think this is a cruel and terrible thing, what does that say about you?” He released her and sat back in the wheelchair. He’d consented to it only to get to the Great Hospital to see Agatha, far too terrified to even feel the sting to his pride.

“Barry said she started breaking through when she was five— ”

“If he’d done it to anyone but flesh and blood,” Saturnus interrupted. “I’d be downright proud of him.”

Saturnus saw the words hit Teodora, saw her flinch, and bore down.

“But as it is, I am having trouble understanding why you were willing to go along with your son putting our granddaughter’s mind on a choke-chain leash without having the decency to tell her WHY!”    

For the first time in all their years of marriage, Teodora took a step back – but Teodora was Teodora. She had stood up to the Lord of Mechanicsburg, again and again and again, and had not just lived but won. Teodora was kind and gentle and would come down like a hammer on any threat to those she loved as fiercely as any Heterodyne. When Saturnus had declared her sons ruined, told her that he planned to kill them and start over, Teodora had stopped him. Not just stopped him, forced him to stand down, forced him to hand his beloved town to his “ruined” son, permanently, and let him rule and ruin as he pleased. 

And Saturnus loved her still, with all his heart.   

“What would you have done, in his place?” she challenged. “You think a five-year-old has the capability of understanding such an abstract danger? She would have had that thing off in seconds. Even now, I don’t think she’s old enough. She’ll get frustrated or want the pain to stop—”

“She thinks she is broken!”

“We cannot keep her safe.”

The words were like a hammer blow.

“Those headaches are half the reason no one thinks she could possibly be who she is!” Teodora said. “If anyone ever so much as doubted that? They would come for her, and there is no guarantee this town could protect her. Your pride was nearly the death of you, but I will not let you put her in mortal danger simply because you don’t want to admit that you are not the man you were, and this town cannot do what it is meant to do.” 

“She—”

“Am I wrong?”

“She needs—”

“Am. I. Wrong.” 

Saturnus couldn’t look at her. Yes, he was furious on Agatha’s behalf. Yes, it was a horrific thing to do to a girl, to keep doing to her. But it was no small part of him that did not want to admit that this device was better protection than he could provide. That this pain might be the best thing they could do for her.

He could not protect his grandchild.

Again.

Agatha stirred, her eyelids fluttering open. Her brow furrowed.

“Ow,” she whispered. Her gaze fell on Saturnus and Teodora. Her hazy expression grew puzzled. She looked around at the hospital room, and down at herself, and realized where she was. “Am I in trouble?”

“No,” Teodora said gently, reaching out and squeezing her hand. “No, darling, you’re not in trouble.”

“Important life lesson,” Saturnus said, attempting to sound jovial. “If you scare everyone badly enough, you can get away with anything.”

“Saturnus,” Teodora scolded, but Agatha giggled weakly. Her smile faded when Saturnus reached out and stroked her hair.

“What the hell were you doing?” he asked, gently.

“I was building you a chair,” she said softly. “Something you wouldn’t have to push. I thought maybe if you didn’t need help, you wouldn’t mind being seen in it. But every time I tried to build it, I got the headache and I just…”

Her eyes filled with tears.

“I was just so tired of being broken.” She began to cry, and Saturnus felt his heart break in ways he didn’t know it could. He took Agatha’s hand in both of his, squeezing tightly.

“Don’t do it again,” he said, nearly begging. “Broken or not, yours is a marvelous mind, and I would not have you cauterize it for anything – but especially not for me.”

“I wanted to help .”

“I know, I know. Here. When you’re well enough to leave, we’ll go back home and build it together. And go nice and slow, so neither of our bodies has reason to try and kill us, hmm?”

Her smile was weak, and he knew it wouldn’t be satisfying. She was a teenager, a Spark, a Heterodyne , and Saturnus knew that there was no feeling like watching your first big project cut a swath of destruction across the land and being able to think I did that, all on my own.  

“Oh,” Agatha said. “You’ve got my locket.”

She reached for it, but Saturnus pulled away.

“No jewelry in the hospital,” he lied. “Put it on when you go home.”

“The doctor wants to keep you overnight, just in case,” Teodora said, putting a gentle hand on Agatha’s knee. “We’ll see how you feel in the morning.”

Agatha nodded and closed her eyes. Neither Saturnus or Teodora spoke until Agatha’s breathing was the slow, steady rhythm of sleep.

“You didn’t tell her,” Teodora said, not voicing the question. 

“I thought it would be best to wait ‘til we get home. The locket, her parents – when we tell her, she’ll be angry, and I’d rather she not shout at us where half of Mechanicsburg could hear.”

“We’re not telling her.”

“Like hell we’re not—”

“ No. She’s too young, and she’s a terrible liar.”

“After all that, you still want her to wear it,” Saturnus said, amazed. “After what we just saw, what she just said, you still —”

“Do you think I’m enjoying this?” Teodora demanded. “I hate this just as much as you do, but we do not have a choice, Saturnus.”

“If you don’t tell her, I will.”

“No. You won’t.”

“And how exactly will you stop me? Kill me?”

The expression on Teodora’s face was very like the one she’d worn the day she’d told him he would not be killing their sons. When she spoke, her voice was ice and steel.

“I do not need to kill you.”

Saturnus tried to glare at her, but it was like trying to stare down the sun. And still, he loved her. More, really. When she got like this, he couldn’t help but think if she’d been a little less compassionate, she could have rivaled the Skull Queen herself.

He looked away.

“I can’t do it again,” Teodora said, in a much gentler voice. “I can’t. Klaus Barry was bad enough – for both of us. I won’t lose another grandchild.”

Agatha inhaled sharply, and they both froze. But she simply sighed in her sleep and rolled over.

They watched over her in silence until visiting hours ended, both too lost in their own thoughts, feeling no less trapped and miserable for worries shared.

They did not speak again until the next morning, when a breathless, terrified nurse appeared at their door to tell them that Agatha was gone.

[altraviolet]

if it's not too much trouble, may i ask you for a full list of your personal favourite moments in the echo garden?

hi anon!

this is a very fun ask. unfortunately a full list would take a really long time to compile. if I chose only 2 lines from each chapter, that'd be over 100 data points

I went through the first 6 chapters and picked out a few fav moments from each :)

Ch 1

The sun was setting for the thousand-thousandth time in the shadowzone.

/

“That's fuckin' creepy!” shouted Rodimus. “I come in peace, goddammit!” He reared back and punched Soundwave in the face.

Ch 2

TD3 (Trans-Dimensional Disorientation Disease, or “the sideways molecules are fuckin' you up,” as Whirl liked to call it)

/

With a slight bow, Soundwave asked in his own true, cascading voice, “Lord Megatron, what is your command?”

The entire bridge went silent. Every mech stopped what they were doing, swiveled, and stared at him. Megatron looked faintly horrified.

Ch 3

“Laserbeak is important,” said Soundwave. He signaled the drone to return to its place. “But not sentient.”

/

Megatron pinched the bridge of his nose again.

the signal!

Ch 4

Soundwave predicted Drift's next murder spree would be even more devastating.

/

Soundwave lifted Aquafend and bashed him against the far wall. Aquafend fell to the floor with a groan. His lights blinked out. The gun clattered beside him.

“Thank you! Your entry key code has been reset.”

Soundwave picked the gun up with his tentacles. He tilted it back and forth, studying it. He ducked into his new room.

/

The Nemesis had been his finely crafted tool.

Now he was in need of a new one.

/

Warning, Shots! Mixing Drinks For a Bar With No Guns ; Swerve

Ch 5

As they neared the bridge, more mechs jumped and dodged out of their way. Bluestreak, Jackpot, and Whirl, who had been talking, parted hastily. No one wanted to be in the way of an Ultra Magnus on a mission.

/

“Why are you making this so hard?”

Soundwave displayed a smilie face with its tongue sticking out on his visor.

/

“Affirmative. Where is Spinister? Where is Misfire?”

Ambulon's biolights flashed. His field flared with shock. He stared in slack-jawed disbelief as Soundwave listed off names.

“-and Nickel?”

“How do you know about them?!” cried Ambulon. “You've been here less than a day!”

“Soundwave: superior.”

Ch 6

“Hey, WOW,” said the voice from beneath the bar. Swerve popped up into view, holding a tray. He pointed at Soundwave. “You are freaky up close.”

/

“Whoa, whoa, whoa. Didn't you see the sign?”

Soundwave looked up. There was a sign that read: No Guns, No Swords, No Briefcases, and below that, scrawled hastily in marker, No Tentacles.

/

“Mathematics hasn't earned my respect,” said Brainstorm. “We just need a power source strong enough to force reality to bend to our will!”

---

I know that's not what you're looking for, but I'm afraid that's all I have the energy for tonight. thanks again for the ask! 💎💞

[levi-venn]

The First Toothpick

Chapter Four: A Little Juicy Gossip

Gen Fic - Mentor/Protege

Summary: Cad Bane teaches Crosshair how to be a sniper. The kid picks up some other habits as a result.

Chapter Summary: Crosshair meets Todo 360 who does not know how to keep a secret.

Chapters: Ch 1 | Ch 2 | Ch 3 | Ch 4 | Ch 5 | Ch 6 | Ch7 | Ch8 | Ch9 |

Available also on AO3

“Great callouts, Hunter! You’re a natural leader. Wrecker, we’re gonna need stronger droids to handle your strength. Tech, you sliced those panels in record time! Now let's see," The lieutenant looked at his datapad, scrolling through the rest of the data. 

Crosshair waited for his turn.

The lieutenant kept scrolling, frown deepening.

A brotherly hand squeezed Crosshair's shoulder. He pushed it away. He didn’t need comfort. He needed feedback.

“Alright, pack it up, soldiers,” the lieutenant said, tucking his datapad away. “The final test of the quarter is tomorrow.” 

“Hey, wait,” Hunter said. “What about-”

Crosshair's elbow found Hunter's ribs, chasing the question away.

“Is there a problem, soldier?” The lieutenant asked, raising an imperious brow.

Hunter clutched his side. “No, sir.”

The lieutenant left.

Crosshair would have left too if not for his brothers surrounding him, blocking his escape. 

“You did great , Crosshair,” Hunter insisted. 

“You hit every single mark flawlessly,” Tech observed.

“Yeah! You’re wizard!” Wrecker shouted.

Molten anger heated Crosshair's cheeks. “It doesn’t matter what you think,” he hissed. “The lieutenant’s opinion is all that matters. They are going to retire me.”

“I won’t let that happen,” Hunter said.

“It’s not up to you, Hunter,” Crosshair said. 

“Bugger this,” Hunter sighed and grabbed Crosshair’s wrist, tugging him towards a nearby ventilation grate. "Recon time. C’mon.”

Crosshair thought about kicking him, but...the recon may prove useful.

“Aww, recon?! I wanna come, too!” Wrecker whined.

“This mission requires more stealth than you are trained to handle, Wrecker” Tech indicated. “Also your size would break the air vent.”

“Hehe, yeah, I’m a real tank,” Wrecker grinned, proudly.

Hunter hoisted Crosshair up into the air ventilation tunnel before leaping up behind him.  The tunnel ran in a dozen different directions like a many-armed rapthar, each path identical to the next. Hunter always knew instinctively where to go. It didn’t take long before they found the vent overlooking the lieutenant’s office.

There was another clone in the office with him. 

No...not a clone...

“Is that Fett?” Hunter whispered. “Last time Fett was here, they took Radar away.”

“I know,” Crosshair snarled quietly.

“Oh yeah,” the Lieutenant snickered below, taking his seat at his desk. “He's the best in the facility.” 

“Cut the sarcasm, Pynk,” Fett leaned against the wall, arms folded across his chest. “We need a sniper in this squad.” 

“Don’t get me wrong, he’s a good sniper, but we train good snipers every day. This squad needs someone extraordinary and he isn’t. It’ll save a lot of time and energy to just retire him and pick up a normal sniper for the team.”

A normal sniper…

Crosshair had heard enough. He shoved Hunter down the tunnel and followed him, angrily wiping his blurry, wet eyes as they went.

“Are they gonna retire Crosshair?” Wrecker whispered loudly to Tech as Crosshair climbed out of the vent.

“They will have to retire me first,” Tech said, adjusting his goggles, not bothering to lower his voice. “I won’t let them take him.”

“Yeah,” Wrecker slammed his fists together, “me neither.”

He ignored them both. He made a point to ignore them both. They were all idiots, thinking they could change anything by just wishing it wouldn't happen.

And Crosshair was an idiot for daring to think he could be extraordinary.

The next day, Crosshair earned the nickname “Misfire.”

Not long after that the bounty hunter, Cad Bane, took him away.

***

Crosshair couldn’t sleep.

The room was too quiet without Wrecker’s chest-rattling snores, too dark without the faint glow of Tech coding on his datapad, and even though Hunter was practically a ghost at night even when awake, Crosshair missed him, too.

