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march-hare01 · 1 year ago

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Article by: GTHO bible

“It was love at first sight,” is how Gary Thompson remembers the night he saw his 1970 Falcon GTHO Phase Two for the first time.

“It was up on stands on the lot at John Gigante Motors on Parramatta Road in Croydon,” reminisces Gary today from his home in Mount Annan, New South Wales.

“My friend Paul Bianco and I were headed to the ‘brickies’ for some street racing action.

We had just driven by when the bright orange of the car caught my eye, and we immediately turned around to go drool over it,” remembers Gary. “They wanted around $4,200 for it. The salesman didn’t mind letting a 21 year old behind the wheel of such a powerful beast either!” After the road test, Gary talked turkey with the salesman clinching a deal that afternoon which included a then nine month old Electric Blue 351 XY Falcon 500. “They gave me $3,000 as a trade-in,” smiles Gary. This was fifty one years ago back in 1972, and the barely one-year old Falcon GTHO was just out of warranty and had just been traded-in by its first owner.

*** I’LL NEVER FORGET THE NIGHT THE FLYWHEEL EXPLODED THROUGH THE BONNET! ***

“I’d had the Phase Two for just ten days when my good mate Paul who was the test driver for Jack Brabham Ford where we both worked, lined me up to race his peppermint green Lotus twin-cam Mk1 Escort.” “We’d taken off in a symphony of noise, dust and wheel spin.I was revving the HO to 7,200rpm in 1st gear when I clutched to change to 2nd gear. We were flat out side by side on Newbridge Road at Moorebank, it was just before midnight.”“There was a loud bang! Then everything went pitch black.”“I had no headlights, and no dash lights. The electricals had been cut completely.” “Thunder struck, here I was doing 70 mile per hour trying to steer the big Falcon in complete darkness as I slammed on the brakes.My foot went straight to the floorboards and it took me a second to register that I was steering a runaway freight train!” tells Gary as he relives those harrowing frightening moments gripping the thin steering wheel with white knuckles whilst attempting to pull up a ton and a half of an out of control hunk of metal. If anybody had been watching this event unfold, they would have heard a loud explosion, and witnessed pieces of flywheel shrapnel explode through a bulging bonnet, and sparks coming from under the car where the rear of the engine block was tearing up the road. The gearbox bellhousing had also taken leave with the exploding flywheel, leaving Gary with a gearbox full of neutrals. “I was about a kilometre down the road before I came to a stop.”“Paul’s Escort had also suffered shrapnel wounds lodged from projectile bits of the flywheel embedded in his door panels.”“My ten day old car looked like it had been struck by lightning.”“It’s bonnet bulged upwards with a huge gaping hole where 20 ounces of flywheel had exited like an Apollo 11 rocket. The engine was now pointing skywards pressing against the underside of the bonnet.” A tow truck was quickly called from a nearby phone box, and the damaged Falcon GTHO taken to a local panel beater. “The next morning I was told it would be a write-off,” tells Gary, who then decided to have the car taken to another panel shop instead. “I’ll never forget the night the flywheel exploded,” says Gary. Two weeks later the Falcon was all repaired like new again. “The panel shop had offered me an XY GT style bonnet which came complete with air-scoop shaker assembly left over from a Falcon GT. The original XW grille was left on, but we added later model XY taillights.” Gary opted to remove the original black GT side stripes, “We did this for no other reason than to make it look different.” Mechanics at Jack Brabham Ford rebuilt the original motor with new bearings, and fitted a steel flywheel instead of the cast iron factory unit which had exploded into a million pieces. “They even had to repair the dowels at the back of the engine block which had broken off when the motor scraped along the road! The gearbox input shaft also needed to be replaced because it was bent like a banana. We ended up fitting after-market extractors as the original exhaust manifolds had been severely damaged. Before having the engine repaired, Gary who worked in spare parts at Jack Brabham Ford knew John Goss from McLeod Ford. “I had actually bought his ex-race car motor from his Phase Three GTHO for $300. I was going to rebuild it, but it was cheaper to repair my original engine. I sold this bare motor, less the Phase Three race camshaft which a mate fitted to his car, and broke even getting my money back on the whole deal. Originally registered with GT-187 number plates, the HO was re-registered with GT-388 after the repair. Gary kept his Falcon GTHO for a few years after this, and vividly remembers the first time he took it off the clock winding it past 140 miles per hour. “My wife and I were returning from my in-law’s house in Queanbeyan, and as we went through the township of Collector along the Federal Highway, a small Datsun 1600 was right on my backside along the windey bits.

“On the first open straight of road, I took the HO off the clock!”

“My nervous wife looked at the speedo and said ‘it’s on the H where it reads MPH (miles per hour)’.”“I took her word for it.”

“I wasn’t game to take my eyes off the road at that speed!” laughs Gary now.

Five decades would pass before Gary laid teary eyes on his old bright orange Falcon, which is now in the hands of Melbourne collector Joe Barca.

“I never thought I’d ever see my GTHO again,” says Gary in disbelief.

“I was thunder struck again, this time though by the condition it’s in now which is better than it was new!”

Chris Dent from Falcon GT Restorations in Sydney had completely restored this super-rare Ford for a previous owner to a Gold standard Concours condition, resulting in winning the Grand Champion

‘The Best Car of Show’ at the 2015 Falcon GT Nationals.

The current owner Joe tells,

“It had won every category in the show it was entered in.

It cleaned up every trophy! I had to have it.”

It was this moment that Joe knew he had to buy this outstanding GTHO should it ever come up for sale.

As chance would have it, not long after the Falcon came onto the market for sale by tender, and Joe was the successful bidder paying $500,000 for this very special one-of-a-kind car.

“It’s also my wife Debbie’s favourite colour,” states Joe with a wink, as he justifies this expensive purchase.

This said, the Phase Two isn’t Joe’s first rodeo as he’s owned many Falcon GTs and probably more GTHOs than anyone else on the planet.

Unbeknownst to Joe at the time, Gary Thompson the former owner was also the under-bidder who wanted to get his old car back.

Gary’s son Trent then arranged for his dad to see his old Falcon.

“As you can see Dad was very teary seeing it again,” says Trent.

“At least he got to sit behind the wheel again.”

It was at this time that Joe learnt more about this car’s history from Gary who shared his story and photos about the night the flywheel exploded.

This helped Joe to make sense of some minor existing battle scars in the transmission tunnel on the car.

