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sinfultray1408 · 2 years ago

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Scene Comparisons: -3-

My Life With Chaplin: An Intimate Memoir by Lita Grey Chaplin with Morton Cooper (pg. 29-33)

Wife of the Life of the Party: A Memoir by Lita Grey Chaplin and Jeffrey Vance (pg. 23-26)

Occasionally [Chaplin] arrived late when he'd worked late the night before, and on one such morning Mama and I got to the studio before he did. When he came in he saw me alone - Mama had stepped away somewhere - and took my arm as he walked toward his dressing room.

"Come with me. I want to show you something," he said.

I went with him, puzzled and a bit nervous.

His dressing room, at the farthest end of a long row of studio offices that stretched the full length of the block between Sunset Boulevard and DeLongpre, was actually a bungalow, consisting of a plushly furnished living room with a fireplace, an alcove-like room with a three-way mirrored dressing table, a wardrobe closet and a tile bath-room. There were few physical reminders that these were his quarters - he was not a vain man - but the walls were decorated with autographed photographs of the famous.

He shucked off his coat as I pretended to concentrate on the inscriptions by Galli-Curci, Winston Churchill, Enrico Caruso, George Bernard Shaw and Georges Carpentier. I was relieved when his Japanese valet materialized from somewhere and blandly, silently, began to prepare his master's costume and makeup. The room was filled with the scent of some exotic perfume.

Mr. Chaplin pointed to a chair near his dressing table and invited me to sit down. With a faint smile he produced the unframed painting the artist had done of me (Age of Innocence photograph) and asked, "Well, how do you like it?"

It was an extremely flattering likeness, but it gave my eyes a kind of wistful, reflective sadness I hadn't suspected I possessed. Blushing a little, I answered, "It's very nice, but it makes me a hundred times better looking than I am."

"Nonsense, nonsense," he said, taking the picture again and studying it absorbedly for a moment. "Whether this makes you beautiful or not doesn't concern me at all. I couldn't be more pleased by what Bert's done. I wanted him to capture that 'Age of Innocence' expression. He did, but he did even more - he caught that special elusive quality in your eyes."

"Elusive?" I repeated. I had no idea what the word meant.

Nodding, he handed the picture to Kono, the valet. “I've been peeking at you, my dear, when you haven't been looking. I've been more and more drawn to those fascinating eyes of yours. They're so very young and yet so - oh, what is the description? Mature, possibly. No, that isn't quite it." He smiled. "They make you seem very mysterious." He tied a large makeup cloth around his neck and turned to the mirror.

I had been told by my family and others that I had pretty eyes, but no one had ever called them, or me, mysterious. Being in the same room with this famous man scared me half to death. And being called mysterious scared me even more.

"Your name, 'Lillita' ... you're Latin, of course." It was a statement, not a question.

"Well, sort of half." I said, "Spanish, and there's some English and Irish and Welsh thrown in." Some kids made fun of my name and called me "Spik-Mick," a nickname that angered and disgusted me.

"And only twelve years old! Amazing!" he marveled, as though no one had ever been twelve years old before. He was slapping pink greasepaint on his face as the valet moved efficiently and silently about. There was a minute of awkward quiet as Mr. Chaplin stared at his reflection in the mirror, outlined his eyes with a black pencil and mascaraed his eyelashes. Then: "My dear, have you given much thought to being a player in motion pictures? Oh, of course you have - all children have those dreams, I'm sure. But I mean, have you thought of it seriously?"

I watched him methodically put powder over the greasepaint and tint his sideburns, and I wondered if I dared confess that I didn't really care all that much about being in the movies as a career. Every other girl my age would've given anything to be a movie star like Mary Pickford - my best friend, Merna Kennedy, seldom talked about anything else - but I'd never really had any daydreams about becoming famous. I'd been thrilled when Hal Parker had arranged for Mama and me to be extras in the Geraldine Farrar and Wallace Reid picture, and I was just as thrilled now by working for Charlie Chaplin. It was fun, something exciting to do for the time being, but the thought of doing it all the time wasn't especially tantalizing. In answering him, though, I tried to soften it. "I - ah - I don't know if I'd be good enough," I said.

He laughed. “‘Good enough’?” He rubbed some spirit gum on his upper lip, pasted on the Chaplin moustache and jumped to his feet so fast that he startled me.