Facing the fact sleep wasn’t going to find him, Crosshair slung his rifle over his shoulder, tip-toed down the hall past Bane's room, slid down the bannister, avoiding the creaky stairs altogether, and slipped soundlessly out the front door. The weather-beaten porch was barely held together by whatever rusted nails poked out of the cracked wood. He kept his steps light, but each footfall he could feel the threat of a creak beneath his boots. He leapt over the stairs entirely and landed in the dark soil with little more than a quiet squelch.

The moon was a meager sliver in the sky that didn't do much to illuminate the wheat field, but the way it moved in the wind reminded Crosshair of the black waves of a rarely calm nighttime Kaminoan sea. 

“Goin’ somewhere?”

Crosshair hadn't heard anyone approach. How was this possible? And yet, as he turned, he found that Bane had been sitting in a rocking chair in the darkest corner of the porch, only his red eyes, half-moons obscured by the brim of his hat, could be seen.

Crosshair refused to be rattled. He planted his feet firmly in the soil and and puffed up his narrow chest. “I’m going to scout the perimeter.”

“Got sensors for that, kid” Bane replied. “Ain’t a soul out there except for us n’ the Fabools.”

“Then I’ll go check on the Fabools.”

“You don’t gotta worry about them until tomorrow mornin’. Todo will show ya what to do.”

Crosshair had no response. Wrecker's clumsy question floated in his head.

Are they gonna retire Crosshair?”

He needed to do this. He needed to do...something.

Bane’s head tilted slightly.  “What?”

Crosshair didn’t respond.

I don’t want to be retired. I want to live… at least long enough to fight a real battle with Tech.

Bane let out a strained growled, his spurs jingling as his boots landed heavily on the porch. In the darkness his scarlet eyes cast harsh shadows against his scarred face. 

“You n’ me are gonna get along a lot better if ya stop bein’ so fuckin’ timid. You’re a soldier, right? You’re an elite sniper? You’re a tough guy? Then stop bein’ afraid of everything. I’m bein’ paid to train ya, but I may ask Jango for extra cuz I gotta go lookin' for yer spine first before I can teach ya anything.” Rows of sharp teeth gleamed in the dark. “Start talkin’.”

I want to live.

I want to live.

I want to live.

I-

“I…don’t want to be retired.”

The teeth vanished. The eyes dimmed. Bane leaned forward and into the meager moonlight, confusion etched into his scarred face. “What do ya mean ‘retired’?”

“If soldiers don’t meet their lieutenant’s expectations, they’re retired and their data gets erased. Radar and Pintsize were retired last year. No trace of them anywhere. Like they never existed.” Crosshair scrubbed his sweaty palms against his pant legs. He couldn’t stop talking if he wanted to, like trying to fight momentum down a steep hill. “Radar was redundant. Hunter’s tracking skills were sharper than his. Pintsize could barely hold a blaster with his tremors. The lieutenant said I’m not ‘extraordinary’ like the rest of my squad. I dropped my sniper rifle last test. They started calling me-”

The name seized in his mind. Tech’s magnified eyes glaring at him as if he was somehow holding onto the name. 

“That’s not who you are.”

“Jango knows about this? These retirements?”

Crosshair blinked. “What?”

“The retirements. Are they his decision or not?”

“It’s the lieutenant’s decision.” 

Bane rested his elbows on his knees, his unyielding glare boring into Crosshair. “Who’s this lieutenant? What’s his story?”

“A first generation clone. Lieutenant Pynk,” Crosshair thought about how to describe him. “He’s an asshole.”

Bane snorted. “Yeah, I gathered that much. So when you told me you’re the best in the facility that was his sarcasm I was hearing?” He didn’t wait for an answer. “Well, fuck Pynk. We’ll show him what extraordinary looks like.” he extended his hand. “Gimme your rifle.”

Crosshair tightened the grip on his rifle strap. “Why?”

“Oh yer full of questions now, huh?” Bane sneered. “Official inspection, soldier. Give it here.”

With a small hiss of protest, Crosshair handed the rifle over.

Bane gave the rifle a little spin as if testing the weight. He looked through the scope. He ran his fingers over the stock and gave it a good shake.

“No wonder you can’t razzle and dazzle anyone,” Bane snickered. “This here’s a piece of bantha poodoo .”

“There’s nothing wrong with my rifle.” Crosshair said. “I clean it everyday. I calibrated it this morning. It’s fine.”

“Yeah?” Bane tossed the rifle back to Crosshair. “Prove it.”

Bane stood up, reminding Crosshair just how tall the Duros was compared to him. He was taller than Pynk and somehow that was comforting to know. In one swift movement, Bane hopped over the porch railing and with a crisp snap of his leather duster, he vanished around the side of the house.

Crosshair followed. At first it looked like Bane had simply disappeared, but upon a closer look, the side of the house was covered with a wide wooden trellis far too reinforced to withstand just the weight of creeper vines.  He looked up and saw a brief glimpse of the brim of Bane's hat on the roof. Crosshair slung the rifle over his shoulder and climbed. 

Some of the roof tiles were flatter and smoother than they appeared, leading to an ornamental bell tower half the size of Crosshair and far too small for Bane to fit. Still, Crosshair peeked into the bell tower and found...a short chute leading into a spy holodrama.

It was one part sniper tower, one part high-tech surveillance bowl filled with panels and devices similar to the simulation models Tech ran through to practice slicing communications and monitoring air traffic.

Bane sneered up at him. "C'mon in, kiddo."

“What is this?” Crosshair asked, hoisting himself into the chute and using the short ladder to climb down.

“Crow’s nest, watchtower, sniper tower, reinforced bunker, whatever we need it for. There are a couple of cots under the false floor if we get swarmed and have to lay low for a while.”

“Who would attack us?”

“The local authorities, mercs lookin' to even the score, raiders aimin' to steal the Fabools which can sell for a pretty credit on the black market.” Bane pressed a switch under his seat and the blank wall flipped over to reveal a pair  of LL-30 blaster pistols and a 773 Firepuncher rifle, the kind Crosshair had only seen in firearms databanks Tech sliced in for him.

Bane grabbed the rifle, charged it up, and checked the scope. “Don’t have to worry about any of that tonight though. Tonight, we’re doin’ some target practice...”

He dialed something into the control panel. A long opening slid 280 degrees around the tower at Crosshair’s eye-level, no taller than his fist, yet a screen flickered around the opening to reveal a holographic image of the surrounding area. 

“I can see everything,” he said.

“That’s the idea,” Bane replied. “Watch the field.” 

He flicked another switch and a blue light shimmered over the wheat field as the security shield went down. 

The grass started to quiver almost immediately. 

“What’s out there?” Crosshair asked, sliding the barrel of his rifle through the opening and peering through the scope. 

“Stalker lizards,” Bane said. “Lookin’ for a free meal inside that Fabool enclosure. Tell me what ya see.”

Crosshair toggled the heat sensor display on and off, watching the heat signatures from the lizards and the dark shadows of the landscape. “Lizards about a meter long coming from the southwest.” He scanned the enclosure next, remembering his training. Always check doors, corners, exits, and blindspots.

“We have blindspots.”

“Where’re the blindspots?” Bane asked, clearly a test. 

“South and East walls of the enclosure.”

“Already covered. Look again.”

The heat signatures didn’t change. The landscape didn’t change much either. Crosshair lowered his scope and leaned over the edge of the bell tower as if it would help. “How-”

Bane grabbed his jumpsuit and pulled him back. “Stay in here.” He pushed some monoculars into Crosshair’s hands. “Your little toy scope doesn’t have a range finder, use these.”

“It’s not a toy.”

“It surely is. You wanna be an extraordinary sniper? You gotta grow up n’ use a real sniper rifle. Now quit givin’ me that death glare n’ look at coords 233.32, 33.4.”

Fuming, Crosshair looked through the monoculars. “Coords 233.32, 33.4.” He repeated. 

Crosshair dialed in the coordinates and let the cursor on the display guide his movements.

There were several panels in various parts of the field. Each panel was painted with a shiny yellow number and embedded with silver reflective discs. “Are those mirrors?”

“Tell me which one to shoot.”

“What?”

“Can’t believe I’m sayin’ this, but yer askin’ too many questions. Just do it.”

Crosshair rolled his eyes and shifted his scope from mirror to mirror until the caught the reflection of a stalker lizard climbing up the fabric wall of the enclosure.

“Panel two, center.”

A blaster shot rang out, it ricochet off the mirror and the low-power stun blast knocked the lizard off the enclosure, driving it back to the treeline.

“Again.”

Crosshair aligned his vision. Another panel. “Panel three, top left.”

The blaster bolt fired, ricocheted, and hit its target.

“Keep callin’ ‘em,” Cad said. "Faster."

“Six, low right. Four, center. Two, top center. Two, top left, no wait-”

“Two, middle left,” Cad corrected and took the shot. 

“How do you see them without the monoculars?” 

Bane snatched Crosshair’s monoculars and shoved the Firepuncher into his hands. “Built-in rangefinder in the scope. Give it a try.”

Bane’s rifle was heavier than his, but it also felt sturdier and a lot more powerful. He did a quick procedural check of the power cell, the scope angle, and acclimated himself to the weight before sliding the barrel through the opening.  The scope was alive with readings. Rangefinder, coordinates scale, the crosshairs shifted as it looked for moving targets and returned to center when there was nothing. 

“This is cheating,” Crosshair grumbled.

Bane snorted. “No such thing in this business. Besides, you can spend all the fancy credits in the galaxy and it don't make you the best. Yer greatest mod is yer eyes n' yer instincts. Now shut up n’ start firin’. Lizards are startin’ to swarm.”

The heat signatures doubled and Crosshair took shot after shot, chasing the lizards away.

“Good.” Bane said.

Good, but not extraordinary, Crosshair thought.

Two lizards scaled the corner of the enclosure. Crosshair hit the leader and it landed on its follower, scaring both away.

He waited for Bane to praise him. It was an impressive shot.

Bane remained silent.

Another lizard leapt from a panel onto the enclosure wall. He shot one mirror and it ricocheted off another mirror and hit the lizard between the eyes, sending it sprawling backwards before scurrying off. 

That was impressive too. He waited for the Lieutenant...no...he waited for Bane to comment.

Bane said nothing.

“He’s a good sniper…This squad needs someone extraordinary.”

He took another shot. The blaster bolt bounced off the mirror and hit the tail of the lizard. It kept climbing. 

He took another shot. The lizard dropped.

“Sloppy,” Bane said.

Crosshair’s bolt hit the edge of the enclosure, wool sizzled. The Fabools inside bleeted and honked irritably.

“Shit shot.”

“Are they gonna retire Crosshair?” Wrecker asked, eyes wet with tears.

Another miss.

“Worse,” Cad said.

And another.

“Shittier.”

He shot a mirror, it ricocheted into the night.

“Now yer takin’ yer failure out on the mirrors, huh?” Cad snickered. “Try again.”

The rifle felt heavier. Like the hands of a dozen laughing cadets and one unimpressed lieutenant was pushing it down. 

“Look out, here comes Misfire.”

The heat signatures began to multiply through the scope.

“What’re you doing?” Bane asked. “I said try again.”

Shit shot…worse…failure…

The trigger refused to move. 

“Misfire…Misfire…Misfire…”

“Dank farrick,” Bane swore and grabbed the rifle, firing five shots in quick succession. Blaster bolts soared and ricocheted off the mirrors, scaring away the rest of the lizards. He punched the control panel and the blue shimmering shield spread across the wheat field again. “What was that about? You forget how to shoot?”

Crosshair's hand twitched. He didn't move. He stared at the rifle.

“What the hell, kid?”

Crosshair couldn’t feel his fingers.

Hands shaking, he managed to hoist himself out of the bell tower.  By the time he got to the bottom of the trellis he realized he had left his own rifle behind.

Tears blurring his eyes, he raced back to the front of the house, crashing through the door and stomping up the stairs. 

He hid under the covers.

In a bed that wasn’t his.

Without the rifle that he didn’t deserve anyway.

***

The next morning, the house seemed empty. Bane wasn’t downstairs, but breakfast was waiting for Crosshair. A plate of bacon and eggs on a warming plate.

He ate quickly and guzzled the apple juice, politely pushing away the black caf and wondering if it was only there because he knew Fett was never far from a cup of caf.

He wandered outside to the sun sprinkling the wheat field with golden light. It made him squint. Climbing up the trellis, he poked his head in the bell tower. Neither rifle nor Bane was there.

His heart dropped. He felt sick. If Bane confiscated his rifle, then Crosshair was probably heading back home today. He hoped he’d be able to say bye to his brothers before they retired him. Then again, he didn’t get to say bye to Pintsize and Radar.

Climbing back down the trellis, he walked to the Fabool enclosure punching in the code he watched Bane use the day before. The gate swung open and before he could fall into a cuddle pile of Fabools, a stout droid flew directly at him, nearly slamming him against the gate.

“Who are you?!” The droid asked, round, unblinking yellow eyes flashing with suspicion, his thrusters hissing angrily as he floated in front of Crosshair’s face.

Crosshair pushed himself off the gate. “Bane told me to take care of the Fabools with Todo this morning.”

“I am Todo 360,” the droid declared, spindly arms flailing. “Did Mr. Bane order you to spy on me?” 

