#claudia has never fucked nate so she is not

[murdockdevil-goooonnne]

Send 📱 for five texts my muse didn’t send yours, and one that they did (anthony and claud)

for: @ohwritewho: claudia dardashti muñoz & anthony muñoz. mentions of nathaniel ambrose. verse: remember the name (the future timeline where cloud and ant are married) notes: ✌️cloud likes to get even & she hates nate lol. triggers: idk. swearing?

Her mother would tell her that ‘stupider’ isn’t a word. Yet, in this moment, Cloud is certain her sister, Amya, would tell her that she was being stupider than usual by going after Anthony’s nemesis on her own. 

While she technically can still heal...lately, her healing abilities have been slower than ever due to that bastard fuck of a man people call a shadow poisoning her. She knows Anthony would agree with her sister, but the thing with Cloud is she’s always had a knack for getting even. And she’s never been the type who says ‘An eye for an eye makes the whole world blind’ because, well, Gandhi sucked as a person. So, an eye for an eye may as well be her mantra at this point. And one she’s not afraid to act on.  

[ 9:00pm ] — Don’t wait up for me. I’m visiting Amya and won’t be back until tomorrow. 

She scrunches her nose as the cold wind hits her skin. Though she should be more careful in the dark, since she has more than a few of her own enemies, and again, is taking forever to heal, she can’t help but to be a little reckless. 

But the recklessness in her does not think that lie will work on the private investigator, so she does not send the text. She tries again, walking along the sidewalk in her coat, her boots tapping against the pavement as her fingers type against keys. 

[ 9:10pm ] — Don’t worry about me. You know I’ll be fine. I’m fine.

'Fine' makes her crinkle her nose. It’s a liar’s word. The type of word that gives away that she’s not okay and doing something stupid. 

[ 9:15pm ] — How do people live their lives so cautiously? It’s irritating. 

A sigh from her. It’s too simple. Too indirect. 

[ 9:23pm ] — I don’t really care if I die for real this time. Someone needs to take the bastard down. 

She sighs. Now she’s coming off as too much. This sort of text will make him rush over to her somehow. Because he’ll find a way, he always does.

[ 9:30 pm ] — On n’est jamais mieux servi que par soi-même.

She sends that instead. The words basically translating to 'If you want something done right, do it yourself.' and since he's bad at French, it'll take him some time to get it.

And while It’s worse than the other texts. Cheesy, too - but who really cares - she’s already at the bar she knows Nate will be at. So, she closes her phone and marches right in, looking just about done with the world in that very moment, and ready to take it on, too.

[agaywadarchive]

the fact that rachel temperance is a c/lown fucker is wild. like he doesn't dress like a clown in front of her. BUT HE'S A CLOWN. i can't

[temporallydisplacedvictorian]

WH13 - "War of the Worlds" - Premise - @rpwarehouse13-myka

There had been riots in Queens, New York City. That in itself wasn't peculiar. The peculiar part was how they'd happen. Whole blocks would claim they'd heard on the radio that the world was ending. That the ailens had landed or there was a nuclear war or something like that. And they'd panic. They'd riot. Deaths and tramplings happened.

It didn't take a genius to figure out what was going on. The riots started the same week that the original recording of Orson Wells's "War of the Worlds" was played at a special event at the Museum of the Moving Image . All the victims had been at that even. They'd all heard the recording. The case seemed so straight forward.

Artie dispatched Myka and Claudia with simple orders. Go to New York City. Bag and Tag Orson Wells original recording of War of the Worlds from where it was on exhibition at the Museum of the Moving Image in Queens. Come home. But it was never that easy, was it? Because they got the recording. They bagged it. And just as they we're headed for the plane home, another incident happened. Another riot caused by unexplained mass hysteria. Another victim and as trampled and died. A victim who hadn't been to hear the "War of the Worlds" radio play.

The recording wasn't the artifact.

The investigation had to begin all over again.

So they set off to the police station to examine the victim.

New York City - NYPD Forensics Lab - 2017

Helena had managed to establish herself in the past three years. After the incident, Nate had kicked her out almost right away. She'd tried to tell him the truth that night..but he wouldn't hear it. He didn't want her near Adelaide. He thought her crazy and gave her an ultimatum. Be gone by morning or he'd have her arrested and locked up as insane. She had a healthy ninteenth century fear of the asylum. So she packed all her things into two bags and drove away.