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gubbles-owo · 10 months ago

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Been poking the PS3 more recently, playing some titles from a generation I never felt much connected to. Revisited Mirror's Edge after... probably over a decade? And while definitely not without its flaws and sore spots, it is sooo so fucking cool. Sometimes the collision does some wonky things that quite literally throw you off; combat encounters can be a repetitive slog of dying to a rain of bullets over and over again, trying to figure out how the hell to cut through them all; the animation of the cutscenes can feel a bit stilted and stiff, and whatever story that is present is rather light. But man, the raw sense of flow you can settle into when it all clicks... running against a wall and kicking off it to reach a ledge, vaulting up and dodging incoming fire and, hell, even clocking a fucko in the face and stealing their gun (when that actually works) to take out all their other shitfriends, just to chuck it to the side and dash away across a rooftop... god. I know the shaking and rolling first person cam ain't everyone's favorite-- understandable with motion sickness and all that-- but I love it all so much. When you land on the ground and tuck into a roll to break the fall, the whole fucking camera tumbles to follow suit. Really helps give weight to your actions and accentuates your carried momentum. It wouldn't be the same without it. And everything from the cutscenes to the environments to the music carry this through-line of sharp minimalism, stark yet vibrant. Very different than many of the games and experiences that were coming out at the time. idk, call me old or uninformed, but I feel like this sort of thing just doesn't happen anymore. At least, not in the AAA space. I dunno much about the follow-up, Catalyst, other than that its reception was... not super great. Perhaps I'll look into it at some point, but for now I wanna try my hand at beating the (in-game) speedrun times and finding all the hidden cases. Cleared the story in a day but I crave more lol

#living vicariously thru a vibeo game protagonist that can run for more than 4 seconds without getting winded #mirror's edge #idk what to tag this sorta thing #gub plays #or smth

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beardedmrbean · 3 months ago

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A mom has been sentenced to 40 years in prison for having “ambushed and injected” her estranged ex-husband with a fatal dose of poison after he dropped their children back at her home.

Amanda Hovonec, 37, of Wapakoneta, Ohio, pleaded guilty to the murder of Timothy Hovanec in front of a district judge on Tuesday.

Investigators attained dash cam footage from the victim’s car that showed her wrestling him to the floor, before she injected him in the shoulder with M99: an anesthetic used on Rhinos and other zoo animals that is up to 3,000 times the strength of morphine.

The 36-year-old father-of-three, who worked as a US State Department researcher, was returning the couple’s children after they stayed with him during a weekend visit on the evening of April 24, court documents revealed.

Timothy’s job demanded they live in South Africa between 2018 and 2020, in which time Hovonec was engaged in an affair with Saffa Anthony Theodorou. The couple divorced shortly after a return to the US in 2020.

At approximately 7pm, Hovonec and her mother Anita Green were waiting beside the garage outside her residence when the dad pulled into the drive, the court heard.

According to prosecutors, the mom walked up to the car and told her children: “I have a surprise for you inside.”

As Green ushered the children inside, Hovonec leapt on her ex-husband on her driveway while he was unloading the children’s car seats, according to a sentencing brief.

“What the heck are you doing? Did you just assault me?” Timothy could be heard wailing in an audio recording captured by the car’s dash cam that was given to investigators. “Get away from me… get off of me.”

Edging into the camera’s view, Hovanec was filmed yanking her ex-husband’s shirt and wrestling with him as he tried to pick up his cellphone, officials said.

Taking him to the ground, she held the victim by the neck until his body went limp and he lost consciousness prosecutors said.

After plundering his phone and smartwatch, Hovanec switched off the vehicle’s engine and, with it, the dashcam, prosecutors said.

She placed a plastic bag over the victim’s head and body over fear of “fluids secreting” from his remains, according to court documents.

Hovanec revealed to investigators that she injected her ex-partner in the shoulder with M99. She knew that the poison would kill him within minutes, prosecutors said.

The defendant also confessed to where she claimed to have sourced the poison: Theodorou.

The paramour, who had traveled to Ohio at the time of the murder, had not only allegedly supplied the M-99, he admitted to digging a shallow grave a day prior to Timothy’s death.

On April 25, Green drove the pair to the burial site at a farm that the defendant’s grandfather used to own, according to a probable cause affidavit.

Green’s taxiing of Hovonec and Theodorou was “inescapable conclusion that she helped facilitate a murder,” District Judge James Knepp II said.

“Hovanec’s violent and intentional actions were cold-blooded, calculated, and cruel. Her extreme malevolence toward her husband and complete disregard for how his murder would affect their innocent children is incomprehensible and unforgivable,” said US Attorney Rebecca Lutzko for the Northern District of Ohio said in a statement released on Tuesday.

“We know that no amount of time served can bring back a family’s loved one. But our hope is that the victim’s family may find some sense of closure as they painstakingly work to heal from this unimaginable and horrific tragedy.”

Green, the defendant’s mother, pleaded guilty to being an accessory to the crimes committed by Hovanec and Theodorou. She was sentenced to 10 years in prison, followed by two years of supervised release. She was ordered to pay $2,108,559 in restitution.

Hovanec’s lover, Theodorou, is scheduled sentenced on Thursday.

#nunyas news

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daisychainsandbowties · 1 year ago

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thinking about ship’s surgeon camila up to her elbows in gore, beckoning to ava with her suture needle, almost fishook-shaped. teaching ava relentlessly, by rote, "bones of the hand, smallest to largest. go."

washing her hands in a basin of water while ava bandages the stump of someone’s leg after a boarding action, after watching camila fight with her handaxes, the loudest fighter in a sea of screams.

the captain rolling her eyes, driving the points of her swords through a man’s throat to open it wide before whipping around to camila’s side, "i don't think the surgeon should be fighting, do you?"

mary up clearing the deck with her blunderbuss and what beatrice calls her “ridiculous” brace of pistols.

ava helps her drag bodies across the deck, ruined tendons dragging a nerveless leg in their wake. she stuffs a wad of cloth into their mouths to bite down on as camila prepares the laudanum, filling the cabin with that bittersweet smell that always makes ava’s gorge rise.

cam chatting about nothing as she saws through bone, showing ava how to do it cleanly, snapping her fingers when ava can’t drag her eyes away from the man on the table, drooling blood past the gag in his mouth.

she prises it out gently when the crew come to take him down below, camila slapping them away from her stores of painkillers, “i know very well what you’ll do with them. come get me when he wakes.”

ava sitting, hands draped between her knees, staring. thinking of bea up on the helm, weaving magic around her body to snatch men clean off the deck and dash them into the waves. summoning fire and casting clouds of confusion that let captain masters cut through men like wheat.

“it gets easier.” cam’s bloody fingers on ava’s chin, tilting it up.

“does it?”

“sure, once you’re in it. i heard the captain tell beatrice to teach you how to use a sword. that ought to help with things."

“but isn’t she a mage?”

cam winks, “oh sure, but she’s also an artist with a blade. mary calls it divine nepotism.”