“No. If I was going to spy on you,” Crosshair said, dryly. “You’d never know it.”

The droid’s three-fingered hand touched his non-existent chin thoughtfully. “Oh. Hmm. That’s…a valid point. Fine, you may stay, but I am in charge here and you will tell Mr. Bane that I am doing a perfectly good job and I don’t need any help.”

“Fine by me.”

“We’ll start with feeding practices!” Todo announced, shooing away the Fabools who seemed to hate the sound of his thrusters. They rolled towards Crosshair and away from the noisy droid. It was hard to worry about retirement when there were a dozen soft, bouncing balloons begging for his attention, and Crosshair decided to enjoy the moment, taking time to pet each one while Todo did all the work. 

“Well, you’re already proving yourself to be an adequate assistant," Todo said, cleaning the water trough. "It takes me three times longer to fill their troughs when they try to bully me into their cuddle piles.” Todo floated towards the hose and dragged it across the enclosure, straining between words. “Your...reaction...to them...is...far…different…from…Mr. Bane’s…first…interaction.”

“What do you mean?” Crosshair asked.

“Oh, Mr. Bane was terrified of the Fabools when Fett brought him here. Practically climbed up on the fence to get away from them. He was scared of a lot of things back then though.”

Crosshair’s jaw dropped into his lap. “Bane? Cad Bane?”

“Well he wasn’t Mr. Bane back then. Just Cad. He hadn’t chosen a surname. Some Duros culture thing. I never understood it.”

“How long have you known Bane?”

“Many, many years.”

Crosshair cupped a Fabool chick in his hands and pressed it against his cheek. It snuffled at him, inquisitively. “Why was he afraid of the Fabools?”

“He full of paranoia when we met him,” Todo said, lightly. “Just distrustful of everything, in general.”

"But..." Crosshair stared dumbfounded at Todo. “How did he get so…”

“...so very 'Bane' ?” Todo asked.

“Yes.”

Todo held up an authoritative finger. “By eating his vegetables, little boy,” Todo hummed and floated towards the food sacks.

Crosshair rolled his eyes. “What else do you know about Bane?”

“Oh, I know lots about him. I’ve known him for a very long time. I’m his most trusted confidant. I am sworn to secrecy though so I couldn't possibly share anything with you.”

Considering how much Crosshair learned about Bane in the thirty seconds he knew Todo he decided to just nod. “Okay.”

“But…” Todo floated forward, hands rubbing together conspiratorially. “...I do have a few juicy tidbits I could share if you’re interested.”

Crosshair made a mental note to never tell Todo 360 anything about himself. “Sure.”

“Oh goodie! It’s so rare I find someone to gossip with that aren’t Fabools. Bossk and Aurra tell Mr. Bane everything .”

Crosshair scooted forward, setting the chick down on the ground only to have two fabools bounce into his lap and a third bounce against his back. Somehow all of the Fabools reminded him of Wrecker, only cuter and less annoying. “What else do you know?”

“Hmm…oh! Here's something. He didn’t know how to use a blaster when he met Mr. Fett. Mr. Fett taught him everything he knew about being a mercenary.”

“I figured that much.”

“But did you know that Mr. Fett and Mr. Bane engaged in a bar fight before Mr. Fett left for his secret project?”

“Why?”

“Is it not obvious? Mr. Bane idolized Mr. Fett, followed him around like a fabool chick bounces after a feed bag. When Mr. Fett left mercenary work, he left Mr. Bane behind. Mr. Bane took it very personally, but I think it was the best thing that ever happened to him.”

“Why?” Crosshair pressed.

“Because that is when Mr. Bane found that cool confidence in himself. Mr. Fett was always there to lift him up, reward his victories, and tutor his failings. Mr. Bane had to figure out how to exist without Mr. Fett and it was then I noticed that confidence grow like a hmm…like a cactus blossom! He went from Mr. Fett’s shadow to being quite the opposing figure himself.”

Crosshair sat quietly, absorbing this fact. It was hard to imagine the Bane today cowering from Fabools or needing help from anyone.

Or starving for someone else's approval.

When he thought of Bane, he thought of the easy stance, arms relaxed and thumbs hanging over his belt buckle, a toothpick casually moving between his teeth, round eyes behind hooded lids that could see through a person with more accuracy than a scope. That nonchalant drawl, the cheeky turn of phrase, unrattled, and prickly.  

All the things Crosshair wanted to be. 

“Has Bane ever had an apprentice before?”

“Not to my knowledge. Mr. Fett’s request is unusual, but Bane would do anything for-”

“Kid, get up.”

Crosshair startled, whipping his head back to find Bane leaning against the wall, arms folded, toothpick rolling lazily in his teeth. How long had he been in the enclosure? A Fabool snuffled at his boot, lost interest than bounce against Crosshair's head.

“Come with me.” Bane left the enclosure without another word.

Crosshair didn’t move at first. Not because he was covered in Fabools, but because he knew this was the end.

Retirement…

He’d finally find out what happened to Pintsize and Radar.

“Nice to meet you, Todo,” he said, standing up and gently rolling the fabools away who happily bounded towards the droid.

“Oh! Well nice to meet you too, um… ‘Kid’.”

“Sit down,” Bane said, pointing to the rocking chair on the porch before going into the house.

Crosshair sank onto the flower-patterned cushioned seat, trying and failing to rest his boots on the railing. It was too far away. He sighed and drew his legs up, hugging his knees. He watched the skies for a ship to come and pick him up. 

Bane came out a few minutes later and sat in the other rocking chair, boots landing with a jingle of his spurs on the railing. Crosshair’s rifle was in his hands. It took all of Crosshair’s self-control not to lunge for it, hug it, and promise he would never abandon it again.

He hugged his knees tighter.

“Doesn’t take a genius to know why you ran out last night,” Bane began, tilting his hat up to look Crosshair in the eyes. “You crave praise like a dying man thirstin’ of jocola . I don’t reckon you get a lot of positive reinforcement at the facility n’ ya know what? Tough shit. The sooner ya realize the galaxy ain’t gonna give ya validation is the day ya actually become the extraordinary sniper I know ya can be.

“This is the last and only time I���m gonna say this," Bane continued. "Yer real fuckin’ good, and yer gonna be the best. I ain't ever wrong about shit like this. Now...you hold onto that praise because after this conversation, I ain’t gonna be nice to ya anymore. Yer gonna get pushed n' pushed hard, yer gonna get shaken, and I’m gonna do everythin’ I can to get ya past this bullshit worry about what everyone else thinks. Maybe you’ll hate me, hell ya might even shoot me in the back, but it’ll be worth it because it’s gonna send ya past that kraytshit extraordinary standard Pynk’s got for ya.”

Bane offered the rifle back to Crosshair. “I promise, by the time ya get back home, yer gonna be tougher than a reek’s horn n’ twice as deadly.”

The moment Crosshair’s fingers touched his rifle, he knew it was augmented. It felt like a Firepunch. Better scope, heavier stock, a weapon for a real sniper. He peered through the scope. 

“Whoa,” Crosshair murmured, scanning the field with his scope, toggling between more scanners than he knew existed. “Wizard.”

“Listen kid, in this galaxy there’ll be plenty of people tryin’ to put you down, break your spirit, break your bones. Only person you gotta trust is yourself. Yer all ya need, you understand me?”

Crosshair realized it was a lesson Bane had to learn when Jango left for Kamino. It would be a lesson Crosshair would carry with him the rest of his life.

Even if Bane was hired to train him, to be this mentor, it meant something to Crosshair. "Understood."

“Go clean up. Food’s in an hour. Beef stew minus the carrots. After that you start yer real trainin’. Deal?”

Crosshair hopped up, slinging his rifle over his shoulder. “Deal.”

“One more thing, kid.”

“Yeah?”

“What did you and Todo talk about this morning?”

Crosshair didn’t bother lying. “You.”

Bane growled quietly. “That gossiping little shit. What did he say?”

Though Crosshair didn’t intend to lie, he also didn’t feel like ratting Todo out. So he was honest about the thing that mattered most. 

“He said you’re better off without Fett around.” 

The words seemed to splash cold water on Bane’s face. The mercenary  looked away, out to the golden field, too bright in the noonday sun. 

“Is it true?” Crosshair asked. 

Bane’s glare didn’t skewer Crosshair as sharply as he expected. In fact, it looked like he may even answer.

“Target practice starts at dusk. Bring your A-game, kid. Not holding back on you. Now get outta here.”

And with that Bane sank into his rocking chair tilted his hat forward over his eyes.

The conversation was over.

Crosshair was happy he asked.

[cantsomeoneelsedoit]

Ch 33: Unluck on Our Side

If it wasn't for bad luck, I wouldn't have no luck at all

To prevent Under from escaping with the Round Table, Andy and Fuuko are going to use Unluck on UMA Burn. Juiz instructs the other members to do whatever they can to help.

Everyone jumps into action, but Fuuko takes a moment to talk to Tatiana.

This is so incredibly kind and thoughtful of Fuuko. She's telling Tatiana:

You're not foolish for being tricked by Billy.

You're not wrong to keep believing in him.

You're not the only one who doubts that he's a real villain.

She's giving Tatiana what she needs right now and what will keep her from falling to pieces. And what's more, it seems like Fuuko believes what she's saying--she's not just saying these things to keep Tatiana from going nuclear.

Rip and Billy discuss their goals:

So Billy wants to kill God, but Rip wants to kill God and then something. Seeing as how no one really knows what will happen if they kill God, IDK why Rip is so certain he'll have an opportunity to do this other thing!

Billy looks different in this panel. It's almost like he's coming to terms with the fact that he's hurt his former teammates and friends. He looks tired. And he also looks like Dr. Tenma??

Nico and Mico's plan is to gather as many sources of Unluck as possible and stall Burn until the Unluck occurs.

Isshin reveal when?

Mico is so cute in the ways she resembles Nico--the headband, the hair, his bare feet and her slippers, and the way they both open their mouths so wide to yell at each other!

This is so cute, but sometimes Andy's vocabulary is not unlike a lively little old man from the 1940s? "Hot damn?" "Smooch?" Feels kinda Grandpa Simpson sometimes.

Though it seems like Andy's been all around the world, sometimes he comes off as very American.

Back to the story, Fuuko thwarts Billy's attempt to use Unjustice on her. Instead of beheading herself, she beheads Andy, who flies into UMA Burn's mouth.

PLOP

Billy seems to think that the Unluck is limited to only the electromagnetic cables misfiring. But he was there when they took down Victor, right? Doesn't he know about the dangers of smooches?

Burn is frozen solid with cold air, which Billy also dismisses, but then...

UNBREAKABLE PILE CANNON! Isshin's revenge!

Pile bunkers are mostly found in mecha/Gundam shows. And come to think of it, Burn did function like a pilotable mecha in this scene!

UMA vs UMA battle when?

Masterpost

[sunnydaleherald]

The Sunnydale Herald Newsletter, Wednesday, October 9

BUFFY: “Uhm, this is much better. There is no problem that can not be solved with chocolate.”

~~Fear, Itself~~

[Drabbles & Short Fiction]

BtVS Double Drabble: Slightly Singed by badly_knitted (Willow, PG)

To Hurt by apachefirecat (Faith, PG-13)

Weekly Drabbles #177 — Toddler Art by veronyxk84 (Buffy/Spike, PG-13)

cupid's misfire by redhandedtamarin (Buffy/Willow, T)

Time Well Spent by MadeInGold (Riley/Spike, E)

Maybe Pain is Good For Us by MadeInGold (Angel/Spike, T)

Always the bridesmaid by wildflowerr_wildfire (Buffy/Spike, Faith/Angel, Xander/Dawn, T)

Aud's Lament by wildflowerr_wildfire (Xander/Anya, T)

[a little fun/smutty Ripper and Buffy on Halloween night] by unendingwanderlust (Buffy/Giles, unrated but NSFW)

Unraveling by Maxine Eden (Buffy/Spike, R)

Where the wild things lay to rest by will_ (Buffy/Spike, PG-13)

The Greater Good by tempestt (Buffy/Spike, PG-13)

Aud's Lament by will_ (Buffy/Spike, PG-13)

Aud's Lament by will_ (Buffy/Spike, PG-13)

What the Drabble? Vol. 2 - ch. 77 by VeroNyxK84 (Buffy/Spike, PG-13)

[Chaptered Fiction]

Alexander Spencer - ch. 1 by calikocat (Xander/Tor Hauer, Psych and Teen Wolf xover, E)

Horrorshow - ch. 27 by vampbrat (Angel/Spike/Wesley, others, E)

2012 Althenea had just finished reapplying the ward on their ramshackle hideaway... (part 9) by hiddenbysuccubi (Buffy/Spike, unrated)

Should I Stay or Should I Go? (Part Three) by prose-for-hire (Spike/reader, unrated)

Burn - ch. 1-2 by Spikelover4ever (Buffy/Spike, NC-17)

reciprocity - ch. 1 by HappyWhenItRains (Buffy/Spike, NC-17)

Something True - ch. 2 by BewitchedXx (Buffy/Spike, PG-13)

Be Back Before Dawn - ch. 5 by Blissymbolics (Buffy/Spike, NC-17)