Loosing Nate barely hurt at all. But losing Adelaide, loosing another daughter, that nearly killed her. And once again, she hadn't even gotten to say goodbye. Once again, she was a loose end in the world, with no where to go and nothing to turn to. She wanted to turn around and go home. The warehouse, the only home she'd ever knew called to her. But she'd been told in no uncertain terms by Mrs Fredrick, "Stay away." So she drove east. She drove east for three days straight.

And she ended up in New York City. What better place to dissapear entirely? Her first night there, trying to drown the memory of daughters lost in she met a beauty with big dark eyes, cinnamon skin and long dark curls.

Jasmine.

Jasmine let her pour out her heart, and Jasmine took it in hand. She took Helena in hand and into her home.

Jasmine was an exotic dancer. Jasmine sold pills and powders and tar that reminded Helena of opium. Molly. X. Cocaine. Heroin. Things that put the opium of her past to shame. And, alone and vunerable, Helena gladly gave herself over to the abandoned hedonism of Jasmine's world, and for a few glorious months, she burried her entire history in sex and drugs. For a few glorious months the children she'd lost, the friends gone, the time she'd spent frozen, it all was lost to the fog of powders and pills and softness of Jasmine's thighs. But such empty bliss wasn't meant to last.

One drunken night she confessed to Jasmine. Her history. Her real name. Everything. And it didn't work out any better this time. Jasmine freaked out. She said she didn't fuck with crazy bitches, and tossed Helena and her two bags out on the curb.

She walked all that night, till the substance and grief cleared from her mind. And in the morning, she found herself sitting on her suitcases, in a park along the river, watching the sunrise as the last of her tears dried on her cheeks. She'd done this once before. With opium, a french actress named Lilly, and her Christina. That morning along the Thames was when she'd been recruited into Warhouse 12.

But that was over a century ago. And this time, no one was coming to save her. The world wasn't coming to give her purpose. The world was empty like that. Everything she thought she'd loves and lived for had left her. So she resolved not to make that mistake ever again.

She started over.

Helena was dead. Emily Lake was dead. She would dissapear and truly try again. No children. No Warehouse.

This time she was Doctor Christina Griffin. Griffin. The invisible woman. She kept on as a forensic scientist. She liked it. She liked solving problems and helping people. She got a job with the NYPD. She got a lab office of her own. She got a small apartment uptown. She rescued a cat and named it Cataranga. She took spin classes. Went out with friends from work. Picked up an American accent. Went on un successful tinder dates. Made a facebook. Listened to a lot of music. Got a library card. She wrote a perspectives column for Jezebel.com. She got her life together for the first time in her life. No secrets. No horror.

And she was....well....happy wasn't the word. She'd known happiness only twice in her life. At the warehouse. But she was alright. She wasn't in pain. And that was something.

It was shaping up to be a pretty normal day in her lab. There was a body on her slab. A trampling death. It would be a fascinating anatomical example, even if there wasn't much of a mystery to solve.

She hid her hair beneath her hairnet, put on her face mask, goggles, gloves and lab coat, put her 19th century opera mix on, and made the y incision.

And then she smelled fudge. How bizarre. The man's insides smelled of fudge. Slowly she peeled back organs, looking for a source. But there was none. The man's organs just.... inexplicably smelled of fudge and.....was that....apples?

Just then the door to her lab burst open and she jumped, startled, letting out a small, undignified yelp. Nearly dropping the liver she was trying to weigh.

"Christina?" It was just the floor manager. He looked both sheepish and put out. And rightly so.

"Christ, Roger, you nearly stopped my heart! What?"

"There's some people from the CIA here interested in this death. Should I let them in?" He asked dully. Roger hated outside interference in the labs.

Helena nodded, and he left with a sigh. She went to wash her hands, but before she had even walked the six steps to the sink, the door burst open.

This time her heart stopped. It really stopped for a moment. For there, standing in her office was Myka God Damnned Bering, Claudia at her side. Her heart did a backflip. Her voice caught in her throat.