“that doesn’t even make sense,” ava says, but her hands twitch. she thinks of the night she escaped from the orphanage, of the horrible voices in her head.

tearing a body limb-from-limb, somehow shielded from the gore by a great mass of things, tunneling out of her skin and wrapping her in cold wet arms.

she shivers, and not from the cold, watching camila bustle around the room. she sighs when she realises her hands are bloody again., but then shrugs, looks over her shoulder at ava. “i saw beatrice looking furious earlier, so i bet the captain insisted she teach you.”

“great,” ava deadpans. “love when people are forced to spend time with me.”

“oh, you’ll get used to her. if she’s nervous around you that probably means-” camila stops, grimaces. “well, i’d better not say.”

“say what?”

“just that beatrice is a complicated person. i wouldn’t take her coldness to heart.”

“wh-”

“now come over here and wash your hands. i’ve got to go tend to the cuts that the captain is no doubt trying to conceal from me.”

#davy jones au #camila as a surgeon… fuck yes #can't stop thinking about this au actually #warrior nun

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samantitheos · 11 months ago

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Tag Game Wednesday

Thank you @juliakayyy @jrooc and @skylerwinchester for tagging me. <3

Name: sam.

Age: older than cam, younger than noel—that perfect sweet spot.

star sign: capricorn.

your first language: english.

second language: the education system (and my parents) failed me. i can kinda read latin, i guess.

favourite lip product: blistex or maybelline baby lips.

the best food dish you can make without a recipe: sicilian meatloaf or this bacon-wrapped chicken breast dish with cream cheese filling.

If you drink tea, what kind? black tea with a bit of honey.

If you drink coffee, what roast do you usually get? medium.

favourite thing to watch on youtube right now: nothing? tho i do use it to play the lord of the rings trilogy soundtrack or best of hans zimmer when i’m working. 🤓

favourite thing to watch on youtube in 2012: guns n’ roses music videos probably lol.

favourite item of clothing right now: since starting to work from home, definitely my mint green sweatpants and fuzzy slippers.

favourite item of clothing in 2012: based on my pictures from that year i wore this electric yellow tank top A LOT.

[please enjoy the super grainy quality and raging phallic energy]

fandom

three movies you recommend: life as a house, gladiator, the girl with the dragon tattoo (original swedish version with subtitles).

your favourite concert: i’m gonna cheat and say warped tour 2004.

have you ever unfollowed someone over a fandom opinion? lmaooooo the great mickey crop top controversy of 2019 (yes).

have you ever left a fandom because of the fans? i’ve only really been involved in the shameless fandom, but hearing about the fans in other fandoms (e.g., ofmd) has discouraged me from trying to get involved in them.

the best tv show you watched last year: daisy jones and the six, interview with the vampire, ted lasso.

do you have a fancasting you just can’t let go of? would loved to have seen tom hardy as james bond and would still love to see cam in a live-action hercules.

a ship you’ve abandoned: well this is before i knew what “shipping” was, but kate and sawyer on lost (he deserved better—and got it).

on a scale of 1-10 how willing are you to share your ao3 history? “ok, but just let me explain…”

do you have a fandom tattoo? (do you want one?) no, and if i got anything i would want it to be very subtle. i’ve thought about getting a serif dash on my left middle finger…

what fandom do you wish was bigger? i don’t really wish the shameless fandom was bigger, but i do wish the fic writing community was as big as it was a few years ago.

has a finale ever ruined a show for you? how i met your mother. absolute trash ending.

have you…

swam in an ocean? yes! and scuba certified. i did underwater archaeology for a few years. ever been vegan/vegetarian? no. gone skinny dipping? once. gone skiing? yes, but not since high school. been to a convention? only the boring academic kind.

Tagging @astaraels @crossmydna @deathclassic @darlingian @ian-galagher @krysmiss @lonelygallavich @palepinkgoat @sickness-health-all-that-shit @transmickey @heymrspatel @stocious @callivich @gallawitchxx <333

#weekly tag wednesday #tag game

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multi-fan-dom-madness · 1 year ago

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Chapter 18: Viinir (Second Chances - Hunter x reader)

Viinir. v. to run.

Chapter Summary: You make it out of the city, but you're not out of danger yet.

Chapter Warnings: canon-typical violence; the Empire; angst and fluff in mostly equal measures for once; if I missed anything please let me know!

Word Count: 3,878

< Previous chapter | Next chapter >

Trepidation settles heavy and cold in your veins, weighing you down, freezing you to the spot despite the sweltering heat. For now, the Star Destroyers are too high in orbit to tell if they’ve launched fighters, but that doesn’t stop the trembling in your knees.

Your wrist comm crackles with static before Tech’s voice breaks through. “I suggest we hide.”

All at once, the comms are ablaze with chatter, sarcastic retorts and fearful wondering. You can’t make yourself move. Even if you wanted to, your arms are full; there’s no way you can respond to the squad’s sound-off without sacrificing the gifts you’d bought. More pressing, though, you need to get your face behind cover. You know how dangerous this situation is, even if the Empire isn’t here for you or the squad. Those Star Destroyers are equipped with tracking radars, cams, and probably even higher-quality tracking tech than when you’d been in the academy.

“Nav, come in!” Hunter barks over the comms.

Galvanized into action by his demanding tone, you stumble back under the shade of a canopy. With the entire city at a dead standstill, it’s easier to peer above and around bodies to catch a glimpse of familiar gray armor. But there is nothing familiar awaiting your gaze. Panic, electric and stinging, cracks apart the dread in your blood and sets your heart pounding.

“Does anyone have eyes on Nav?”

“They’re in the market,” Omega’s small, scared voice chimes in. “Nav, turn left and head towards the archway with lights.”

Nodding, you don’t bother to look around to spot where Omega is. You trust her. You catch a glimpse of the lighted archway, maybe fifty feet from you, and beyond it, a dark rockface. Tightening your grip on your assorted gifts, you duck your head and push past people, barely mumbling apologies in Basic, half-aware of the way that people shoot glares as you pass.

Thirty feet. You risk a fleeting glance around you. Most everyone is still rooted to the spot, faces upturned, pinched with worry and fear. Whispers hiss across the chasm like waves as the city’s inhabitants spread rumor and conjecture like wildfire. You don’t understand the language, but you comprehend the sentiment: what do we do?

Fifteen feet. You have to juggle your grip on the objects in your arms, the blender about to lose its top. Cursing, you pause and shrug your shoulder forward, nudging the appliance back into submission.

When you’re satisfied it won’t move again, you continue forward.

Ten feet.

White duraplast gleams in the yellow incandescence of the archway ahead of you. You stumble to a halt. Lips going numb with surprise, your eyes widen as you lock onto the darkened visor of one of the helmets.

Several thoughts occur to you at once as time seems to stretch to a trickle. First, your worry is for Omega. You assume she’d been keeping tabs on your progress—did she not know about the Imps in the tunnel, or did she get captured? Your second thought is Phee—a thought quickly dashed. Phee’s no snitch. Which leaves your mind turning to the rest of the squad. Your comlink is quiet, dead. Where are they?