Mysterious Destinies - ch. 13 by EnchantedWillow (Buffy/Spike, NC-17)

Sorting Shenanigans - ch. 4 by VoronaFiernan (Buffy/Spike, PG-13)

Truth and Consequences - ch. 26 by JamesMFan (Buffy/Spike, R)

Unconditional - ch. 12 by Blade Redwind (Buffy/Spike, NC-17)

Alexander Spencer - ch. 1 by calikocat (Xander-centric, Pysch and Teen Wolf xover, FR21)

Exorcise - ch. 5 by Desicat (Buffy/Spike, PG)

A Sword in the Man - ch. 9 by Desicat (Buffy/Spike, PG-13)

Heaven Sent - ch. 4-20 by sunalso (Buffy/Spike, Adult Only)

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Artwork and fic rec: “You’re gonna be the end of me, Summers,” he said in a way that was almost affectionate. by flyora (Buffy/Spike, slightly NSFW)

Artwork and fic rec: “Go dance with your devil boyfriend,” Willow said with a cheeky smile as she twirled a beaded necklace around her finger. by flyora (Buffy/Spike, worksafe)

Artwork: So... You finally found me ✨ Slayer ✨by brennenfox (Spike, worksafe)

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Gifset: ANGEL: THE SERIES | 25TH ANNIVERSARY FIRST AIRED OCTOBER 5TH, 1999 by someonefantastic (ATS ensemble, worksafe)

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Gifset: flames wouldn't be eternal if they didn't consume anything. but it means something that... by gothamstreetcat (Wesley/Lilah, slightly NSFW)

Gifset: Dawn Summers + Outfits (Season 6) by clarkgriffon (Dawn, worksafe)

Gifset: I'm blonde. I-I colored my hair again, I'm blonde. Yes, I noticed. by clarkgriffon (Anya, worksafe)

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Artwork: Tara and Buffy in love, by RosyToonz by MattanzaMFedora on DeviantArt (Buffy/Tara, worksafe)

[Reviews & Recaps]

Just watched "The Body"(still a great episode) and ... by thequeenofsastiel

Rewatching s5 and it really blows my mind that after Glory showed up at Buffy's house... by thequeenofsastiel

BEE’S TOP 20 BUFFY THE VAMPIRE SLAYER EPISODES EVER: by neros-very-first-fiddle

PODCAST: Episode 44 - Baby Bangs and Comfy Sheets (Amends) | The Sunnydale Diaries - A Buffy the Vampire Slayer Podcast

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[Recs & In Search Of]

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[Community Announcements]

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[Fandom Discussions]

my brother (first time watcher) is so upset with Dawn. by hondagirll

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Prompts: faith WOULD ask buffy to make out with her in order to put on a show by lesbianmarrow

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Buffy rekindling her romance with Angel after he cane back from hell... by yarboyandy

People always say Spike wasn't able to love selflessly as a vampire [BUT] by suiriswhite

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[seeing red actually DOES make sense] for a number of reasons... by thequeenofsastiel

just watched first daughter (2004) and [marc blucas was good and the BTVS writing failed Riley] by aahsoka

My toxic trait is believing that Lilah and Wesley were soulmates... by thefanggangismymuse

POLL: Who would be your ideal romantic endgame for Buffy Summers? by positive-polls

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The under-utilization of Anya by Stellz04

As a straight man I have to appreciate just how ridiculously handsome Giles is... [ASH appreciation] by AxelNoir

S3, Ep 3 [tell my why you enjoy Faith] by veganbethb

If you were Willow, After Buffy's Death, would have gotten Faith out of prison?? by samof1994

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[idontknowreallywhy]

Best Jupidad Moments #5 Nevermoor Ch 8 - What is honesty anyway?

One thing I find fascinating about the Nevermoor series is how the author treats the concept of honesty, truth and provision of information as a right, both on a society level and, as here, within Family. It would be easy to say “love and respect must = full disclosure of all relevant facts and 100% brutal honesty. End of.” After all, who is a better judge of what a person “needs to know” than that person themselves?

Easy to say, that is, until you have a child to look after who asks questions and you often find yourself having to figure out what is helpful for them to know now and what you should withhold because they aren’t ready / they need to discover and understand some other things first / their life doesn’t need to be tainted yet with the full knowledge of how messed up the world is / it’s just going to be a distraction from what they need to know right now etc etc.

So how does our Jupidad tackle the difficult questions?

‘What’s my knack?’ she demanded.

‘Good morning to you too.’

‘Good morning,… ... ‘What’s my knack?’

‘Mind if I nick a pastry? I’m famished.’

‘Help yourself. What’s my knack?’ Jupiter stuffed his mouth full of pastry while Morrigan watched him and fretted.

<paragraph of Morrigan’s fret-fest-monologue>

‘I’m right, aren’t I?’

Jupiter swallowed. ‘Before I forget – my seamstress is coming to fit you for a new wardrobe this morning. What’s your favourite colour?’

Jupiter isn’t daft, he must have know this question was coming because while he was away, Morrigan would have been asked by everyone she met what her knack was (didn’t take Frank long). So you’d think he’d already have had a plan of how to answer it, but he starts by stalling, and then tries to distract / change the subject! Is it just Wunsoc instinct to control the conversation? Has he just lost his nerve, or has her direct approach thrown him off his game? Is he just tired and hungry and not quite ‘on it?’

It was the most dishevelled she’d seen him. He was barefoot and wore a wrinkled, untucked white shirt over blue trousers with braces that hung down untidily against his hips. Morrigan realised they were the clothes he’d worn the day before. She wondered whether he’d slept in them, or hadn’t slept at all. His eyes were closed against the light, and he looked as if he’d happily sit there all day.

I like to think maybe he didn’t exactly know what he was planning to say when he knocked on the door. That he didn’t actually prepare quite as much as maybe he should have BECAUSE he just went straight there after getting back from wherever he was called to because he was excited to see her, wanted to spend time with her, check how she was, maybe finish the tour he started the day before…

She groaned. ‘Jupiter!’ ‘Oh, all right.’ He leaned against the wall and slid all the way down to the floor, stretching his long legs out on the rug. ‘If you want to talk about boring things, we’ll talk about boring things.’

Part of me wonders if all of this is just his very laboured way of trying to make his point that this knack business isn’t the most important thing about her, that in his eyes it isn’t the only thing that would give her value? By acting completely unbothered about it I guess he’s hoping she’ll decide it’s fairly unimportant. Bit of a misfire because of course as soon as you tell an 11 year old something isn’t important and they shouldn’t worry about it… pretty much they are going to. And she’s already realising from her conversations with others that to most people the knack is *everything*.

I wonder how the story would have panned out if he had told her at this point what made her different? If he’d got in there first before she found out much more about “The Wundersmith” and how everyone was terrified of the concept? Would she have coped with hearing all that knowing she was one herself? Or did she need a good few months of being loved and treated as a normal (non-cursed) human before she’d be strong enough to believe she could rewrite the wundersmith narrative in her own, positive, way? Reading this chapter I’m frustrated with Jupiter along with Morrigan, but can’t help thinking he did make the right call on day 2 after all.

‘How do I win?’ ‘You just need to trust me. Do you trust me?’ Jupiter’s face was earnest and open. Morrigan nodded without hesitation. ‘Then let me worry about the Show Trial. I’ll tell you when you need to start worrying. I promise.’ It was an odd feeling to trust a stranger she’d met two days ago. But Morrigan felt somehow it was hard not to trust Jupiter. (He had, after all, saved her life.)

For a kid who has been so badly treated, she does trust quite easily (not only Jupiter but Mr Jones too). She’s possibly still at the stage where she is going to trust anyone who isn’t overtly awful to her. Even so, I do think there is something inherently trustworthy in Jupiter because of how he’s acted so far, beyond just the life saving part, and also she’ll have picked up on his employees’ view of him too.

‘Is being cursed my talent? Do I have a knack for … making things go wrong?’ Jupiter looked as if he was about to speak, then snapped his mouth shut. Thirty seconds passed during which he seemed to have a brief but lively argument inside his head.

I’d love to know what happens in Jupiter’s lively head-argument! But I also love the fact that Jessica leaves this for us to guess. I suspect what I imagined when I first read it might be different to what I think now, having read books 1-3 an embarrassing number of times. And it may change again. I’m not going to say what I currently reckon because I think having that gap for the reader to fill with their own impressions is really valuable.

However what we do know is this - he doesn’t answer immediately. He could - we know he’s a quick thinker and we know the Jove one-liner is legendary (see: everything with Flintlock!). Our Jupidad knows this is a really pivotal moment, that what he says here could make or break her, could form part of her inner monologue for the rest of her life. So he doesn’t respond with a throwaway line. He stops, he thinks, he makes her wait… and then gives a considered answer. Not only is this excellent parenting but it’s modelling exactly what she will need to do in the book trial in a few weeks.

Then at the conclusion of his considered answer, This:

You forget it,’ he said. ‘You forget it, from this moment on. Do you understand? You are not a curse.’

‘Yeah, okay.’ Morrigan rolled her eyes and tried to turn away, but Jupiter took her face in his hands and held on fast.

‘No, listen to me.’ His wide blue eyes burned into her black ones. Righteous anger rolled off him like heat from the pavement in summer. ‘You asked me if your talent is being cursed? If you have a knack for ruining things? Hear me when I tell you this: you are not a curse on anyone, Morrigan Crow. You never have been. And I think you’ve known that all along.’

I wonder if the reason this passage is so universally loved is that so many of us desperately need to hear (and believe) this for ourselves?

You may not have literally been told you were a curse like Morrigan was, but life events, the words and expectations of other people, or the disappointed facial expression of somebody you barely knew (or worse that you do) sit on you like a cloud and eat away at your self-esteem and sense of worth.

Maybe it’s depression, which I know from experience can be a constant disparaging voice mocking your attempts to believe in your own value?

Maybe you don’t fit in any of the myriad artificial boxes society keeps throwing at us to keep us predictable, controllable.

Maybe you feel stuck in a box that confines you.

Maybe you feel nobody has ever truly understood you.

Whatever it is that you wear like a heavy cloak, hear me when I tell you this: 

You are not a curse on anyone.

You never have been.

You have great value and a unique and beautiful contribution to make to this crazy world. 

[silverwingink]

Wreck Ch. 3

Cold… It was all so cold.

It was the kind of cold that would seep into your bones and cause a deep ache unlike anything else. 

For quite some time it felt like all he could sense was the cold, the ache, and his own shivering.

So it came as quite a surprise when he began to feel enveloped in a deep soothing warmth, like someone had wrapped him in the fuzziest blanket in the world. 

Now that he actually thought about it, there definitely was a blanket around him. 

Fighting against his exhaustion, he slowly forced his eyes open. It took a few hard blinks to get the blurriness to dissipate, but bit by bit he could make out the room that he was in. Above him, he could see wooden planks and glass bottles hanging by macrame hammocks, each one filled with water and plants. 

Had Asmund somehow found him? Brought him here? Had it all been a nightmare? 

Danny opened his mouth and tried to call his name, but all that came out was a high-pitched whine that faded off into a pathetic, pained whimper. It was apparent that the hit he’d taken to the throat was coming back to bite him, and it wasn’t the only thing biting either. A consistent soreness emanated from his paws that would snap into a sharp stab if he dared move. His muscles and joints were all floppy with exhaustion from the fight against the waves. And his tail… oh his tail. All the agony he should have felt when he tore himself out of that e-pod was now eagerly taking center stage in his mind.

Another whimper escaped him, this noise being just as weak and regrettable as the last, echoing through the small, strange room, “E e e e e…” 

He could practically hear the circuits misfiring in his throat. There was no doubt about it; his artificial voice box was completely shot. 

“I think they’re awake,” a muffled voice spoke, barely making it to the edge of his hearing. 

Some creaking filled the room, foreign to his ears. Were they walking on wood? He’d only ever really heard genuine wood once before, a long time ago. No one typically had the money to make stuff out of such rare materials anymore. 

He slowly glanced toward the sound, taking in more of the space in the process. Pastel-painted walls, aquariums, hydroponics, it was seemingly a plant-lovers dream. Netting was delicately hung up with shells and other curiosities interwoven into the strings. An elegant vanity made of wood and coral stood comfortably to his side. This… didn’t look like a survival habitat.

And the stranger peeking in through the doorway didn’t look familiar.

Dagfinn’s eyes widened some when he saw a green figure poking their head in, staring back at him. The two shared a moment of stunned silence before the stranger sighed, seeming relieved, “Yeah, they’re awake!” they called back over their shoulder, before entering the room. 

At first, the blue beetle felt alarmed and reacted by attempting to jolt upright. This action was very quickly punished as every injury on his body screamed in protest at the sudden movement. His breath hitched in his throat as he resisted making another sound, fearing the discomfort it would further cause in his throat. 

“W-whoa whoa! Slow down! I’m not going to hurt you!” the stranger spoke, lifting up his hands in front of himself to show he meant no harm, “In fact, you’re just going to end up hurting yourself more if you keep that up!” 