"Perhaps I can be the better judge of that," he declared, and strode to the wall where his tramp costume was hung. The valet drew a curtain in front of him.

"There's an idea or two popping about in my head," came Mr. Chaplin's voice from behind the curtain. "I haven't figured them through, quite, but what would you think about taking a test to see whether you'd photograph well on the screen?"

He's serious, I thought. None of us had tested for parts as street urchins in The Kid; our parts were so insignificant that individual tests would have been too much trouble and taken too much time. But when you were offered a screen test, that meant you were being considered for something important. I must have been dumbfounded, because he called, "Lillita? Are you there?"

"Yes," I called back. "I'm - well, I guess I should talk with my mother…”

There was impatience in his tone. "She'll come into the discussion, naturally. But I'm not asking her opinion now. I'm asking your opinion."

"It - sounds very exciting."

There were three sharp taps at the door. As Kono opened it I turned and saw Mama, looking awfully concerned about something. Before Kono could speak she stepped in, glancing everywhere at once - at me, sitting near the dressing table, at the impassive valet, at the drawn curtain. I immediately got up, aware that Mama was upset, and just as immediately I felt guilty, although I didn't know why I should.

"Why didn't you tell me you were coming here?" Mama demanded loudly, her dark eyes now trained relentlessly on the curtain. For a second I was afraid she was going to lunge toward that curtain and pull it back.

Before I could answer, Mr. Chaplin called, "What's all that? Who's that?"

He came out, dressed in his tramp outfit except for the jacket and shoes. He regarded Mama with a slight frown, awaiting an explanation for her uninvited entrance. Now that Mr. Chaplin was in charge, Kono imperturbably slipped to a neutral corner of the bungalow.

Although she had been frowning a moment before, Mama withered under that displeased look. Her voice and her manner became timid. "Forgive me, Mr. Chaplin. I didn't mean to barge in like this…”

"Oh? What did you mean to do?"

Ruffled, she backed away slightly, closer to me. "I was looking all over for Lillita. I was - worried…the studio is so big and all. Then someone said they saw her walking here with you, and I - well, I am her mother, after all…”

Now his frown was chilling. "I'm afraid I don't appreciate the form your worry takes, Mrs. McMurray. I am not in the habit of seducing twelve-year-old girls."

Apologizing, babbling an explanation about how mothers worried about their daughters, Mama only made matters worse. Mr. Chaplin nodded to the valet to fetch his shoes and jacket and then simply turned away from her, signifying that he wished the subject dropped. He had an unusual facility for making something deafening out of silence, and he demonstrated it that morning in the way he dismissed us. He made no sound or gesture - yet Mama and I were out the door without remembering how we got there.

Charlie was a very private man. Few people, outside of Alf Reeves, his secretary Nellie Bly Baker, or very special guests, were allowed access to his dressing room. I guess I was very special on the day I asked if I could see Charlie's collection of autographed photos that adorned his dressing room walls. Charlie welcomed me to come and look at them. "I've not had such a request from someone as young as you, Lillita," he said. "Of course you may see them. If you like, you may also watch me put on the Tramp's makeup." I was thrilled and waited for Mama to be busy so I would not be thwarted in my visit to his dressing room.

A short time later I knocked at Charlie's dressing room. Kono opened the door and invited me inside. The first thing I noticed upon entering the inner sanctum was the aroma of Guerlain's Mit-souko. It permeated every place where Charlie had been. When I mentioned the fragrance to Charlie, he acknowledged that he had Kono buy it in large bottles. "I love it," he said with a smile.

An entire wall in Charlie's dressing room was devoted to autographed photos of such famous personages as Anna Pavlova, Jascha Heifetz, Amelita Galli-Curci, Vaslav Nijinsky, and Enrico Caruso. All were inscribed to Charlie. After carefully examining the photos, Charlie invited me to sit down. Kono offered me a chair. "You can now watch me as I make the transformation into the Tramp," said Charlie with childlike glee.

Though it was obvious that this room had no pretensions of being anything other than a large dressing room, the furnishings looked expensive. An impressive three-piece sectional sofa graced one corner of the room, and a large cabinet occupied a nearby wall. On the north wall an open door led to a white-tiled bathroom laden with lotions and monogrammed towels. In one corner was a special setup for makeup and clothes changes. Above where Charlie sat was a curtain on a metal ring that was pulled around to hide anyone changing clothes.