Myka just stared at her blankly.

Of course, she doesn't recognize me, helena realized. My face and hair are hidden in a sterile mask and goggles. She has no idea it's me.

Maybe that was for the best, she rationalized.

"Doctor Christina Griffin." She said in her best American accent. "Can I help you?"

[thesportssoundoff]

“Yo, this is appointment viewing”A UFC 218 preview

Joey

November 28th

Not since LAST November-December have we had two genuinely stacked PPV events back to back. UFC 217 brought the sizzle with three title fights, former champions and title contenders competing for standing and a loaded prelim slate with HWs and BWs looking to find their place in the world. UFC 218 heads to Detroit with just one title fight but with it a host of potential #1 contender clashes alongside a flat out good undercard with relevant fights and action fights all across the ledger. The headliner is a short notice clash between Max Holloway and Jose Aldo, a pretty damn good 145 lb title fight that could either solidify Max Holloway as a P4P great or reannounce Jose Aldo's return to the top of the division. Under it, all four main cards are REALLY on point with potential #1 contender clashes at HW, LW, Flyweight and SW. I can't begin to express my excitement for this bad boy much longer so let's just get right to it!

Fights: 13

Debuts: 1 (Allan Crowder)

Fight Changes/Injury Cancellations: 2 (Frankie Edgar OUT, Jose Aldo IN vs Max Holloway/Al Iaquinta OUT,  Charles Oliveira IN vs Paul Felder)

Headliners (fighters who have either main evented or co-main evented shows in the UFC):  13 (Jose Aldo, Max Holloway, Justin Gaethje, Eddie Alvarez, Alistair Overeem, Henry Cejudo, Sergio Pettis, Francis Ngannou, Michelle Waterson, Tecia Torres, Charles Oliveira, Alex Olivieira, David Teymur)

Fighters On Losing Streaks in the UFC:  1 (Angela Magana)

Fighters On Winning Streaks in the UFC:  11 (Sergio Pettis, Felice Herrig, David Teymur, Drakkar Klose, Alex Olivieira, Yancy Medeiros, Paul Felder, Tecia Torres, Max Holloway, Francis Ngannou, Alistair Overeem)

Stat Monitor for 2017:

Debuting Fighters (Current number: 41-35)- Allan Crowder

Short Notice Fighters (Current number: 23-34-1)- Jose Aldo, Charles Olivieira

Second Fight (Current number: 27-37)- Justin Willis, Dominick Reyes, Sabah Homasi

Cage Corrosion (18-13-1)- 0

Twelve Precarious Ponderings

1- We should begin with the main event which in my estimation an improvement over the Edgar/Holloway booking. To explain, while Edgar/Holloway is a fresh fight and one that would've been truly awesome, we've seen Frankie lose to Aldo twice. Aldo is the superior fighter of that we have no doubt---and so seeing Holloway/Aldo II isn't as fresh but it is a better all around fight. The first fight in my estimation is one of those clear examples of "sometimes stats lie, man." Everybody, almost like a chorus of geese on a cold Winnipeg morning, honks about Aldo winning the first two rounds and that's true but also irrelevant. Why? Because if you WATCH the fight, you can tell that the second round was a round where stats lie. Halloway had no respect for Aldo's power, he marched him down, he took to give (in my opinion he won the round) and by the end of the second round, their respective reactions heading back to their corners should've told you who was winning or about to win that fight. It wasn't Aldo.

2- I also don't buy the idea that leg kicks are some vaunted weapon which has been missing from Aldo's game and will be some deciding factor. For starters, it's not Holloway hasn't faced explosive kickers in the past. Second, it's not Aldo's leg kicks are the key weapon to what was his dominant run to begin with. They're a tool in the act but no more a tool than his amazing takedown defense and superb angles. LASTLY this is a guy who has been rocked/dropped in 3 of his last 4 fights. He's been finished in 2 of them. The only guy who hasn't finished him is a guy who has one KO stoppage in the last six years (love ya Frankie!). Aldo has plenty of ways to beat Holloway and Holloway has plenty of ways to beat him in return---but leg kicks? Not really seeing it. Aldo hasn't been this big leg kick monster since about 2013 or so. They're a sparsely used gimmick at this point.