Resting his weight on his elbows, Dagfinn steadily sank back down, sighing once his body was again settled on the mattress. The throbbing agony in his wounds slowly calmed, returning to the more subtle ache of before. He wouldn’t be pulling that again. 

Seeing this the green beetle approached more carefully, “I’m sorry if I scared you,” they said, “I-I know it must be odd waking up here with a complete stranger, not knowing where you are,” he paused for a moment before offering the other a soft smile, “But, how about we start fixing that? I’m Andromeda,” they rested a hand on their chest with the introduction, “And you’re in a friend’s house right now,” they gestured outward to the room around them, “We found you on the shore, you seemed pretty banged up… do you remember what happened at all?”

The small beetle’s brows furrowed some as he thought back, he could definitely remember what happened, but how would he even explain that? ‘Oh, I’m just an alien from another planet who came here with my cousin, but we got hit by space rocks and–’ 

The edge of his mouth twitched, resisting a frown. Urgh… on second thought, he didn’t really want to think about it right now. 

He looked back up to Andromeda and slowly shook his head, lying. He winced some at the pain it caused in his heavily bruised throat.

Andromeda noticed it immediately, “Ah, I suppose we should keep the questions for later when you’re less sore,” he stepped forward, beginning to look over some of the bandages, “I don’t mind doing some of the talking, as long as you can handle my jokes,” he winked briefly. Dagfinn gave a mildly amused look to this. 

The green beetle worked warily, not wanting to cause any further strain on the wounds than what had already been caused. He slowly worked his way around the dressings, checking to make sure they were secure, “You gave us quite the shock y’know. This beach isn’t exactly known for spitting up half-dead tea beetles,” he began, humming briefly as he found some areas on his paws where liquid was beginning to seep through, “Then again, I suppose you’re the most action this town has seen in quite some time,” he mused, gingerly placing Dagfinn’s paw back down and stepping back towards the vanity to grab some equipment.

As Andromeda shuffled through the various items, the blue beetle’s eyes wandered some, eventually landing on the little swirling designs painted onto the doorframe. In all honesty, it was a useless fixation; just something to keep his mind off the pain of the moment. But, much to his luck, something more interesting than painted swirls soon showed itself before him; another head peeking into the doorway. Well… actually, 3 more, all settled at different heights against the frame. 

His lips parted slightly as he watched, completely confounded by the look of them. They had similarities to the green fellow but were all so unique in their own ways as well. A tall, shark-like one with a frightening grin and sharp teeth, a pale-blue, elegant one with hair that seemed to flow like water, and, possibly the oddest of them all, a skeleton, perfectly encapsulated in a watery form. 

As they entered, Andromeda spoke, “Ah, came to say hello?”

“Yeah, and just to make sure you’re not pulling our tails,” Mako commented, turning her attention to their ‘patient, “How are you holding up little buddy?” 

“They’re doing a lot better than before,” Andromeda answered for him, “But I think something happened to their throat, they haven’t been able to speak or move their neck without looking in pain,” he noted, coming back over and beginning to carefully remove the bandages from Dagfinn’s right paw.

“I might have some painkillers in the kitchen if they need them,” the pale blue one offered. 

“Might be helpful, thank you, Athena,” They smiled some in her direction, to which she nodded and dipped back out of the room. 

The other two introduced themselves while they were there, one with words and the other with signs, which Mako translated. ‘Andromeda, Athena, Mako, and Fiji…This planet’s got unique names,’ he pondered.

Mako turned to Andromeda, “Need an extra hand or two?”

“I find it’s easier if you use both hands, typically,” he smirked.

“Pfft. Ok clown,” Mako snorted, though the comment seemed lighthearted. She became their ‘assistant’ for the moment, passing things from the vanity when they were needed.

Fiji on the other hand approached with some curiosity, looking over the small beetle’s injuries.

Dagfinn’s shoulders tensed some at her approach, still dumbfounded by her mere appearance. She was an honest-to-goodness skeleton, with no special effects or face paint as far as he could tell. He’d seen some bizarre creatures on 4546B, but nothing with an exposed skeleton like this. She also froze when she realized how tense he was, seemingly not wanting to make him uncomfortable. 

“Oh, do you wanna help Fiji? You can start unwrapping the other paw if you want, it’s gonna need a change too,” Andromeda spoke up, presenting a few supplies to the other beetle.

Fiji nodded, accepting the tools. After looking them over, she silently offered an open palm to Dagfinn. Was… she letting him choose? After a moment of hesitation, he took it, placing his paw in hers. 

And so, the three of them worked, tending to his wounds, speaking with each other, and occasionally sending a remark or joke Danny's way in an attempt to lift his spirits. It wasn't a painless process by any means, of course, it wouldn't be with how tender his wounds were. Despite that, Dagfinn didn't feel alarmed or in danger. In fact, he felt quite… safe. 

Even with the questions still swirling in his mind regarding the whereabouts of his cousin, what planet they were even on or if he'd be able to get his voice box fixed, he felt that, at least for the moment, things were going to be okay.

Andromeda belongs to Mirukkii

Fiji, Mako and Athena (mentioned) belong to JoviAC

Chapter 1 is here. Chapter 2 is here.

[silverstreams]

6, 26, 27, 62 tlg pls

6. What's the last line that you wrote?

Last one that I touched with editing, or one that takes place farthest chronologially in the story? For the second, I guess this line for my WIP rough draft of Ch 31: "Carefully, delicately cleaning the things she could safely reach one at a time."

26. What's your least favorite part of the writing process?

The part when I'm in revisions and I have a ton of notes on things to change and brackets of unwritten stuff, and am starting to work on rewrites but haven't actually rewritten everything yet, so everything just feels like a giant mess.

That, and trying to get flow nailed down. For events in general but also for conversations. Sometimes I'll have all the individual points of a conversation written out, but figuring out how to connect them all in a logical order is a big challenge. It's tough because it's one of those things where, when you're a reader, you might not even notice. Which is the point--it should all flow smoothly without drawing attention to itself. But that also means that people might not necessarily see just how much work it took to get it to that point.

27. What area of writing do you feel strongestest in?

Not sure how to answer this one. Honestly it's more like none of them? I have areas that I feel weaker at but not necessarily anything I feel super strong at, I've still got a ton to learn in all areas of writing. If I had to pick though, I would say conveying emotion.

62. In TLG, is there a deleted scene/idea you wish you could have included? Why did it get cut?

Oh! Yes. One that I really wanted to include had to do with the bathroom scenes in ch 24/25.

I wanted a scene where GLaDOS was alone in Chell's bathroom after the bath, presumably waiting while Chell changed outside. Just killing time, looking around. The bathroom isn't terribly exciting. She sees some dust, or at least thinks it's dust at first until she takes a closer look. It doesn't look like dust. She's curious now, drags a finger through it. Tries to smell it, but her sense of smell is rather imperfect and this doesn't match anything she has smelled before (while being in the android). Before doing a more thorough chemical breakdown, she asks Caroline if she recognizes the smell. And Caroline has an answer for her: gunpowder. GLaDOS makes a face. That doesn't make sense. She's been around plenty of turrets before, but the way that they fire (spring-loaded bullets ((see: one of the portal 2 promo ads)) doesn't really "fire" the bullets. And it's not like they have any regular guns around the place. She's confused, but ends up passing it off as a misfire of her more-experimental olfactory senses. Plus, she's got nothing to worry about, right?

This scene ended up not working, because I needed GLaDOS to leave the bathroom and go get the stuff because Chell ended up needing some help to leave the bathroom. Plus, I came up with that other way to induce a mini-heart-attack, with the towel thing. Didn't work logistically, but it's still one of my favorite little deleted moments.

[Ask me a Fanfic Writing Ask]

[tokiro07]

Undead Undead ch. 147 thoughts

[I Have No Voice and I Must Scream]

Look at that cover!!! It’s so cute!!! The Panpandas are such an underutilized concept within Undead Unluck, I really hope we get to see more of them when Tatiana comes back. I feel a little bad for Chikara, though, he’s barely visible under Top and I had a heck of a time figuring out it was even him because I wasn’t sure what I was looking at until I realized we were seeing his bangs covering one of his eyes

I really hope that we’ll get to see the Under crew as Panpandas later too, it’s such a shame to exclude them. I imagine that we’d get that in a cover page with Bunny, though perhaps it could be Tatiana showing Billy her collection or Rip sewing them for Latla? There’s so many ways for this to go, it’d be such a missed opportunity not to! 

Man, I hope they make merch of these...

Oh, also, this is the third color page we’ve gotten in six chapters, currently averaging at one every other chapter for this year! I wonder if perhaps UU will be a bit closer to the front on the next shared cover...?

We cut to Southeast Asia in the country (?) of Buroja, which I had been unable to find when I was researching the South China Sea a few weeks back. I figured that perhaps it was an island nation that I just couldn’t find because it was so small or something, but no. The reason I couldn’t find it is because it isn’t real. Tozuka made it up, presumably to avoid stepping on any toes by referencing a real conflict, but in the process he stepped on mine by making me look a fool. Also, the name Buroja is apparently a reference to one of Tozuka’s favorite things, Gundam, as it’s an anagram for the Jaburo federation. According to David Evelyn, the wounded soldiers we see later even share designs with some pilots from Mobile Suit Zeta Gundam. David also realized that he had missed another Gundam reference much earlier in the series in Andy’s backstory, as the members of his gang were all named after  various Gundam characters! Man, I wonder if I’d be able to get away with making a bunch of Medaka Box references in my work...

We see Tella identifying an airdrop based on the sound, and he determines that they are under-armed. He reports this to Billy with the help of a map that seems to be made so as to allow Billy to read it through touch, confirming that Billy is already blind at this point in his history. I thought he would go blind during his tragedy, but I guess not. I wonder if that will be important, or if he was born that way? If he was born blind, that may explain why he’s such a capable fighter; rather than relearning how to operate without sight, he never learned how to operate with it and wasn’t hampered by the loss. Maybe, I guess we’ll see

We learn that this conflict isn’t exactly political in nature, rather it’s a treasure hunt, with various mercenary groups hired by presumably different nations to find an ancient superweapon: Disc.

As you may recall, Disc was the UFO that Gina was using to scan Lake Baikal to find a UMA back before Andy and Fuuko joined the Union, and ultimately the cause of her death when the on-board laser misfired as a source of Unluck. I had been under the impression that Disc, with its clear resemblance to Gina’s hat, was designed by Nico specifically for Gina’s use. When we later learned that Tatiana’s armor was simply called Sphere, I took that as confirmation that Nico just had terrible naming sense, but now it seems that Disc might actually be an Artifact. Perhaps it’s the ur example of a UFO

Tella worries about handing over Disc to whatever government their group, Horizon Balance, is working for, but Billy reveals that he intends to keep Disc and use it as a deterrent for future conflicts. The thing about mutually assured destruction, though, is that the world saw firsthand what nukes could do; if everyone believes Disc to be a myth, then they’d need to see proof before it can be a deterrent, so Billy’s belief that he’d never need to use it is perhaps a bit optimistic

Billy sends Tella back to camp and asks him to sing for the injured soldiers, as apparently he’s quite good at it, making his inevitable awakening as a Negator even more tragic. Also, I forgot to mention a couple of chapters ago that we got our first good look at Tella’s unmarred face, so I’ll mention it now: Tella’s a lot cuter than I would have guessed. It is 20 years earlier, so obviously he was going to look younger, but I didn’t expect him to have such a babyface. Hell, even Billy looks a lot softer, even though there’s very little different about his design. I think it’s that he doesn’t have that wrinkle under his eyes; what a small detail to much so much of a difference

So Tella sings for the soldiers and tells them he plans to keep all of them alive, but they chide him for being too softhearted to leave an injured soldier behind, which they cite as strategically unsound. Tella’s temper flares when they mention he got his softness from Billy, so I don’t think this is so much an insecurity of Tella’s, but rather a defense of Billy

The soldiers recite Horizon Balance’s oath, which states that their goal is to make the world fair and balanced (hence why Billy ends up becoming the vessel of Unfair), a goal that they are willing to die for if it means that their team can continue the fight. It’s really interesting that Billy was the leader of a group like that only to betray a similar group to lead a group that only has a concept of mutual benefit. It was already stated in the previous loop that Billy founded Under in order to force the Union to meet the conditions for Unfair, but this really drives home how much doing that must have gone against his beliefs and how difficult it must have been for him

Tella leaves the camp to keep watch, and Billy immediately identifies that he’s been crying. Tella accuses him of being able to see, but Billy states that it was clear from the sound of his breathing. I wonder if perhaps Billy’s superhuman hearing will somehow be relevant to Tella’s Rule, if Billy will be able to garner information from Tella that he can’t verbally share? Even if not, Billy and Tella really make an interesting pair: a blind man and a mute man. I’m sure that’ll make for some spicy fanfiction sooner or later

After taking over the watch, Tella realizes that the light airdrop he’d heard earlier was actually a decoy and much more heavily armed tanks are now on track to attack the camp. It is at this exact moment that Tella gains his Rule: Untell. I figured this would be the name after we met UMA Tell during the Ruin Arc, but I still feel like the name itself could use some work. Untold works well for the Rule, but Told doesn’t work as well for the UMA; Untellable also works, and I think that the UMA would probably still be Tell since I can’t imagine there’s a Believable and Avoidable when Belief and Avoid would make more sense