Your final thought is one of anger. Why can’t the Empire just leave you alone? What threat do you pose to them, really?

As if watching from outside your body, the trooper closest to you seems to register that you, unlike the rest of the people here, are not enraptured by the display of power hanging in the sky. Their hand comes up to the side of their helmet. You groan inwardly, sending a silent apology to the gifts about to scatter across the dusty ground.

“There you are!”

Time snaps back to its normal pace as a warm, strong arm wraps around you from the side, the momentum turning you away from the Imps. Hunter’s face is grim as he glances down at you, appraising you. He swings a cloak up over the both of you to shield your faces. Under his other arm is tucked his helmet.

“I got worried when you didn’t come home right away,” he continues. He says it just loud enough to carry to the Imps behind you. With a gentle pressure around your waist, he leads you back the way you’d come, back to the winding staircase up to the surface.

Play along. “O-Oh, sorry, I just—got distracted.” You laugh, and it sounds fake and forced, even to your own ears. In a lower register, you whisper, “Where are the others?”

“S’alright, cyare,” Hunter says. “Let’s get home.” He drops his voice. “Hiding. Safe.”

Nodding, you let yourself be steered through the crowd. You can nearly feel the rising tide of panic welling up around you as people realize that the Empire isn’t just up there—it’s down here, with you all. Anxious whispers become fearful mutters. People push past you and Hunter, heading in the same direction, and, with any luck, providing you with extra cover.

You risk a glance back over your shoulder. At least a dozen more Imps, close to twenty total, move through the market square, roughing up anyone still lingering: shopkeeps protecting their wares; parents with curious children; stubborn, brave, ultimately foolish locals who dare to stand their ground. One man shouts something defiant in the local language, gesturing up to the ships in orbit. Without hesitation, two of the armored Imps raise their blasters and open fire.

Screams crescendo around you. Whipping back to face forward, you lengthen your stride. “We need to get the kark out of here.”

“We’re not going to make it to the ships,” Hunter says, voice low and strained. “If we wait for nightfall, we might have a chance.”

“We need to find the others.”

He shakes his head. “They should already be split up by now. Omega’s with Wrecker. Tech and Phee. Us.”

Instead of climbing the stairs like you so desperately desire, Hunter guides you past them, hugging the gently curving wall. You’re not sure he even has a plan, a place picked out, but when the second doorway you pass is open, you duck inside, forcing him to follow.

“Wait!” he hisses.

“No time.” As soon as he’s over the threshold, you kick the faded wooden door shut. “Help me block this off.”

Not that there’s much for you to use. A sparse table, caked with dust and sand, like most of everything else here, and some other furniture. Hunter grunts as he lifts the table and jams it against the doorway.

Thankfully, there is no window to worry about. Sunlight filters through crooked gaps between the door’s wooden planks. Dust swirls and eddies in the beams of light. Outside, the sounds of running feet and panicked shouts begin to decline. Still clutching the book, blender, and accessories, you take a moment to catch your breath and look around.

You’ve trapped yourselves into a hole in the wall, quite literally. From side to side, the room you stand in is maybe fifteen feet across, probably the same distance deep. Aside from the table, now wedged by the sole entrance, there are only a handful of other pieces of furniture: a single, rickety chair missing its splat; a wardrobe with busted hinges; and a cot tucked into the far corner. Someone’s abode, once, you figure, but they’ve long since abandoned this place. Hard to imagine why, you think with a wry sense of self-deprecation. At the very least, the surrounding rock seems to offer protection from the superheated atmosphere outside. You exhale into the cool air.

“Guess this works as good as anything else,” Hunter finally muses. He stands with his hands on his hips, frowning as his eyes sweep the interior.

“I’m not going to apologize,” you say. “This was the best opportunity and you know it.”

Shaking his head, he drops his hands to his sides. “I know. Thank you.” Then he peers closer at you, as if seeing the belongings you clutch to your chest for the first time. “What’s...all that?”

“Oh.” You gently deposit the items onto the cot. A puff of dust exhales into your face, and you have to stifle a sneeze. It would be just your luck to get caught because of allergies. “Just.... It’s silly. Gifts. For you all.”

Hunter hovers by your shoulder, his eyes roving over all five items. You watch, embarrassed, as emotions flit over his face. Frown easing into something like affection, you catch the exact moment he realizes which gift is his. He hooks the bracelet with his finger and lifts it to inspect it closer.

Face burning, you drop your gaze from his face to the bracelet as he faces you.

“This is...mine?” he asks.

You nod.

Without another word, he slips it over his hand. The stone beads nestle perfectly against his wrist; shades of tan, white, brown, and gray arranged in a pattern repeating to infinity in the closed loop of the elastic thread that ties it all together. Your breath catches. You hadn’t expected him to accept it so easily.

“Thank you,” he murmurs.

“It’s— it’s nothing, really,” you stammer out. “You all deserve something...nice.”

He hums in thought. “Did you get yourself anything?”

With a small shake of your head, you find it in you to meet his gaze again, just in time to catch the frown that threatens to retake his features.

You hurry to explain yourself. “I...have everything I need right now. Everything I want is already part of my life. The kid, this family. You. I—”

His expression hardens and he clasps his hand over your mouth, silencing the words you didn’t feel like you had control of, anyhow. The warmth of your affection trickles away as you hold your breath, ears straining for whatever it is he senses. Then you hear it: the rhythmic clatter of duraplast against duraplast, punctuated by the steady march of boots over stone ground.

Hunter’s eyes slide back to your own before he releases you. With a single nod, you slowly, carefully, reach for your blasters. Easing the safety off of each, one at a time, you glance down at the other switch.

“Stun?” you breathe, knowing that this close, Hunter can hear you.

He jerks his head in a nod.

“Clones?” you ask in the same tone.

Another nod. You squeeze your eyes shut. Kriff.

Ghosting away from you, Hunter moves to position himself closer to the door. You try to move as well, just a few feet across the room to get behind the bulk of the wardrobe. Despite the nervous energy thrumming in your stomach and buzzing at the base of your skull, your combat training reasserts itself like it’s supposed to. You need to get behind cover. Use every advantage to your benefit.

You tuck back against the cool rock wall. Outside, the Imps sound like they’re nearly to your hiding spot. You force yourself to take deep, steady breaths, counting them off to stem the rising panic clawing up your chest.

Muffled but distinct, a clone’s voice drifts to you through the closed door. “Nah, there’s no one in this one. Check the next one.”

It’s all the warning you have before—

Bang bang bang bang!

You flinch, knocking your head on the wall. The table in front of the door holds, even as a trooper seems to kick at the door.

“Stuck, sir,” a clone says.

A nearly identical voice responds. “Get it unstuck.”