Charlie took a tube containing the base makeup used in films called greasepaint. Smearing it on his face and smoothing it out evenly was the first step in making up. He then used a dark eyebrow pencil to blacken his eyebrows and ring his eyes. He used a giant powder puff to powder all this, then cut a small mustache from a sheet of crêpe hair with a pair of scissors. He applied spirit gum to his upper lip then pressed on the mustache, trimming it as needed with the scissors. “I never comb or brush my hair in the morning when I get up if I'm going to make up as the Tramp," he said as he frizzed up his hair with his hands. "I like the Tramp's hair to look unkempt under his bowler."

Kono pulled the curtain around and Charlie stood behind it, with only the Tramp's head exposed. He looked at me and winked, pulled on his baggy trousers, and put on the oversized shoes and the tattered vest. "Voilà!" he said. Stepping out from behind the curtain, he emerged as the world-famous Tramp. Putting on the derby hat and grasping the bamboo cane, he began to waddle around the room and assumed some of the character's familiar stances. The transformation made a terrific impression on me, because he became a totally different person when he was in costume. It was as if he was in a different world.

I applauded this wonderful performance, and Charlie took a bow. Our revelry was soon interrupted by a knock at the door. It was my mother.

"Well, here you are!" she said. "I wouldn't have known where you were if one of the property men hadn't seen you come down this way. I was worried."

"Well, your daughter's all right, Mrs. Parker," Charlie said. "She's been admiring my photograph collection and watching me make up. Won't you have a cup of tea? Kono has some steeping."

"Oh, no, thank you," Mama said curtly. "We must go now. I've promised Lillita's grandmother we'd take her to lunch.

“Thank you,” I said to Charlie, and I followed Mama out the door.

#charlie chaplin #lita grey #memoir #the tramp #the little tramp #scene comparison 3

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moonstrider9904 · 3 years ago

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Chapter 1 - Landfall

Chapter Summary: After receiving a message from Rex, Sarah returns to the GAR in hopes of finding Echo, but first she'll have to meet a new squad of clones.

Word count: 4.7k

Warnings/tags: mentions of death and mourning, canon-typical violence, language. Nothing way too intense this chapter but the angst makes its way in there.

A/N: I've been so excited to post this! This is a rewrite of my very first TBB fanfic which I've improved in that the writing is better now, the chapters are no longer just retellings of the episodes the way they are, and I just like this a lot more and I really hope you all will too. Thank you for reading!

Series Masterlist | Next Chapter | AO3 link |Wattpad link | Tip: Read Sarah's backstory before reading this chapter

Sarah

“Stars, I hope you’re doing alright. I hope you receive this message. Sarah… it’s Echo. I think and could almost swear he’s alive, I can’t stop thinking about it. But if I’m to figure this out, I need you here. I need you to come back. The generals don’t know all of it and they won’t know any of it until I’m sure it’s him. I… I need you, Sarah, and if he’s alive, Echo will need you too. We ship out in three standard rotations’ time. Hope to see you there.”

She’d repeated Rex’s holo message for one last time before the gunship touched down on the base on Anaxes. It was weird to her how one could become so familiar with a certain place, that even if she’d spent a long time without being in it, the next time she did felt completely normal, like it hadn't been ages since she was last there.

The sound of the dropship's engines revving, the feeling of its movement as it glided through the air, were so oddly familiar that it gave Sarah a strange sense of home, but barely. It was still different than the old days; for starters, she was inside the deck of that gunship alone. The only other person was the pilot flying it, when in the old days, she would have been surrounded by troopers, men she called her friends and fought alongside. The lonely silence of that ship only got her thinking, making her pinch her bottom lip the way she always did when she was anxious.

Rex thinks Echo’s alive.

She still felt odd returning to the army. The possibility of Echo being alive and the fact that Captain Rex himself had solicited her presence were reason enough for her to reappear, but a part of her feared she wouldn’t be welcome. And with everything that had happened, the last thing she needed was to feel rejected, much less alone all over again.

Stop thinking that, Sarah cut her anxious thoughts. She tried convincing herself that if she’d accepted to go back into the battlefield, it was because she was ready. Her intuition had been there–dull in comparison to other times, but it hadn’t left her. It was reason enough.