3- I wonder if the UFC is as frustrated at the 155 lb scene as we are as fans. We have:

-A champion who doesn't seem like he's defending any time soon.

-An interim champion who seems to be torn between waiting for the neverending stop of the McGregor/UFC table dance and taking a fight that risks him losing the biggest payday of his life.

-Two fantastic 155 lb fights that could determine #1 contenders for titles that don't seem to be getting defended any time soon.

-Dustin Poirier sitting on the outside looking in after dominating Anthony Pettis plus depending on who you ask finishing/almost finishing Eddie Alvarez.

Making matters worser than the worst worse, you have Nate Diaz potentially malingering around, the looming threat of Max Holloway or Jose Aldo finally making a move up as well as a solid crop of 155 lb talent who aren't close to title shot contention but would in theory be closing the gap if the division wasn't held up at the top so much (the aforementioned Paul Felder, a suddenly resurgent Clay Guida, Anthony Pettis is still young enough to turn things around, too too early to write off Michael Chiesa and Kevin Lee after tough losses, Devid Teymur and the mystery that is Mairbek Taisumov).  At some point something has to give along these battle lines and I wonder if that means biting the bullet, admitting that there's a need for it and opening up 165 lbs.

3- I do think, title contention wise, it says something that Alvarez/Gaethje is 4th on the card underneath Pettis/Cejudo when it comes to relevancy. Could be nothing, could mean everything.

4- There's a lot of hype and pressure on Francis Ngannou. That's probably well deserved but as I've said perhaps one time too many, don't get caught up in the narrative if he loses. Once upon a time, Stipe Miocic got his first real big step up and he was iced in two rounds by Stefan Struve. Shawn Jordan once put Derrick Lewis on ice skates with a fat guy wheel kick. This will shock and amaze you but fighters do improve over time and at HW, nobody is ever truly a lost cause. Division lives for chaos.

5- I know I'm the weirdo in this regard but I'm really excited to see how Sergio Pettis handles the challenge that is Henry Cejudo. Of all the Duke Roufus products, Sergio is the one who seems to most fit the mold of what they want. Functional in every facet of the fight while still having the flash, sizzle and workrate to keep people interested. Cejudo's rediscovered his power recently and his boxing has looked world's better. I have cardio concerns with him as you always need to but Sergio Pettis has always had an aversion to guys who pack a shot on the feet. This fight could be really great.

6- Paul Felder's stock, which continues to go up and down depending on the time of year, is probably as high as it's been since he iced Danny Castillo way back in 2014. Felder has always been really talented but at 33, the clock's ticking on him really making a run. He's won 4 of his last 5 fights but the only guy who remains int he organization out of that group is Stevie Ray. His losses are two totally acceptable ones (a decision to Barboza where he could've probably won, a 3rd round TKO stoppage vs Francisco Trinaldo in Brazil) and one totally bemusing loss to Ross Pearson where he spun for the entire fight chasing a bonus and never got it. Felder's inconsistency is partially the reason why it's hard to feel overly confident in him vs Charles Olivieira. Do Bronx is always dangerous for a quickie sub and he showed that vs Will Brooks when he got his back and subbed him in the first round in April. Historically Charles has won to the guys he's supposed to beat and found creative insightful ways to lose to the guys he shouldn't. He's always in a fight until it's over and Felder historically leaves enough margin for error where  he could, in theory, give Do Bronx opportunities.

7- David Teymur thus far has passed every test put in front of him. He was successful in TKO-ing guys who he probably would've been fighting on the regional scene and then really broke out when he spoiled the Lando Vannata hype with a decision win in March. Teymur is one of those guys who mixes techniques well, never tries the same trick twice and has improved time and time again whenever he fights. He's a bit old for a prospect (28) and Drakkar Klose will probably be the bigger, stronger fighter but I'm excited to see what Teymur has added to his game during his time away. Dude has top 15 potential in my estimation.