One part of your brain begins analyzing all your combative options for getting out of here alive. It’s the two of you against three Destroyers’ worth of troops; at the very least, the others would have time to get away safe. Omega would get to live her life—without her dad. That won’t happen. You and Hunter have the advantage of being able to control the door as an access point: only two troopers could come in at a time, and their bodies would pile up into a barricade. But then you’d be even more stuck inside, with a bunch of unconscious, but very much not dead, Imps. Every scenario your brain flicks through ends the same way: with one or both of you dead, captured, or both.

The other part of your mind struggles to recall all the non-aggressive tactics you were taught at the academy. Something about public displays of affection making people uncomfortable..? How likely is it that you could spin an amorous connection in your favor?

“Eh, kark it,” a voice outside the door grumbles. “C’mon. All of these are probably empty, anyway.”

You don’t dare release your held breath until the sounds of the Imps’ march fades completely. You shove your blasters back into their holsters before your legs threaten to buckle beneath you.

Your ass hits the ground and you slump forward. “Maker above, Hunter, how are we getting out of here?”

He sits beside you, resting a hand on your knee. “I don’t know.”

“We can’t contact the others, can we?”

“Too risky. Empire’s probably monitoring all comm frequencies.”

With a stuttering inhale, you raise your head. Now that you’re free of the immediate threat of Imps, your mind switches its focus to a more long-term plan. “The Redthorn has been programmed to your bioscans.”

Hunter’s glittering eyes catch yours, shards of gray obsidian in the dim light. “What’s that got to do with this? When did you do that?”

“Coded it not long after I joined. It’s a failsafe in case we... if we get separated,” you say. “Or...if I don’t make it.”

“Don’t even think that,” he says, voice quiet but harsh. The urgency in his usually composed tone gives you pause, but only for a moment.

“I’m just considering every possibility,” you say. “You have enhanced senses. If either of us is getting back safe, it’s you.”

“I won’t leave you behind.” He grips your chin between his thumb and forefinger, forces you to meet his gaze head-on, not letting you avoid this. “D’you understand me? You are not to sacrifice yourself.”

“Is that an order, Sarge?”

“You know damn well it is,” he growls. His expression remains hard, the mask of a soldier, before it crumbles before your eyes, revealing the soft man beneath. “Nav, please.”

You gingerly reach forward to tuck a strand of hair behind his ear. “You’re right. I’m sorry. I’m not going anywhere.” When his eyes slide shut, you sigh. “We should probably come up with a plan, though.”

Several hours later, you stretch your sore, cramped muscles. The suns finally seem to have gone down. Hunter has spent the last hour or so monitoring guard rotations, his enhanced hearing helping him track how many levels the guards go up, how many of them in each patrol unit, where they pause in their beats. You’re not sure exactly what he’s figured out, but since he hasn’t said anything against the plan so far, you trust that he feels confident in his abilities.

For your part, you’d packed up your belongings as best as you could. You had to rip an old, musty bedsheet you found stuffed at the bottom of the wardrobe to create a makeshift pack—your usual backpack is still too full. You need to remember to empty it out when you’re safe again. Using scraps, you made sure that none of the new objects made noise as you walked.

The plan is as simple as you could make it. Hunter gets a feel for the patrols; you watch your six. Together, you’ll get to the base of the stairs and climb. Once you’re on the stairway, you know it’s going to be a race; there had been no alcoves to duck into, and the path was barely wide enough for Omega to walk next to one of you. Any resistance you encounter could very well spell disaster.

But it really is a simple plan, not one unlike the mantra you’d created for yourself months ago on Bescane. Get in, get out, get away.

Swallowing against the dryness in your throat, you squint through the darkness. Hunter’s frame crouches by the door. You’d helped him move the table when there was still light, to reduce the chance of extra sound.

You squat next to him. “How are we lookin’?”

“I don’t want to jinx us,” he whispers back. “Another few minutes, and we’ll be in the middle of their rotations. Last guard shift was at sundown.”

Nodding, you let that information sink into your brain and digest. Sundown was a while ago; with any luck, the clones on patrol right now are nearing the end of their shifts, growing tired, looking forward to mealtime. The time to move is now.

“Walk me through it one more time,” he says. He helps you back to your feet as he straightens up.

You nod, knowing he can see you even if you can’t see more of him than a vague outline. “I open the door and you do a check. Once we’re clear, you lead the way to the stairs. I walk backwards with you, watching behind us. You’ll call a stop if it’s needed. We trade places every ten minutes of movement.”

“Good.” His hand rests on your shoulder and gives it a comforting squeeze. “And we hold out hope that the others are able to get out, too.”

“Or that they are already out.”

He hums. “That, too.”

Silence spreads between you. You look up where you think his eyes are and offer a tense, short smile. In the dark, you sense his posture shift, feel his warmth close in on you. His hand slides from your shoulder to cup the back of your neck. His touch sends tingles of anticipation prickling through your body.

“Wh-What are you doing?” you ask. You can’t keep the tremor out of your voice.

“Just feeling you,” he rasps. “Just in case.”

A gasp escapes you as his nose nudges yours. Tilting your head without a second thought, you catch at the edges of his cuirass and tug him closer. His warm breath fans over your face. For a long moment, the two of you stand there, breathing each other’s breath, exchanging the life-giving essence back and forth, drowning in one another. At least, you hope he’s drowning the same way you are. Your heart beats hard and steady against your ribcage, aching to burst forward and meet his own. All of your nerves alight. The strange sense of gravity connecting you to him tears at your seams as your imminent collision ripples through spacetime. After so long in a slow orbit, you’re two black holes, destined to merge and become one.

But not tonight. Hunter takes a sharp breath in, then steps back, his hand falling from you. Your own drop to your side.

“Let’s go,” he says.

Taking a moment to clear your frazzled brain, you push all your feelings for him to the side. It’s a distraction—a welcome one, a comforting one, but very likely a deadly one, too. You fumble for the rope door handle. Once you find it, you gently, inch by inch, tug the door free from its frame. You have to lift the door to keep it from scraping the floor, but once it’s open, Hunter slips through the gap, silent.

“Clear,” comes his voice, modulated by the helmet once again.

You peer out into the city. Back by the market, you catch a glimpse of the incandescent lights strung between stalls, occasionally blotted out by figures walking in pairs. Both blasters in hand, you step over the threshold and pivot.

“Starting on my right,” Hunter murmurs.

“On my left,” you respond.

As one, the two of you head toward the base of the stairs, moving more slowly than you want. Your impulse is to dash, to get there as fast as possible, but Hunter had explained to you that quick movements almost always draw attention. A slow, methodical pace makes more logical sense. Even so, every muscle in your body screams with the desire to sprint.

You swap places twice, the first time when you reach the base of the stairs, and again after about ten minutes of slow, painstaking progress upward. To your good fortune, the higher you climb, the better you can see; the planet’s moon rises overhead, casting the city in a bone-white glow.