As I’m sure we all expected, Untell negates Tella’s ability to communicate with his body, hence why in ch. 120 we see him talking through a speaker hooked up to his throta and why in the modern day we would see him using speakers that plug into his forehead; presumably neither require any muscular movement, with the latter seeming to work on thought waves. I don’t know how the former would work, though, but the image of Tella with a tube jutting out of his bleeding neck illustrates a very painful process for learning how to circumvent his own “power”

We do see just after the fight with Summer that Tella can use his speakers to intercept attacks, so it’s clear that Tella 100 did figure out how to turn his obviously weak and restrictive ability into a strength and that the current Tella will undoubtedly do the same, likely without the same tribulations. My guess is that Tella interprets the oncoming attacks as incoming communications to him, negating them before they can hit his body. That might be a bit of a stretch, but I can’t think of a better way to describe that usage of his ability

Similar to Unrepair paralyzing a target that tries to stop their bloodflow, Untell paralyzes Tella whenever he tries to perform a communicative action such as pressing a button for Morse code or walking toward someone you want to talk to. It is only after Creed fires on the camp that any sound comes out of Tella’s mouth, the disbelieving and grieving whimpers not meant to reach anyone but only to react

On the subject of Creed, my roommate tells me that the tanks his troupe is using are Russian, implying that Creed may have been hired to find Disc by Russia, so I think there’s a good chance that Horizon Balance is working for the US, but that’s probably not an important detail right now

What is important is that the Union has arrived to defend Horizon Balance from Creed, deflecting enemy fire with Unchange and ready to return fire. I’m guessing that Void, who seems to be holding an attack stance, is meant to keep the enemy from scattering or retreating while Fuuko is going to fire Unluck bullets at the tanks. disarming them while not hurting the people inside. Also, Nico and Ichico can be seen retrieving the injured in the background, so they seem to have this situation pretty well under control

The question now is what role Isshin 12, Yusai and Sean are going to be playing in this battle. Perhaps Isshin made their body armor, Yusai will keep bullets from being fired and Sean will launch some kind of sneak attack? Again, we’ll see next week

Also, I know I pointed it out a few weeks ago, but the Union’s fatigues are so good; Gina in particular looks great in this shot. both because of her outfit and because of her stance. She looks so confident and cool, I love her so much

This chapter went a really long way for endearing me to Tella and continuing to endear me to Billy, I can’t wait to see how Fuuko convinces them to join her cause and how she gets Creed to become an ally rather than an enemy. Will Billy and Creed get their powers at the same time? Will Undecrease be the first victim of the new Unfair, or perhaps will spineless Sean end up viewing Billy as a threat and inadvertently give him Unseen?

This chapter was really good buildup for the coming fight, I can’t wait to see the payoff

Oh, you may also have noticed that I didn’t bring up 2003 again this time (not counting this paragraph). That’s because I’m starting to find it redundant; I’ve expressed my confusion plenty of times by now, and bringing it up every week is just as annoying for me to write as it probably is for you all to read it. For the time being, I’m going to have faith that it will be explained later as either a misunderstanding, events happening earlier like Sean’s birth, or as something more pressing than the majority of other preceding tragedies. Whatever the case, I don’t plan to mention it again until we know the truth for sure, but hopefully that will be sooner than later

[lime-sketches114]

Last Pegasus Ch. 1

Hello everyone and welcome to the FIRST CHAPTER of my original story! I know it's been a LONG while since I posted the Prologue to this story so I hope you all who read this will be interested in further chapters and artworks! This is my dream to put my characters into a story and share with people! This story was inspired by many things so I hope it's fun!

🚫🚫🚫PLEASE DO NOT STEAL THIS IS AN ORIGINAL WORK!!!🚫🚫🚫

💚💚💚PLZ LIKE SHARE AND COMMENT YOUR OPINIONS! ID LIKE TO SEE EM AND PLZ GIVE A FOLLOW FOR MORE!💚💚💚

Thank you and happy reading!

💜- Kat/Lime the Author

WARNINGS: censored cursing, anxiety, mostly safe stuff, very fluffy and wholesome

As the sun started to rise high in the sky, I sat alone in the garden. Doodling away in my sketchbook as my younger sister practiced magic. It was late summer for us as the breeze blew by. Even the cold hasn't nipped the warmth yet. My mind fluttered to new lands as I drew. It was like from memories in past lives but that would be silly. A misfired spell brought me back to my senses with a scream and I looked in the direction of my sister.

"Whoops…sorry sis…" she apologized.

"It's alright Ava, but try not to do complicated spells too often. Your tattoos haven't even come in and you're much older than 13 years old." I patted her head.

"I know but I'm tired of it all…I want to be like you guys and fly or do complicated spells and tricks!" She sighed as her ears drooped.

"One day you'll have your chance. Just be patient" I picked up my sketchbook.

"Just like how you're testing Uncle Laurence's patience?"

I looked at her confused then looked at my phone. Oh sh*t. I WAS LATE!!!

"Great Gods! I'm late!! I have to go Ava…umm…try not to blow up the castle by accident…again" I chuckled nervously then raced to the stables to find my wolf, Urion, waking up from his nap.

"I take it you just looked at your phone…" he yawned.

"Shush! Yes and now I'm late! Come on!" I climbed onto his big back and we were off to the town below the castle. 

Racing down the main street we stopped at the location we were to meet at. It was a local cafe my twin worked at. The streets along the way seem to be bustling in the early light of day as buildings line the sidewalks. People from far and wide have seemed to call this kingdom home for as long as I can remember. After a bit of running, we arrived at the cafe. Urion let me off and turned into a human form to not take up space plus he didn't want to shed in the place.

"Welcome your majesty~~~" Speaking of the daemons themselves…my twin piped in.

"Flash you know you don't have to blurt that out loud"

"I know but it's funny, Uncle Laurence came in about an hour ago, you're lucky he's lenient on you."

"I know and I'm sorry, could you make my drink to go while I speak to him" I held up my card.

"No problem, I'm about to get off my shift anyways, Doofus can cover me"

"But you're the manager here…"

"And he's co-manager" they raised their brow.

"And I wonder what he's more into…you or the leadership complex in general…"

"Just shut up and go to Uncle Laurence" they huffed

I chuckled as I made my way to the couches in the back. There I saw our Uncle. He was clutching his cane in front of him. He was still pretty young for his age to be handicapped the way he was but it was an accident that caused his predicament. He came out of his thoughts from staring out the window when I approached and he gave a soft smile.

"Ah, Kat, I see you woke Urion up as well. He needed the exercise." My uncle chuckled as he adjusted himself with a beaming smile he always seemed to have.

"Yeah…sorry for being late, I was stuck in my fantasy world while Ava practiced. Her misfire brought me back to reality" I chuckled embarrassingly.

"Is that so hm? Well as long as she didn't hurt herself…" he sighed

"So what did you want to talk about? Is it more training? A new spell? Are you getting weaker??" I asked.

"I'm just fine, I just wanted to tell you, since your 21st birthday is coming up, your final training courses will be up soon. Soon you'll be one step closer to being a fully fledged Guardian." He smiled.

"Fully fledged?! B-but what will happen to you?"

"Only time will tell but I just wanted to get it out of the way while I still can…before I'm bound to a bed or wheelchair for the rest of my days."

"That is true…" my ears drooped.

"Don't be so doubtful of your abilities either, I know you'll do well and make a name for yourself."

"If you say so, may I ask why? Why so soon?" I looked at him with concern.

"There have been some…changes in the world and I need you and your siblings to investigate it further in my stead. I fear it may be more that I can handle on my own." He adjusted in his seat, fiddling with the top of his cane.

I nodded as my thoughts began to wander about. Why now? Why me? Are my siblings and I ready for such responsibilities? Am I truly ready…? I guess only time will tell of my predicament. Then the sound of the slamming employee door brought me back to reality again. There stood Flash with drinks in hand near us.

"Oi! I just got off! Where are we going? Sounded important Uncle Hobbs" Flash cracked a smile.

"…I wish your father didn't teach you that nickname…" Uncle Laurence chuckled out a sigh as he prepared to get up, "We're gonna head out to the Council House to address certain matters that have popped up in different regions of our world. Important matters."

"Sweet…road trip" Flash smirked as she handed us our drinks before sipping on hers.

"Will others be joining us?" I spoke up.

"I've already briefed Gavin of the situation early this morning but it's up to you to see what you want to do after this meeting." He announced as he got up with a wobble. Urion caught his arm as he leaned.

"Steady…" Urion said in a calm monotone voice.

"You really are like your mother, young one" Laurence smiled as he stood tall before looking at me. "My leg hasn't given out completely yet! I'll be fine, Lil Dove."

"If you say so but if you ever feel weak, I'll make sure Auntie Atla gives you an ear full when she gets the chance!" I giggled.

"But I'm only in my late forties~" he said in a sing-song tone.

"Forty going on eighty…" Flash smirked while sipping her coffee. Uncle Laurence tilted his cane to trip her up while being stable. Nearing spilling the coffee in the process as Flash walked into the trap.

I snickered as I saw the stumbling act. Flash was glaring forwards as we walked out of the coffee shop together.

★★★★★

After fifteen to twenty minutes of walking down the sidewalks of Yoitz, we arrived at the Council House downtown. Walking down the ivory carpeted hallways of the building we made it to a meeting room. Along the way my anxiety was being tossed left and right. I was just a little nervous ball and Flash just sipped away, holding my hand. As soon as we all sat down, Uncle Laurence pulled out some documents pertaining to the situations he mentioned.

"Since you two will be 21 in a few months, I figured I should share some important information with you to lighten my load a bit. You are old enough to shoulder a reasonable task at hand. My Guardian duties are not a walk in the park." He had a saddened look on his face before he took a deep breath and lets out a tired sigh.

"W-Why? What's going on?" My stutter slipped into my words.

Uncle Laurence opened up the folder he had in his bag, "We don't know the complete story but there has been a rise of Gryffin activity near the north west coast of Scavaheim, near the port town of Hearth Harbor. The locals there have been getting worried with the Test of Bravery coming up at the end of the month."

"What are a bunch of big birds gonna do huh? The Scavens are Giants are they not?!" Flash hissed.

Uncle Laurence glanced at Flash with a stern look, "Yes but they're sacred animals to the patron deity in the area and there's not much they can do besides defend and scare them off."

"Is there something we can do? What about Auntie Atla? What is she doing on the matter?" I spoke up.

"I have sent her to look into the matter but she may need your help for future insights while she takes care of the Test of Bravery." He looked at us.

"Don't you want to…ya know…meet her?" Flash spoke in a sarcastic-like tone, raising an eyebrow.

"As much as I would LOVE to see her, I've already been told off by her to stay and rest up. She gave me an earful earlier this week…" he said in a defeated way. Good job Auntie.

"Well she is your wife and the Guardian of Bravery! Of course she's looking out for your well being!" I chuckled.

"She's stubborn, that's what she is…" he giggled out a smile.

"Who all will be going with us to Scavaheim?" Flash drank the last of her coffee and tossed it in the trash.

"Your sister Terri will be joining you along with Gavin for good measure. Terri will also be joining in this year's Test of Bravery among other young Scavens. You'll prepare to leave by the end of the week." Laurence said with a serious tone.

"We'll do just that Sir, you can count on us!" I nodded a smile.

"I know I can, just try your best and lead them" Laurence placed a hand on my shoulder and then we hugged. We hugged for a short while before Flash, Urion and I left the building with the report.

My stomach began to flip flop in my body. My worries must really want to become real as I held my, possibly cold by now, hot chocolate. This will be my first time traveling without my parents or my uncle outside the kingdom. I try to calm myself by putting documents in my bag and sipping on my drink. A message notification got me out of my thoughts again. I looked at my phone to see a message from my adoptive brother, Gavin. He felt more like a friend than a brother but more or less he lived in the castle with us, and now he has his own place. I tapped on the notification to see what he wanted.

[ Hey you ok? Just got off from work ]

[ Yeah… just a little worried…was in a meeting with Flash and Urion. He looked super bored lol ]

[ Overwhelming huh? ]

[ …Yeah… ]

[ Pizza or Steak? ]

[ Pizza plz ]

[ No problem, see you soon. Be careful coming over ]

[ Thanks Gavin, see ya ]

"That your boyfriend~~~?" Flash was leaning over with a sneaky smirk, looking at my phone.

"AH!? NO!!" I retaliated.

"Jeez!!! I'm kidding! I know it's Gavin…" Flash chuckled, "I'll see you soon, I'll find my own way home, you take Urion to Gavin's"

"Thanks, I'll save you a slice" I smiled and walked in the direction of Gavin's apartment with Urion.