8- There's going to be a lot of interest in the Waterson/Torres fight and fair play to it but I'm all about that Felice Herrig/Courtney Casey bout. I haven't been wow'd in Felice's more recent fights (never really impressed with Kish, thought Grasso won) BUT even having said that, she's finally matching her record with her boisterous personality. On the other hand, I'm all about that Courtney Casey violence. She debuted vs Joanne Calderwood on short notice and put it on her before she gassed. The same for her vs Seo Hee Ham where she started off hot and then the wheels fell off. She rebounded by finishing Christina Stanciu and has a "way more impressive in hindsight" sub of Randa Markos. A loss to Claudia Gadelha followed where she never seemed to get out of second gear and you could almost sense her upside would be "tough woman who lives on the outskirts of the top 10." She then went and beat the fuck out of Jessica Aguilar in a fight that wasn't competitive for a single minute of its duration. She is all action, all the time and Felice Herrig's size, grappling and developing hands are going to give her a real test. This fight is great.

9- Yancy Medeiros vs Alex "Cowboy" Olivieira is gonna be your favorite 90s gore action movie where it's all violence with no sense behind it. Just action figures ramming into one another.

10- Does the Ngannou/Overeem winner gets the "The UFC would like you to face Stipe Miocic on -insert date here-" sprung up on them?

11-  So Dominick Reyes is arguably the most exciting prospect at 205 lbs in a long long time---but I can't help but feel like Jeremy Kimball is going to be a step too far for him in his development. I kind of think the UFC thinks so too since it's buried on the FP prelims where a loss can almost be hidden.

12- Would a loss to Tecia Torres expose Michelle Waterson as being a PVZ-esque hype job?

Must Wins

1- Michelle Waterson

Might as well just flow from A to B, right? Waterson came into the UFC off a loss after the organization had been hounding Invicta to free her up for a while. She went 2-0 and WME-IMG actually signed her and took over as her media reps. The response off of that was a loss to Rose Namajunas where she was outmatched from the get go. Waterson says she went out for a while to get stronger and balance her aggression in the cage (she felt Rose just swarmed her from the jump and she was too timid on the feet) so hopefully we're going to see a new and improved Waterson.  She is still super markketable, talented and has exciting fights more often than not. A loss to Tecia Torres would be really tough on her career and would put a lot of things into question, primarily whether she's big enough for 115 lbs or whether this entire thing is really a new PVZ.

2- Eddie Alvarez

Alvarez exorcised a lot of demons when he beat RDA for the title and ended the bullshit about him just being a good fighter outside of the UFC who couldn't hang (loss to Cerrone and two ugly split decision wins weren't helping). He never had a chance vs McGregor where he was basically knocked out by the first left hand that landed. The last fight vs Dustin Poirier was, I suppose, the return of the Eddie Alvarez of old. He got hurt, survived, found whatever it is that makes him insane and then used it in the second round. A blatantly illegal knee ended the night for Poirier and Alvarez but for a BRIEF second, Eddie Alvarez was the man he was in all those wars. He's had a lot of wear and tear on his body from fighting great competition for little fanfare. The UFC version of Eddie Alvarez is a little smarter, a lot more chinny and the epitome of age kicking in too late to protect the body. Alvarez vs Gaethje really does feel like a battle between Eddie Alvarez retro and Eddie Alvarez off the shelf. Justin Gaethje has a ton of Alvarez in his game while being younger and hitting way harder---but does Eddie still have some magic left?

3- Dominick Reyes

205 lbs needs Dominick Reyes in the worst way. The under 30 LHW prospect got into the UFC on short notice after a viral headkick KO and he did little to disappointed in stomping out Joachim Christenson. Still I think we can admit that Christensen is ways away from being UFC quality and so Reyes still hasn't beaten someone of note. Jeremy Kimball isn't great shakes BUT he has a very deceptive record. He started his career 5-3 and since then he's gone 10-3 which includes a 1-1 stint at Bellator and wins over dudes with far more fanfare than he (TUF finalist Matt Van Buren, Cody Mumma and Chidi Njokuani all ring a bell). This is a sneaky test of Reyes' ability and I'm hoping he'll pass it.