BOOM!

You jerk your head so fast that your neck cramps, eyes watering from the conjoined pain and the sudden flare of fire on the other side of the city. The explosion’s shockwave hits you and nearly knocks you back into the rock wall, but Hunter grabs your arm to steady you.

“Run!” he urges.

Turning and stumbling, you scramble up the steep stairs in Hunter’s wake. You can’t take your eyes off the now steadily-growing fire that consumes the draped canopies of the cityscape, leaping between rooftops. Closer at hand, you catch sight of four figures dashing between buildings before they hit the stairs.

“Hunter, they’re—”

“I see them,” he calls over his shoulder. “When we get to the top, we’ll wait for them.”

You’re panting and out of breath by the time you reach the top, clutching a stitch in your side. But you don’t have time to devote to your labored breathing. Surprised shouts crackle out of six vocoders, the white armor gleaming in the moonlight.

One of them raises his hand to his helmet. “Insurgent activity at the top. Requesting—”

Hunter’s stun blast knocks him unconscious before he can finish his request for support. Your mind quiets for the first time today as you raise your blasters and take aim. Blue plasma sears your retinas. As the last Imp falls to the ground, the crunch of a boot on rock from behind you has you whirling, fingers resting on the triggers.

“Just us!” Wrecker exclaims.

“Thank the kriffin’ Maker,” you pant out.

“C’mon, they know where we are.” Hunter tugs at your elbow. “Nav, I want you on the Maruader. Wrecker, you come with me.”

You by now not to question Hunter’s tactics. He’s not led you astray yet. Urging your feet to move, you grab Omega’s hand and make sure she stays with you.

“Next time, Phee,” you gasp out as the dark shapes of the ships come into view, “park us closer.”

“Oh, believe me, I will!” Her laugh is no less boisterous for being strained.

The ramps to both ships rest open by the time you reach them. Skidding to a halt, you usher Omega up the Maruader’s steps first. Tech follows, taking the stairs two at a time, and then Phee. You’re about to climb up after her when a familiar, chilling sound pierces through the adrenaline haze.

A dull roar turns into a horrid screech. Eyes wide, you look back toward the sinkhole in time to catch the outline of three TIE-fighters streaking toward you as they dart in front of the moon.

“Hunter!” you shout, voice cracking.

“I know!” he yells back. “We’ll meet at Rintonne! Now go!”

You have no choice but to obey as the TIEs open fire, green plasma beams shattering the ground around the ships.

Taglist: @the-hexfiles @fjordg @idoubleswearimawriter @skellymom (idk why it won't tag you, I'm sorry!)

#tbb hunter x reader #hunter x reader #hunter x gn!reader #second chances #rhiwrites #the bad batch x reader #tbb x reader

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archoneddzs15 · 2 months ago

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Sega Saturn - Street Fighter Collection

Title: Street Fighter Collection / ストリートファイターコレクション

Developer/Publisher: Capcom

Release date: 18 September 1997

Catalogue No.: T-1223G

Genre: Compilation / Fighting Action

Try not to confuse this collection with the Capcom Generations 5 Street Fighter Collection which was actually released in the West on PlayStation as "Street Fighter Collection 2". This collection features two discs that contain Super Street Fighter 2 and Super Street Fighter 2X on disc one and Street Fighter Zero 2 DASH on disc two. As you probably know Super Street Fighter 2X was the update of Super Street Fighter 2 which in turn was probably the only true sequel to the Street Fighter 2 games (I don't really count SF 2 Champion Edition or SF 2 Turbo as a sequel since it's more of an extension of the original game) Needles to say both of these are pretty much arcade perfect apart from the loading screens which don't last that long really. It's most definitely the best home versions of Super Street Fighter 2 and Super Street Fighter 2 X available when released (even if I absolutely loved the Panasonic 3DO version of Super Street Fighter 2 X).

Street Fighter Zero 2 DASH on the other hand is not a true sequel to Street Fighter Zero 2 (Alpha 2 in the west) but more of an update of the original game. So, what's different about this game and the original Street Fighter Zero 2? Well, thanks to some of my best friends around the globe here's a list of differences.

Street Fighter Zero 2 Dash features a new game mode, called "Gouki mode". In this mode, you have to defeat Gouki, the Dark Hadou Warrior otherwise known as Akuma in the west. Defeating Gouki can be one hell of a difficult task! Also, the background is prairie by night, like the beginning of the animated Street Fighter movie.

Cammy is a secret character that you can unlock by completing arcade mode with Vega (M. Bison in the West) and putting "CAM" as your initials at the end. She's the same character as seen in X-Men VS Street Fighter, with the same music too. Once you complete the trick, Cammy will be available, but for Versus and Training modes only.

There are some other cheats, but I'm not sure if they are new or if they were also in the original Street Fighter Zero 2. Anyway, here they are.

Play like in SF2 (without super combo gauge or air-blocking, etc) - (Only for Ryu, Chun-Li, Ken, Dhalsim, Zangief, Vega, and Sagat) - Put the selector above the character and press the Start button.

Color change (Only for Sakura and Shin Gouki) - Press the Start button 5 (five) times on the character screen.

youtube

#sega saturn #capcom #street fighter #ryu street fighter #ken street fighter #super street fighter 2 #street fighter alpha #Youtube

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zeroloop · 1 year ago

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Apexcam x70 Pro

Apexcam 4K 30FPS 20MP Action Cam Doppia Schermo Touch Screen 40m Impermeabile Sport Cam WiFi Fotocamera 170° Grandangolare 2.4G Telecomando Con 2x1350mAh Batterie e Accessori Kits Questo e un kit action camera con tanti accessori, tra cui la custodia, il telecomando, i supporti e il caricabatterie e due batterie il tutto viene fornito all’interno di una custodia rigida. La camera è la Apexcam…

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#4k action camera #action cam #action cam 2023 #apexcam #apexcam 4k 20mp wifi action camera #apexcam 4k action camera #apexcam action cam #apexcam x70 PRO #best action cam #best budget action cam #dash cam action #helmet mount action cam

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archive-enteryid · 1 year ago

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MASTERLIST.

design.

y2k fonts

new sub — template.

bgw kit — 8 gradient maps.

security cam — 1 coloring + 03 actions.

id — template.

video project — template.

docs.

persona — uma ficha geral e detalhada para muses.

window — muse docs template.

construção de personagem.

lista de ocupações (+200)

lista de traços (+60)

lista de faceclaims (1998 - 2003)

mini lista de recursos para personagens.

mini guia sobre personagens autistas.

misc.

gif icons (kang taehyun) — 121 gif icons of taehyun from txt.

dash icons (kang taehyun) — 60 dash icons of taehyun from txt.

dash icons (choi soobin) — 34 dash icons of soobin from txt.

dash icons (jeon jeongguk) — 74 dash icons of jungkook from bts.

random png folder (choi beomgyu) — 04 hqs pngs of beomgyu from txt in blue hour era.