The pilot spoke over the comms, telling her to brace for landing. Her heart squeezed at the sound of his voice. Before realizing it was the pilot, Sarah could have sworn it was him.

Him.

Fives.

If it wasn’t for Rex’s sake she’d find Echo alive, it would be for that of Fives. And that thought, that very small thorn in her mind, was what decisively pushed her out of that gunship when it finally landed at the base of anaxes and opened its doors for her. The sun was lowering over the horizon, its light illuminating the exotically-colored irises of her eyes, nearly making them flash when she looked up from the ground and was met with the eyes of the captain.

The feeling of never having left returned to her. His armor was unchanged; his helmet still donned the blue jaig eyes. Rex looked at her with the same pained expression he had when he gave her the news of Fives’ demise. They hadn’t spoken much after that, and even if it felt like ages since that, they knew their pain was still shared.

Sarah paced toward Rex, and he watched her. He smiled ever so slightly when he noticed she walked with the same confident sway she always had, the one that made her hair bounce over her shoulders, framing her face, enhancing the marks on her shoulders and arms in the bits of skin her sleeves left visible. She smiled as softly as she could upon reaching him, hesitant to talk, opting to offer him her hand and grasping his forearm in a gesture of respect.

Rex looked at her and, overcome by her return, pulled her in for a hug. In return, Sarah no longer hesitated to hug him back.

“I’ve missed you, kid,” Rex whispered, his voice breaking slightly.

“I’m glad to see you, Rex,” Sarah spoke, her voice soft and soothing.

They parted their embrace and looked at each other with heavy hearts.

“Where have you been, Sarah?” He asked her.

She chuckled, shaking her head slightly. “You wouldn’t like it.”

“So it’s true?” Rex raised a brow, more in amusement than in disappointment. “You were running with pirates?”

“Hondo took good care of me,” Sarah replied. “And someone had to take care of him too.”

Rex chuckled, remembering all the anecdotes he’d heard of the pirate. He looked upon Sarah with sympathy, not once intending to reprimand her. “But it helped you, right?”

She nodded. “Yeah. No atrocities were committed, and it took my mind off things. I’m much better now, I promise. It just…”

“Hey,” Rex kept her from talking more with a hand on her shoulder, his eyes conveying understanding. “I know.”

Sarah sighed with a smile. She knew she could always count on Rex, and with another deep breath, she adopted the posture of a soldier ready to listen to her captain.

“So why am I here, cap?”

Rex smiled at her spirit, and he too straightened. “Well, you received my message.”

“What made you think he’s alive?”

“Every tactic and battle plan we’ve been using has been perfectly countered,” Rex explained. “Nobody could know a plan that well unless they were one of the minds behind it, of which could only be you, me, or Echo.”

Sarah sighed. “Rex, I want to believe Echo’s alive as much as you do.”

“I know,” Rex replied. “I-I know. It’s why I haven’t told the generals, I know it’s far-fetched.”

“Wait, Anakin doesn’t know?”

“No, but I do think he suspects something’s up with me,” Rex replied.

Sarah nodded. “I wouldn’t put it past him to figure it out. But, putting him aside for now, how do we proceed?”

“We’re going behind enemy lines,” Rex said. “You, me, Jesse, Kix, Cody, and an elite squad.”

Sarah raised a brow. “Elite?”

“Cody’s words,” Rex answered. “I haven’t met them yet, but if they work with Cody, they have to be good men.”

"Hey, you!"

Sarah jerked over to the direction of the voice that had interrupted her conversation with Rex, and the sight made her grin with a nostalgic happiness as her eyes filled with tears.

"Jesse!" Sarah then noticed the armor he donned, which was much different than the one he wore when she last saw him. "You're an ARC trooper now?!"

Proudly, Jesse smirked and opened his arms. "Sure am, baby! You like the armor?"

“I love it!” Sarah leapt into Jesse’s arms and hugged him tightly, letting just a couple of tears fall as she was swarmed with memories of Umbara, of his bravery, his brotherhood to Fives and to the 501st. If anyone deserved to be an ARC trooper, it was Jesse.

"I'm so proud of you,” Sarah said as she parted the hug and turned to see another familiar face, that of the clone medic Kix. He’d let his hair grow out, but in his eyes was the same kindness and spark he always had. Sarah whent to hug Kix too, mindful of all the times he’d saved lives. Force knew he’d saved her more than a couple times–she could be just as reckless as Fives.