Can't Miss Fights

1-  Justin Gaethje vs Eddie Alvarez

2- Jose Aldo vs Max Holloway

3- Francis Ngannou vs Alistair Overeem

4-Henry Cejudo vs Sergio Pettis

5- Alex  Oliveira vs Yancy Medeiros

[mfangeleeta]

Last Call for Vodka Update

Taking a pause from the super fun Some Sort of Au with @beatricethecat2 for my first update to Last Call for 2017. We’ve got a lot going on in this one. m. A one shot in my favorite universe, Somewhere in London, a season 4 cannon divergence, a cannon contemplation in two parts and alternative to the season that dare not speak its name.  This is also based on one of my all time favorite Bjork albums on repeat. Thanks for reading! 

Homogenic

If travel is searching and home what’s been found, I’m not stopping

The prep for assignments was for most the worst part of the job. You would have to study, plan, observe and repeat for months in order for things to go off without a glitch.

Or without you getting caught.

HG stood and stretched her back. She’d been working on an assignment in Peru that Yuri had begrudgingly given her. He had warned that she was too new as a solo act in the business and that this particular target had proved treacherous for the previous two people assigned this job.

One had been killed in action, the other caught and now sat in prison.

Her predecessors, despite their immense skill and experience, had clearly not set themselves up for success.  The terrain was tricky, the locals untrustworthy, and the escape routes extremely limited.

The prep was the worst part for most, for almost all but HG thrived on it. The careful study and observation, sussing out patterns and misdirection.  Finding those locals who could not only be bought but be swayed to her perception.  Creating escape routes where none thought possible.

That was what she enjoyed most, the planning. Execution was just a pull of a trigger or drop of a poison. That was the easiest part of any job. It was everything else that she lived for.

It was almost-almost-as good as an artifact hunt. Prowling the streets of London with Wolly or McShane or Donnelly.  Searching back alleys or roughing up those who weren’t corporative. Almost as good as those days.

But not quite.

Grabbing a water from the fridge she sat back down at her kitchen table. Pictures, maps and blue prints scattered behind her laptop.  Post it notes with comments and observations covering the table.  She touched a key and the computer sprang to life. It looked  as if she’d finally broken through the firewall. Soon she would have access to her target’s travel plans.

Settling in she refocused on the task at hand . Peru. The impossible target.

She was going hunting.

 You don’t have to speak, I feel

She was back, Helena was back from God knows where and Myka didn’t quite know what to do with herself.

There were hugs and some tears and an embarrassing celebration dance by Pete but Myka still couldn’t quite feel like this wasn’t some artifact induced hallucination.

In all of the excitement she’d been able to avoid speaking with Helena for any great length of time.  Despite being a member of two consecutive Warehouses there was still a considerable amount of paper work to complete and the Regents had to meet before everything could become official.

So after a mid morning surprise and a celebratory lunch in Univille, Helena had been whisked away by Artie and Mrs. Fredric and Myka was left to ponder what to do next in Summers 314.

They had never said anything or done anything that indicated that they could be more but Myka knew deep down that no one else ever had made her feel like Helena had.

A simple look would make her breath catch. A simple touch on the shoulder would make her head spin. And when she smiled.

Well, Myka didn’t want to think about those things at work.

 But they had never said or done ANYTHING that indicated they could be more.

 But why would Helena offer to sacrifice herself in the forest? And why did she keep having those horrible nightmares about Helena saving them all while she died in a fire?

For a moment she let herself remember that gut wrench dream and she nearly cried in the middle of the Warehouse.

They had never said or done anything that indicated that they could be more but Myka couldn’t wait any longer to find out.  She had to know.

Tonight after dinner, they would talk.

 I’m a fountain of blood in the shape of a girl

She loved Myka. Despite the darkness and the madness and the unquenchable thirst for the end of all things she loved Myka.  They had never discussed it, only acted on it with a few hasty and stolen kisses while on missions or at the bed and breakfast.

But her empty soul still held one spark of warmth for the thoroughly modern woman who was all that she’d hoped and dreamed for in the bronze.

Love was a distraction. A complication. Something that she was not capable of.

Yet here she was at Charles de Gaulle, the parts of the Minoan trident wrapped and packaged for transport to the Colonies.  She had been researching the most effective location for the strike and the semi-dormant caldera under Yellowstone National Park was perfect.

 She was in love with Myka Bering.