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go-river-flows · 2 years ago

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They Have Returned (Sequel to WBtAP)

Part 3 of ?

Summary: The Avatars have returned to Pandora, which means trouble for our characters from Welcome Back to the Avatar Programme. Perspectives from Grace, Human Lyle Wainfleet, Reader and Recom Wainfleet. This is going to get confusing as heck.

Note: Spoken Na'vi = Normal, Spoken English = Italics

(Recom Wainfleet POV)

Arriving at a shack in a clearing, I got a chill down my spine. I know this place but couldn't place it though it was my first time here. The Colonel stopped at a fallen AMP suit. Mansk, Prager and Z-Dog just behind us. I felt sick for some reason, every fibre of my being felt wrong. Why did I feel this way? Z-Dog checked the shack, hopping through the shattered window checking the inside. “It's clear.”

“Perimeter up,” the Colonel simply said. I slowed behind the Colonel as he knelt down to the AMP suit. A giant spear with two arrows pierced through it, brushing away the vines and dirt. Why does that spear look so familiar? I eyed it up and down, looking at the skeleton, I observed the Colonel looking at the spear and arrows though I couldn't tell what expression he had on his face.

“Lyle, see if you can pull some data off that dash cam.”

“That thing’s deader than shit, Colonel.”

“Just do it Lieutenant.”

(Reader’s POV)

“Lyle?” my ears perked up at his name. The man in front of me looked up at me with the same expression of confusion and horror.

“Fuck me,” he mumbled, “Kids, get away from here. Now,” he whispered in his stern soldier voice, adjusting his gun to his front. The four of them began quietly moving toward me.

“Get to my ikran as quick as you can,” I pushed them back, readying my bow and arrows, “Babe, what do we do?” I knelt down next to him.

“Jake and Neytiri are on their way, I suggest we just quietly leave before they notice us,” he whispered. I nodded.

“Hop on, we can get back faster,” I offered my back to him, to which he climbed on like a little kid. But that was quickly shut down from Tuk’s scream. Shit.

Lyle wrapped his arms and legs around my neck and back and I sped silently in the direction of her scream. Slowing when I saw tall figures gathered together, the kids being restrained by the avatars. Lyle perched his gun on my shoulder, using my hips to stand up a little (it doesn't hurt me in any way) getting ready to shoot the avatars. I switch to my knife, the closer we get hiding behind the trees as cover close enough where we could hear their conversation.

“Dad?” Spider looked at the avatar in front of him.

The undisputable voice of Lyle in the clearing left the two of us speechless.

“Hey Colonel…check it out. Four fingers. We got a half-breed,” the bald na’vi gripped Kiri’s arm out, showing the shaven-haired avatar her hand.

“Show me your fingers,” the avatar turned to Lo’ak, to which he flipped his middle fingers at the avatar in front of him, “You’re his, aren't you?” To which Lo’ak returned a snarl at the avatar, “You’re his, all right.”

“Shit, Quaritch” Lyle mumbled into my ear. This was confusing as heck. The avatar grabbed the base of Lo’ak’s queue to which I seethed at. The familiar pain radiating through my bones as he wailed at the forceful action, fueling my anger. Lyle slid off my back, tightening the grip of his gun moving in closer.

“Where is he?” Quaritch asked, readjusting his hand on Lo’ak’s queue.

“Sorry, I don't speak English…to buttholes,” Lo’ak smarmed.

“Where is your father?” the avatar snarled in childlike Na’vi.

(Recom Wainfleet POV)

The air around us felt strange, as if we were being watched. Trying to access the data from the dashcam, managing to start the download, all whilst keeping an eye out through the shrubbery and trees, a slight movement caught the corner of my eye. Something pink and small. Could it be? I let go of the girl in front of me, holding my weapon closer, trying not to make any suspicious movements. I edged away from the group slowly, but the Colonel’s attention was fully on the Na'vi boy. I snuck a peek in the same direction again, leaning back a little. My yellow eyes met my own face, slightly obscured by a mask and a female Na’vi not too far back. I instantly recognised her face. (Y/N). Looking back at the group, I noticed Zhang stare at me and then look in the direction I was just staring at, but he looked back at me. Thankfully the trees obstructed his view of my human form and (Y/N). What the fuck was going on? I thought I had died? They lied! My ear flinched a little when the Colonel turned his attention to the human boy in the group.

“What's your name, kid?”

“Spider…Socorro,” the boy said. The Colonel took a knee getting a closer look at the boy, gesturing for Warren to back off.

“Miles?”

“Nobody calls me that,” was what he answered back.

“Well, I’ll be damned…Well, I figured they sent you back to Earth.”

“They can't put babies in cryo, dipshit.”

The Colonel stood back up to his full height, gesturing again with his hand for Warren to restrain the boy again.

“Iron Sky, Blue one, Actual. We are standing by for extraction, over. Be advised we are bringin’ in high value prisoners,” Colonel reported through his comms.

“You’ll die before you take them,” The group looked at me, though I didn't say it. My miniature human figure breached the shrubbery, pointing a gun at us all. OH SHIT!

“What the fuck?” I could hear Lopez and the others’ say.

“Dad!” Spider yells.

“Drop your weapons,” my human self yells. Everyone’s faces contort into confusion except for the children, whose faces lit up as the Colonel whips his head to face me, turning to get a good look at the human in front of him again.

“Lyle? You're not dead?!”

He doesn't say anything at first, but his breathing increases, fogging up his mask a little, adjusting his grip and his finger on the trigger.

“Dad, don't!” Spider calls out, Quratich shoots him a dirty look, “What? He was the one who raised me.” The human moves in front of the boy, gun still in hands looking at the group.

“Lyle? What the fuck?! You're not dead?!” Lopez questions. A barrage of similar questions was thrown around by the other recoms, except for Mansk and my blue butt in mass confusion, but he didn't answer any of them.

“Everybody! Shut the hell up!” Quratich yells above the noise, shutting the rowdy lot up. “Now. You answer my question.” He points to my human form.

“No. I didn't die,” he simply says, “But you. You let the kids go now. They ‘ave nothin’ to do with this.” Holy fuck. It was starting to get dark. A drop of rainwater dripped onto my nose before the downpour began. Quartich stared at my human self as he stared back with a scowl, having a staredown of the century. A beep alerted me of the completed video download. I grabbed my tablet, and started the video as I shook in sudden nervousness. I got a horrible feeling. Quaritch snatched the tablet from my hand.

The face of a female Na’vi was pinned down, snarling at the man in front of her. The view moved up as another na’vi came into view, the camera zooming into her face. (Y/N). A giant spear launched into the centre of the AMP suit throwing the suit off balance. But the video continued. The sound of laughter from within the suit followed by Quaritch’s laugh.