As we walked I could tell Urion was looking at me. Poor thing always worries in silence. I gave him a soft smile as I held his hand for good measure. I could tell his non-existent tail was wagging on his human form before he turned into a wolf again. We soon arrived at the apartment complex, I buzzed us into the building. Urion stood close to me as we walked to the door and I unlocked it with my spare key. There stood Gavin setting up the coffee table with pizzas and drinks. He turned around and smiled his signature gentle grin. He sure does know how to host guests that's for sure.

"Welcome Home, Your Highness" he spoke in a joking matter as he gestured to the coffee table and couch.

"Ha Ha very funny, you know me butthead" I chuckled and gave him a big hug.

As he hugged back, he breathed out a chuckle, "I know, just wanted to hear you laugh Kat. How did you fare on the way here?"

"Her aura seems tense and unsure…" Urion spoke up as his fluffy butt laid next to Gavin's wolf, Acadia.

"Urion…" I pouted. "Yeah…it was nerve-racking…"

"It must be hard to jump this far into training" Gavin sat down.

"Well I'll be traveling with you, Flash, and Terri to Scavaheim! It's been a while since I've been there and let alone without mom or dad…" I hugged myself.

"Don't worry about a thing, we take this one step at a time and enjoy the more…brighter sides of the mission, ok?" Gavin smiled.

"Right…I'll try…" I nodded and sat beside him, "I'm glad I won't be alone in this whole ordeal…but… I'm worried about Uncle Laurence's condition. I wish he would just get better somehow…"

"I'm sure he'll be fine until the celebration comes around. He's too stubborn to die just yet." Gavin chuckled. "You're smart, Kat, I know you'll figure things out in no time"

I smiled as he handed me a plate of food. I nodded in agreement as I took a few bites of my food and a few sips of my drink. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the wiggle of a controller. I smirked and grabbed it. We played games and had fun late into the night. Dwindling my anxiety away, fizzling out my worries. The mission ahead will be tough, I know that, but with my family around me to help guide me is all the courage I need for now. A new beginning of being a Guardian will be a long and hard road and I also know it's a fruitful one. Who knows…I might meet someone new to help us and be friends? Only the future will tell. Scavaheim here I come!

( not my image, just a placer until I can make art, it's a Google image)

[stateofsport211]

Francavilla al Mare Ch QF: Titouan Droguet [1] def. Gabriele Piraino [WC] 7-5, 6-1 Match Stats

📸 ATP official website

G. Piraino initially took control as T. Droguet misfired his backhands early in the first set, but the latter took time to absorb some pace before bringing the former off-balance, as evident in the tenth and twelfth game of the second set. As he became steadier, he took the ball deeper (with more anticipation) while outhitting the Italian wild card, thus the latter became more erratic despite his slight comeback attempt by the last game. As a result, the French first seed generated 6 break points, converting 67% of them compared to G. Piraino's 50% break point conversion rate out of his 2 break points, mostly at the start of the match.

Furthermore, T. Droguet also had stable serving games in this match. This was demonstrated through his exceptional first serve percentages, as he won 82% of his first serve points compared to G. Piraino's 55%, also aided by his 2 aces outside of his unreturned serves to make it even more effective. On the other hand, despite double-faulting just once, the Frenchman won 16% more points on his second serves compared to G. Piraino, which highlighted the latter's second-serve vulnerability as the match progressed due to his constant rushings.

In the semifinals, T. Droguet will face Franco Agamenone, who defeated qualifier and also first-time quarterfinalist Ryan Nijboer 6-4, 6-0 in the quarterfinal match earlier today. This could be interesting to see how their aggression and point construction pan out, but this depends on their execution consistency to see how everything unfolds. One of the bigger matches of the day, should be fun to follow what's next in this match!

[westrangecollectionkoalaposts]

Reading HOFAS

CH 7, 8 9:

A large subterranean river, if the sound was this loud even up here. Bits of spray floated from the darkness, the damp air laced with a thick, metallic scent—iron. There must have been deposits of it down here.

Nesta said with equal quiet, “That bridge is the perfect place for an ambush.” Bryce turned to her in surprise. “You’ve never been down this way?” Nesta cut her a look. “No. No one has.”

How tf a place that can be accesed through the palace's dungeons has never been found before until now? This shit is at least 1400 years old.

“Who’d you piss off to get sent to retrieve me, anyway?”

it starts with r and ends with d, which also makes a group which's name starts with i and ends up with e, now the reasons? she is the only who is not kissing rice's ass

She could have sworn Nesta’s lips curved into a smile. “On a good day, too many people to count. But today … I volunteered.”

7 if you count Elain, also, if Nesta piss you off, you thank her.period

A new noise, barely audible above the rapids’ roar. Talons skittering over stone. From above and below.

that is probably just the ugly puppies from earlier, don't worry

“Hurry.” Nesta drew that plain-yet-remarkable sword. At the touch of her hand, silver flames skittered down the blade and—

So...

An enormous worm, gleaming with water and mud. A mouth full of rows of teeth opened wide and snapped

Who was the dumb fuck who put the firstbook's worm in side the hewn city's mountain, also, how the fuck nobody have ever saw that shit? or nesta said nobody knew about that bc riceman didn't know, which makes sense as he might got there for only a few hours each couple of months, yet mor was born in that city and also knows shit? then who made the bridge? somebody has to know

As the tang of more blood filled the air. Until the worm at last began sinking down, down, down. Back toward the river and wherever its lair lay below.

So there is a river inside that mountain, a river that is much probably also hewn city's water supply, were a fucking worm lives in there, and nobody knew it

Displeasure and something like disappointment filled Nesta’s pretty face as she said, “You froze out there.”

It doesn't sound like something nesta would complain, especially as she also froze in front of that water thing in the Middle

“Theia was High Queen of these lands. Before she left,”

Wasn't canon that only males could be high whatever or is this something sjm forgot or is that something like a curse on females, i think the forgot option is more probably

But Nesta began walking into the tunnel once more—not waiting for Bryce or her star to light the way. “You’ve gotten us into enough of a mess as it is,”

If someone had simply used his fucking telepath like someone with minimun inteligence, that wouldn't be happening.

“What you were born to do—to accomplish the task for which your father brought you into existence,” Apollion said before fading into nothing, leaving Aidas standing alone before the prisoners. Shock reared up in Hunt, dampened by the weight of an old, unbidden hurt. “I have no father.” Aidas shook his head. “The black crown once again circling your brow is not a new torment from the Asteri. It has existed for millennia.”

Is Hunt's father Jesus?

when Nesta lifted an arm. Silver flame wreathed her fingers. Bryce backed away a step. It echoed in Nesta’s eyes as she laid her hand on the stone wall. Silver fire rippled over the carvings. Mechanisms clicked—and misfired. Rusty metal bolts shot from the walls. Or tried to. They barely cleared the wall before they melted into dust

if that is only a small part of power she was left with, imagine her full power.

Fae kneeling before impossibly tall, robed humanoids,

avatar aliens

“Why you stumbled into our world.” Rhysand or the others must have filled Nesta in on everything before siccing her on Bryce.

i am pretty sure they didn't

“I told you earlier: We don’t know. Until you crept past the beasts, even Rhys didn’t know this tunnel existed

I think there are many rooms in the palace he isn't aware as well

Nesta asked, “Why not let me get impaled earlier? You could have let me walk right into a trap and run.”

nesta, not everyone acts like someone from ic... my poor baby

“I have no reason to want you dead.” “Yet you ran from the cell.”

of course, imagine if bryce had a exposed broken bone and instead of nesta, it was rhysand the one to show up....

“I know how interrogations tend to end.” “No one was going to torture you.”

nesta, just look at az...

Nesta’s eyes gleamed like a cat’s in the dimness.

[geometricalien]

beautiful creatures ch 1 

really only noticed this bc i rewatched the movie this morning for the first time in 6 years but i was surprised by how much opening “small town” narration was pulled straight from ethan’s pov, it was a nice surprise bc i genuinely think ethan is one of the best characters of the series so its nice that his essence was preserved there. 

HOWEVER should’ve had a band sing sixteen moons major major misfire producer/director/writer/whothefuckever

also link my beloved you have a character- a shitty bruh who wants you to check out his new song on soundcloud but its a character!! 

also god the fact that ethan wakes up from his dreams about lena covered in dirt???? fantastic detail, the dirt under his nails, pushing the thought from his mind gahhhh boys about to be haunted :3 

[levi-venn]

The First Toothpick

Chapter 2: "Misfire"

Gen Fic - Mentor/Protege

Characters: Cad Bane, Crosshair (the kid), Tech.

Summary: Cad Bane teaches Crosshair how to be a sniper. The kid picks up some other habits as a result.

Chapter Summary: Crosshair can handle his first jump to hyperspace...until he can't.

Available on AO3 here

Chapters: Ch 1 | Ch 2 | Ch 3 | Ch 4 | Ch 5 | Ch 6 | Ch7 | Ch8 | Ch9 |

Crosshair knelt beside his bunk, packing his bag quietly.

The bag had actually been packed for months now. It was a standard bug-out bag filled with provisions, jumpsuits, a short-range comm set, and a first aid kit. Still, he moved the contents around. Checking and rechecking the inventory list. Drawing it out for as long as it took for Fett to look for him.

Behind him Hunter and Wrecker threw each other to the ground on the training mat, punching and tickling each other, challenging the other to say “I surrender” first. Half the time this game ends in exhaustion and no victor…or tears from Wrecker and Hunter relenting to calm him down. 

Pulling out a small box hidden at the foot of his bunk, Crosshair looked through his Max Reebo discs, deciding which ones to bring. Would he have time to listen to music? It calmed him down during the worst storms on Kamino. Where was he going? Would it be loud? Would it be bright?

Am I being punished?

“Where are you going?” Said a clipped Core World accent that his brother, Tech, had been practicing for weeks.

Crosshair didn’t turn around. “Out.”

“That…is evident,” Tech huffed, kneeling beside Crosshair. “Don’t take the discs. If you break them, they’ll be gone forever. It was hard enough smuggling them in.”

Crosshair put the discs away, and instead pulled out a small, torn poster of Figrin D'an And The Modal Nodes. Written in silver marker were the words: “To Crosshair, the best sniper  - Figrin D’an”. Tech said the personalized autograph was authentic, but Crosshair recognized Tech’s handwriting when he saw it, the too-neat s’s, the perfectly circular o’s. 

It was his prized possession.

He refolded the poster and tucked it into his pocket.

“They’re sending me away to train with a bounty hunter.”

“Well, that sounds exciting.”

Crosshair grunted quietly. 

“Is it not exciting?” Tech pressed.

Crosshair recounted his ration bars.

“Crosshair?” Tech asked. 

“Don’t call me that.”

“Well I’m not using what the Regs call you. It’s not accurate.”

“Yeah?” Crosshair snarled, defensively. “I knew your eyesight was bad, but even you saw how shitty I did in the last test. I dropped my rifle! It fell thirty meters and blasted a hole through the scoreboard.” 

Tech flinched a little at the eyesight comment. Crosshair flinched, too.

“My sight isn’t the issue and your name isn’t ‘Misfire’. Mistakes happen. Everyone makes them.”

“Not Regs, apparently. Just me. I’m the reason they call us the Bad Batch.”

“That isn’t true. They call us that because…” Tech frowned as if searching for an adequate answer. The longer he stalled the worse Crosshair felt. “...Jealousy for one,” Tech said, finally. “ And I heard on some planets people say ‘bad’ when they mean ‘good’. ‘Badassery’ is a word I’ve heard the seasoned clones say many times.”

“You’re making that up.”

Tech tugged at his new goggles magnifying his eyes three fold. “I never make up fun facts, you know this.”

Crosshair didn’t answer right away.

He didn’t trust his voice not to crack.

Blinking away tears was second nature to Crosshair, especially recently with the slew of mistakes he’d been making. He blinked rapidly at Tech, then threw his arms around him in a gruff hug. “Take care of yourself while I’m gone. Don’t let Wrecker push you around. If he gets too rough, tell Hunter.”

“I can fight my own battles,” Tech huffed. “...But I’ll miss you too.”

The door slid open and Crosshair immediately let his brother go. 

“Let’s go, CT-9904,” Fett said. 

Crosshair gave Tech a gentle punch on the arm. “See you soon,” he lied. He had no idea when he’d be back. Maybe months or years . 

What if I never see him again?

“What? Crosshair’s leaving?” Hunter asked, voice muffled through the headlock Wrecker trapped him in. 

Crosshair walked out behind Fett, clutching the straps of his bug-out bag and sniper rifle tightly. He didn’t look back.

“Where’s he goin’?” Wrecker asked as the door closed behind him.

It was hard not to stare at the blue alien walking alongside him. His eyes were perfectly round glowing bulbs set behind mean, narrow slit eyelids. He had no nose, his lips were thin and grim, fangs razor sharp, and his brow was one long ridge that raised and lowered dramatically with his mood. The left ridge raised at Crosshair. 

“What’s the matter, kid? Never seen a Duros before?”

Crosshair looked away. A Duros. He committed this to memory so he could tell Tech all about him when he got back. 

If I come back…

The docking platform’s doors opened and suddenly the Duros was the second most interesting thing Crosshair had seen that day.