 Frowning, she pulled out her notebook to review her plans and countermeasures. The compact was already on its way to Pete’s paramour as a distraction. Knowing that Myka would never leave her partner in a desperate moment of need, she was sure she would be free to complete her mission. One that she’d dreamt about for over a century.

 The destruction of the world.

She was in love with Myka Bering.

 She had never met another who could challenge her, question her thought process while understanding it simultaneously.  Someone who could keep up with her in all aspects-mental, physical, spiritual-and was a liberated woman, free of familial and romantic entanglement.  Yes, it had taken her a few moments to process that her most beloved author was a woman but once that hurdle was overcome, it had been glorious. Not since her brother had she sparred and analyzed her thought processes for story concepts and the science behind them.

 She must avenge her daughter and reset this Godforsaken world.

She was in love with Myka Bering.

 Baby, you can’t handle love, it’s obvious

She supposed this was the anger part the five stages of grief.  

They had been so carefree, so perfect, so everything that Myka had wanted before Egypt and Yellowstone. For one bright and beautiful moment she’d let herself think of the possibility of forever.

(Well that had been an unmitigated disaster.)

So then she made due with a “consciousness” in what Claudia had called a Pokeball.  Helena in holographic form appearing from time to time to help their little Scooby Gang solve the artifact mystery of the weak.  The Horn had been rough but after than things seemed to settle.

Pete relented in his hatred and Claudia toned down the hero worship.

And you were skilled enough to hide the bitterness and pain that HG Wells brought to your world.

Then Emily Lake and Sykes and “old times” had given you a glimmer of hope.  After much soul searching you’d forgiven Helena of her trespasses because part of you (the incredibly foolish and childish part) had thought there still might be a future.

But as quickly as you’d vanquished Walter Sykes, your artificer had been taken away by the Regents. You knew (because you had pestered) that Artie had pushed for HG’s reinstatement as an Agent but instead she’d been given a special top secret mission.

Fuck all that.

Of course everything became clear thanks to Artie’s brush with madness. How this had been the timeline he’d created thanks to Helena’s ultimate sacrifice that made it possible. How he had changed time to make sure the Warehouse survived.

And how the love of your life had given hers to save you.  At least Artie had been honest about that part.

(And there was not enough time to process how you really felt about that. Jesus Christ on a cracker.)

 But that had been half a year and a lifetime ago. Helena had told you that Nate was an ordinary yet a good man. That Adelaide was a great kid. And that Boone, Wisconsin was where she had felt the most welcome, the most at home in this century.

And you wanted to barf. To punch something. To call Helena on her bullshit.

But you couldn’t because damn it all to hell you still loved her. And knew that at some point she’d realized the gigantic lie she was telling herself.

 Twist your head around, it’s all around you, all is full of love

You looked over at the woman who has captured your soul as you packed up the world you had known in this century.  In a past life you had helped select the very ground that the Warehouse had been built on. And at one point you might have held sway over the first generation of Agents who walked its aisles, but madness and bronze closed that door to you decades ago.

Instead you find yourself guiding a 26 year old in the art of training new Agents as you pack up centuries of history and magic. Given the current political climate in the United States it had been determined that Warehouse 14 was needed. After careful deliberation (and consideration for things such as climate change and population distribution)  Botswana would be its new home. And as with all Warehouse relocations, the home country chose its Agents.

Which left one of the most decorated and most vilified Agents in the history of the Warehouse without employment or a permanent residence. (The Bed and Breakfast would close since Abigail wanted to resume her career in photography.)

Pete and Steve had signed on to train the next generation of the Warehouse. This new world and new location would need the best of the best and the partnership of Latimer and Jinks had proven almost as skilled as Wells and Wolcott.

With far less insanity and time traveling tendencies.

So your main enterprise, the one that had sent you traveling the path of endless wonder. The occupation that had sent you through time both literally and figuratively was over.  There was no more need to traipse across the globe in hunt of curiosities.  

That job was complete and it was on to your most important task next to being a mother.

Loving Myka Bering (now Bering-Wells).

A job that you took far more seriously than any other in the 20th or the 21st century.

 “This is the last of it,” Myka sealed the final box in your shared room.  “Hard to believe our lives are over.”

“Far from it my love,” you smile, “we have just begun.”