“You almost got me there (Y/N). Just about,” the man chuckled deeply.

“Give it up, Quaritch!” Jake yelled, “It's all over.”

“Nothing’s over while I'm still breathing,” Quarithch came to a full stand as Jake ran for a nearby weapon engaging in a fight. Jake was dodging Quaritch’s movements but managed to grab ahold of Jake’s braid. Jake screamed out in pain. But the sudden rain of bullets to the glass front stopped Quaritch’s movements as the toxic Pandoran air seeped into the AMP suit, he rushed to put his emergency mask on, before popping the glass front open and the camera focused on human Wainfleet.

“Corporal Wainfleet?! You're with them?” Lyle didn't say anything, ”Wainfleet!” Quaritch yelled again. Lyle fearfully pointed his weapon at his Commander. “Alright then,” Quaritch lowered his voice, Quaritch threw the spear at Lyle. But Jake tackled human Lyle out of the way, rolling them away, before getting back up on his feet. Taking a hold of the spear that struck the earth, Jake spun the spear around as Quaritch charged him, managing to aim the spear at Quaritch’s chest stopping his movements. The AMP suit turned, showing all the faces of everyone involved. Turning to Sully’s woman, she struck an arrow in his chest. A small gasp escaped Quaritch’s lips. And another arrow was struck for extra measure.

The video stopped there. It answered everything that everyone wanted to ask. All hell broke loose. Warren went for me first and I put two bullets into his head, I grabbed the girl next to me as I was getting away. Walker lunged for human me but managed to shoot her though her cheek into her head. A sudden arrow flew toward Zhang who pointed his gun at me as the girl and I ran for cover. Jake’s boy pulled the pin on Prager’s smoke bomb, sending green gas everywhere.

“Kids! Run!” human me screamed over the mess, throwing himself over a fallen log. Another arrow shot at Brown in the eye who tried grabbing him. Making my way toward (Y/N) I pulled the girl in front of me, pushing her toward (Y/N)’s direction, explosive rounds shot at us. She looked back at me, her expression shifted to hesitation though continuing forward.

“Tuk! Kiri!” (Y/N)’s voice screamed out, waving her arm. (Y/N). She’s alive! Though she didn't look very happy when our eyes met.

A small body collided into mine. Looking down, I saw my human form making his way to (Y/N). three more banshee’s landing nearby.

“Dad!” Spider ran into view.

“Run to Mom!” Mom?! She’s his Mom? The two other kids ran toward the banshee’s. Oh Shit! Jake and his mate. I chucked my weapon away from me, stripping off my tactical vest whilst still running toward (Y/N). Breaching the tree line with my arms up in surrender the faces of Jake and Neytiri morphed into shock.

“I’ll explain later,” human me said to the two of them as Jake helped him onto his banshee. (Y/N) held her hand out for me to grab as I climbed on behind her. The banshee ascended suddenly before I could get a good grip on (Y/N) in front of me.

“Quaritch called for extraction, a bird is coming to pick ‘em up,” human me explained to Jake, “we can’t go back to camp, not yet anyways.” I hear him say over the wind.

“Shit,” Jake cursed, ignoring the fact that his kid is sitting in front of him. I gripped onto (Y/N), her warm body fit perfectly in my arms, though she stiffened at my touch. Feeling eyes on me I looked to the other Na’vi and human me staring at me. Though my human self had a different look in his eyes.

(Reader’s POV)

This was strange. Lyle had prepared me for this, but it was still unexpected. Seeing his clone in the blue flesh was creeping me out. My lover who fit in my palm, his blue clone was now sitting behind me on my ikran, his avatar body covering mine suddenly making me feel small again. Just like years ago when I was human. Spider turned to look at me, an unreadable expression on his face. Before turning back to look at the sky. Jake took the lead on his ikran, flying ahead. I took that as a sign to follow him avoiding the floating islands and vines though we weren't heading toward High Camp. Landing on a distant island we dismounted.

“You lot stay here,” Jake said, dropping off Lo’ak and human Lyle, keeping his eye on the blue Lyle, “I’ll make sure they’re gone and come back for you guys.” He nudged his ikran to fly off, as Neytiri, Neteyam and I walked into the tall plants. Picking up my little humans like they weighed nothing into the bioluminescent flora. Ignoring the yellow eyes that followed my figure. Resting my back on a tree with human Lyle and Spider between my legs, his avatar sat opposite us, resting his back on the tree. My two boys eyed the avatar up and down as Kiri came to sit by my side, doing the same. We sat in awkward silence.

“What in Eywa?” Neteyam broke the silence.

“Don't ask,” Spider said, keeping his gaze on the avatar in front of us. My two humans leaned back onto my stomach relaxing a little at the warmth, though not daring to look away. Lyle rested his hand on my thigh running his tiny thumb in circles, maintaining eye contact with his blue form, his other arm around Spider’s shoulders. Despite the situation, Spider fell asleep, his exhaustion hitting much harder than we thought. The lot of us are not daring to address the big blue elephant in the room, or in this case; jungle. The silence was broken once again by someone's stomach growling in hunger.

“So, we’re not gonna address what's happening right now?” Lo’ak finally said, “Uncle Lyle?” The avatar’s ears perked at the title.

“Uncle?” the avatar asked.

“Yeah, I'm an Uncle. Deal with it,” Lyle’s stoic demeanour cracked a little, “So………You're here.”

“And……So are you,” the avatar replied like a reflection, “The RDA lied to me. Told me that I died and was cloned in your place.”

“Yeah, the RDA tends to do that,” the conversation ended dryly, but thankfully Jake returned with good news.

“They’re gone. Finally,” Jake saunters through the shrubs facing his youngest son, ”I'm gonna talk to you later, but first of all…” he turned to the camo wearing avatar, “...Wainfleet. Are you working with the RDA?”

“W-what?” he stutters, “No. I thought I was at first, but I remember betraying them. I remember busting you two, Norm and Grace out. I remember killing my own people for you,” he explained, “Then I woke up in space, being shipped down to Bridgehead, everything up ‘til this point. The middle was weirdly left out.”

I looked at Jake, he made eye contact with me already knowing the situation. “Let's head to High Camp. We’ll explain once we’re there,” we all stood up, I carried Spider in my arms who was passed out. Calling for Tìter, she landed close by, Lyle took Spider from me as I mounted first before reaching down for the two of them, sitting them in front of me.

Part 4

taglist:

@drinking-tea-and-be-obsessed @cumikering @ducks118 @writerfromcz

#avatar #avatar x reader #avatar x you #avatar x y/n #avatar x na'vi reader #avatar fanfiction #avatar fanfic #avatar wainfleet #wainfleet x reader #wainfleet fanfic #wainfleet fanfiction #grace augustine x reader #grace augustine

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