Ship designs were an important part of Crosshair’s daily studies, mostly how to take them down in a dogfight. He’s seen hundreds of ships in his lessons. He’s never seen any ship like this. It reminded him of the scorpions of Tatooine, the engine raised like a threatening stinger, wings spread like they’d sprout claws to grab unsuspecting prey.

He almost smiled.

The Duros must have noticed. “Welcome to the Justifier , kid.” 

The ramp came down and Crosshair all but ran inside. His squad had been in simulation pods, but only Reg cadets were allowed trips on dropships. Hunter said they’d have plenty of time to fly in ships later, one day they’d have a ship of their own. For special missions. Crosshair remained skeptical. Hunter said a lot of things.

If Tech were here, he’d probably tell Crosshair exactly what kind of ship it was, the specs inside, how quickly it can prep a jump to hyperspace, the brand of the main compressor and what year it was made.

“Have a seat and strap in. Make yourself comfy, but not too comfy. This here’s temporary lodgings until we get to the ranch.”

Ranch? What’s a ranch?  

Crosshair said nothing. 

Cad hit the control panel and the ramp shrank back into the ship’s belly, the door sliding shut. Crosshair thought - too late - to take one last look at Kamino before it was gone. By the time he turned around, the door was shut. That was it. No goodbyes. 

There was a small puddle at his feet where the cool, crisp rain had collected. 

He put the toe of his boot in it.

It rippled.

“Strap in, kid. This ol’ girl gets a’might bumpy at Jump. Don’t reckon Jango’ll pay me if you’re a splatter on the wall.”

There were four seats in the common area with proper straps. Crosshair climbed into the largest one. There were claw marks on the edges of the armrest. 

“That’s Bossk’s chair,” Cad said, grabbing the buckles and straps, handing them to Crosshair. “He ate the last person who tried to steal his spot.”

Crosshair snorted. 

Cad wasn’t laughing. 

Crosshair’s face fell. 

“Don’t worry. I won’t tell him who sat here last,” Cad sneered. 

While Crosshair strapped himself in, Cad watched, as if to make sure he did it properly. It was a four strap system that fastened to a disc over his chest. The disc was new, but the straps looked ancient. They didn’t fit crisply like they did in the simulation pods.

“Need help?”

“I know how to secure straps,” Crosshair said, irritably.

“Yeah? All I see are fumbling fingers. Hurry up, before the storm pushes us off the platform.”

Crosshair rolled his eyes, his vision hitting a snag when he noticed the chair across from him was covered in small cuts, the leather melted as if assaulted by a vibroblade. “A.S. Wuz Here.” was carved in the chair back.

“Who is A.S.?” Crosshair asked, securing the fourth strap after a bit of adjusting. It popped out as soon as he let go.

Cad knelt down and batted Crosshair’s hand away, securing each strap then tightening them until Crosshair felt like he was part of the chair. “That’d be Aurra Sing. Be thankful Jango asked me to train you and not her. She hates kids.”

Crosshair raised a skeptical eyebrow. “And you like them?”

“No. Not really.”

“Me neither,” Crosshair said, thinking of the Regs whispering and snickering at him whenever he walked by.

Cad snorted or maybe scoffed. It was hard to tell. “Well, we’re gonna get along just fine then.” He tilted his hat up, his glowing red eyes seemed to give off a menacing heat, or maybe Crosshair was just nervous. 

I want to make people nervous like this. With just a look. A mean look. 

“I got two rules on this ship: Stay out of the cockpit. Stay out of my quarters. Everywhere else is fair game. Follow that n’ we’ll get along fine. Break a rule, you get a trip to the airlock. Sound good?” 

Authority figures often threatened him and his brothers with punishment whenever they broke a rule, but this was the first time Crosshair actually believed an adult would follow through on a threat. 

He nodded. “Yes, sir.”

“Don’t sir me. Bane’s fine.”

Was Fett the only person allowed to call him “Cad”?

Crosshair decided not to ask.

“Yes, Bane,” Crosshair said.

Seemingly pleased, Bane gave a final tug to Crosshair’s straps and stood up. “Brace yourself.”

Brace himself? What did that mean? Panic was starting to sink into his bones. He had never been on a ship before. He had never been in hyperspace before. The clone troopers had armor for a reason when flying their ships. The g-forces could kill them without it. And Crosshair was in a jumpsuit. He wouldn’t get armor until he graduated to adulthood. 

He shut his eyes as the ship started to hum and whirr all around him.

Tech wouldn’t panic. 

Tech would adjust those new goggles of his.

What would Tech say?

Probably say something snarky like…“Obviously, you don’t need armor if Cad Bane is wearing clothes pulled directly out of a ‘Fistful of Credits’ holodrama.”

It made him feel better…

…for all of five seconds. 

There was a high-pitched squeal like a broken valachord, the pressure hitting his chest like Wrecker was sitting on it. 

Two Wreckers maybe…

…three…

Dark space clouded his vision.

I’m fine. Tech would be fine. I’m going to be f-

He passed out.

“Another black eye?” Tech asked, not looking up from his datapad. 

“Same eye, just more black,” Crosshair sneered, climbing past his own bunk and onto Tech’s. “What’re you reading?”

“Who hit you?” 

“Does it matter? Regs are all the same.”

“Hmm,” Tech flicked the holoprojector mode on and a planet, infected with an uninterrupted mass of buildings, floated in front of them. “I’m studying ecumenopolises.”

“What are they?”

“City-planets. Denon, Coruscant, Axxila, they cleared away the natural history of the planet making way for cities built upwards, the height depending on the population growth and class systems in place. Oftentimes the lower-income citizens are relegated to the lower levels of the city, or sent to the hemisphere opposite of the wealthier sectors. Weather patterns on these planets are regulated and usually temperate. 

“Looks loud,” Crosshair said, not really understanding what he meant. 

“Does it? Hmm…” Tech never made fun of Crosshair’s short, blunt statements, always considering each word carefully. Crosshair felt heard around his brother, even when he didn’t think anyone was listening. “That makes sense. Your eyes are designed to be sharper than most clones. As a sniper it’s an imperative feature. The bright flashes of lightning are too much for you. ‘Loud’ is a poetic way of looking at this planet. Yes, these cities are loud, especially Coruscant with many reflective solar-powered surfaces on their buildings. I’d hate to be stuck in traffic at dawn or dusk. I can only assume they have polarized shields for their speeders.”

Crosshair gingerly touched his cheek. It was swelling up. “Think we’ll see Coruscant one day?”

“I’m counting on it. It’s the heart of the Republic.” Tech looked up at Crosshair, brow knitting. “If Coruscant turns out to be too loud, tell me. I can construct polarized lenses for you until you grow used to it.”

Crosshair rested his chin on Tech’s shoulder, watching the planets cycle by. “Thanks, Tech.”

“Kid?”

Five more minutes, Techie…

“Hey, kid. Wake up.”

Wake Wrecker up first...

There was a click and a sudden relief of pressure on his chest. Crosshair snapped awake with a gasp, muscles tensing, his hand reaching for his sniper rifle’s strap which…wasn’t there. 

When his vision cleared, two glowing eyes stared at him under a furrowed brow. Bane was sneering again. “Welcome back. Y’know, Jango coulda warned me you’ve never made a jump to hyperspace before.”

“I’ve been in sssimulations,” Crosshair hissed. 

Bane shoved a water bottle into Crosshair’s hands then plopped himself into Aurra Sing’s chair, leaning back. He rested his boot on his ankle, slouching like a holodrama blasterslinger.

Crosshair slouched too…but his legs were too short to pull off the same position.

“Drink.”

Crosshair did, not realizing how thirsty he was until the cold water hit his throat. It’s never cold in the facility. Everything is room temperature. Even the food.

“Guess they don’t add artificial G-forces to the sims, huh? I reckon, this old ship’ll probably hit ya harder than any government-issued starfighter would.”

“It’s no big deal,” Crosshair hissed again, his irritation showing through with the small impediment.

Bane tilted his head, amusement spreading across those thin lips. Somehow, the expression wasn’t as infuriating as the sneers the Regs threw at him. It felt…knowing. Maybe this was a normal reaction to someone’s first hyperspace jump.

“We’ll be on Dantooine in a couple of hours.”

Crosshair perked up. A location. Dantooine. It sounded familiar.

“Is that a…” Crosshair frowned. “An…Acutetopolis?”

By Bane’s blank stare, Crosshair knew he pronounced the damn word wrong. “Nevermind.”

“A what?” Bane asked, brow ridge raised.

Crosshair felt his ears grow hot with answer. “I sssaid nevermind.”

“Starsdamn, kid, you really give up too easy. You wanna know somethin’, just ask again.”

“Is it a city-planet?” Crosshair tried again.

“Ah, an ecumenopolis,” Bane said. “And no. It ain’t. The opposite actually. We’re goin’ to one of my old hideout for yer training. Somewhere you can get a real lesson of what life’s like outside yer little sterile world. By the time we’re done, you’ll be able to snipe shit off a fly’s back.”

Crosshair was a little disappointed it wasn’t a city-planet, but then again Tech hadn’t made him his special goggles yet. And with the promise of being a better sniper? Maybe this wasn’t a punishment after all.

He took another sip of water. 

“So…” Bane reached into his belt and pulled out a toothpick, popping it into his mouth. “You've never been off-planet, but you know about ecumenopolises. What else did they teach ya about the galaxy at large?”

“That’s classified,” Crosshair responded automatically.

“Ya sound like yer old man.”

“My what?”

“Yer dad. Jango Fett.”

“We don’t have parents. I’m a copy of Fett. Engineered to be an elite sniper.”

Bane snorted a laugh. “Well ain't that some rote kraytspit.”

Crosshair wished Tech could tell him what “rote” meant. He stayed quiet.

“So is that why you look like that? Why you sound like that?”

Even the Regs had asked him why his voice was modulated. Someone said he sounded like a rabid rattlesnake. It wasn’t supposed to be a compliment, but Crosshair took it as one. “I’m engineered to be quiet. So I’m quiet.”

“Can’t call out for help then?”

“We have comms.”

“What if you need to shout, though?”

“My blaster rifle shouts for me.”

“Heh,” Bane cracked a smile. “Got an answer for everythin’, huh?”

Crosshair didn’t answer that.

“You ever meet Boba?”

“Who?”

“So…Jango keeps his precious little son away from the soldiers. Figures…”

“I’m not just a solider, that’s what the Regs are,” Crosshair snarled. “I’m in an elite squad. I’m built to be spec…special .” It was a shitty time for his voice to crack, but Crosshair hated that word. “Special”. 

But it’s the word the trainers used. It’s the word the scientists used. If he wasn't Special, he was a failure.

Bane dropped his leg and leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees. He noticed that slip-up too. “Special, huh? Best of the best?”

“Look out, here comes Misfire.”

All the Reg cadets hit the deck, then rolled over laughing.

“It’s just what they tell me.” Crosshair murmured.

“So ya don’t think yer all that special?” Bane asked.

“The bad batch! Why do they look like that? Why does he hiss like that? Were their tubes cracked? Bet they don’t last past year five.”

Crosshair shrugged, clutching the empty water bottle now. He picked at the label.

“That’s yer problem, kid. Ya lack conviction. No spine. Too embarrassed to ask about city-planets because you fucked up a mouthful of a word like ‘ecumenopolis’, ya get frazzled seein’ droids swarmin’ yer bell tower. Bet your head’s tellin’ ya all sorts of things. A whole heap of voices cloggin’ up your focus. Or maybe it’s not your voice…maybe it's the other kiddos? They got nicknames for ya, kid?”

“My name’s not kid,” Crosshair growled, the bottle crinkling in his grip.

“Oooh,” Bane sneered. “There’s a lil bite to your bark. Alright, fine, but I ain’t callin’ ya by a bunch of numbers. What’d ya wanna be called?”

“Crosshair? Nah, you’re Misfire. And that’s because “Shaky Sniper” is too long.”“We could call him Shaky.”

The whole table erupted in laughter.

Crosshair stopped at the table. He handed his milk to Tech. He calmly placed his sandwich and apple on the table, then tested the weight of the tray.

Satisfied, he slammed the tray into the laughing Regs’ faces. One, two, three Regs fell off the bench seat to the ground. The fourth Reg ran away reporting to the Lieutenant on duty. 

The sight of Regs crying usually cheered Crosshair up, but he was branded “Misfire” now. 

No one was going to see him differently.

“CT-9904,” he tried. 

“Nope. 'Kid' it is,” Cad said, standing up. “Get some rest. Find somethin’ to eat. Soon as we land we’re gonna be up to our eyeballs in fabools. Better be ready.”

What’s a fabool?

Crosshair opened his mouth…could hear Regs laughing at the hiss in his voice...then shut his mouth again.

“Fuck’s sake, kid, stop bein’ yellabellied and ask me.”

“What’s a fabool?”

Bane sneered. “You’ll see.” And with that he climbed up the ladder towards the cockpit, shutting the hatch behind him.

Crosshair grumbled. “Cheeky prick.”

Whatever a fabool was, he hated was gonna hate it. 

And I’m not yellabellied either , Crosshair thought. Whatever that means.