“Rex didn’t tell us you’d be here,” Jesse commented.

“It was last minute, to be honest,” Sarah replied. “I’m just glad you’re all happy to see me.”

“We are, which is more than we can say about this so-called elite squad,” Jesse side-eyed Rex.

“So I’ve heard,” Sarah said. “What have you got against them?”

“They’re insane, even for 501st standards,” Kix replied.

“Come now, vode, you said you’d be nice to our deviant brothers.”

Sarah looked over Jesse’s shoulder to see Cody joining the scene with the grace he always carried himself with. He walked up to Sarah and crossed his fist over his heart, bowing at her in respect as was a gesture common back in Jedha. Sarah smiled and reciprocated the gesture only to hug him too afterwards.

“I’m glad to see you, Cody,” she said. “Now, could you tell me more about this elite squad? The curiosity’s making my marks burn.”

Cody chuckled, happy to see even the recent tragedy hadn’t taken away her spark. “Perhaps you could meet them yourself. They’re due to arrive soon.”

As he said that, Sarah did feel something. It was a feeling similar to when the Force was trying to tell her something, but her own intuition let her know the message was different. It was as if her heart was warming and leaping, and it only calmed down when she saw a peculiar ship emerging from the horizon.

The Omicron-class shuttle with more than a few modifications relentlessly approached the landing bay, startling more than one trooper on it. It then landed, its engines hissing with steam as it powered down, only raising Sarah’s curiosity.

“Who are they?” She asked Cody.

Cody smirked lightly. “Clone Force 99.”

The shuttle’s door opened and revealed its crew. Their armor was dark gray with red highlights, instantly contrasting with the other troopers, with the exception of the second man to leave the ship, whose armor was white. Sarah tried to take them all in at once, noticing the differences in the models of their helmets, all adapted to what she could only assume were their proficiencies.

It was obvious to her that they owned every room they walked into. As they walked toward them, each removed their helmets one by one, further shocking Sarah by how distinct they all looked. They all had the same bronze skin, they had features that were clearly alike, but each one was different, as if they were actual brothers rather than clones of each other.

The one at the back, the biggest and tallest one, was the one who first caught Sarah’s eye. Strength emanated from him, but also fun and kindness. The left side of his face was covered by a large scar, and his left eye had gone white. Next to him was a tall and thin trooper with round goggles and armor loaded with compartments and gadgets. As soon as he’d taken his helmet off, he’d given the crowd a confident little smile, one that won Sarah’s trust and heart immediately. Her intuition told her she could learn endless things from him.

As her eyes drifted to the other two troopers, the feeling she’d received previously grew. They’d taken their helmets off nearly at the same time, but they could not appear more different. One was shorter, with half of his face decorated with a skull tattoo. His curls were thick, pitch-black, and flowing down to his neck, secured with a red bandana with a little skull on it. Next to him stood the taller trooper, the most eye-catching. He was slender, thin, and his curls were silver rather than the usual black or even dark-brown. A tattoo of a crosshair framed his right eye, signifying him as the marksman of the group. He looked unkind, but Sarah knew better than to judge him as that straight away. And as the sharpshooter’s eyes met hers, they lingered on her gaze, popping a toothpick in his mouth as he took in the odd appearance of her irises before looking away without another regard.

She wanted his eyes back on her the moment he looked away; she felt her marks burning at his presence and she didn’t know why.

Cody walked up to them and grasped the leader’s hand, the one with the skull tattoo. “This is Sergeant Hunter, the one in charge of Clone Force 99.”

The sergeant had a confident look to him as greeted Rex and the others with his gaze, a gaze that Sarah could have sworn lingered on her for fractions of a second before he turned back to Rex.

“Pardon the delay, we were trying not to get eaten on Yalbec Prime,” said Hunter.

The goggled clone cleared his throat to correct, “Mated with.”

“Somehow, Tech, no matter how many times you say that, you never make it sound better,” Hunter chuckled.

“I am not attempting to make it sound better, facts are facts,” Tech replied matter-of-factly, drawing a soft laugh from Sarah and an exchange of looks from Jesse and Kix.

As the conversation drew on, Tech proved he had a million words to say. The remaining introductions were made: the charismatic giant with an undying love for explosions and excitement was Wrecker, and the opposedly quiet, serious trooper who was a walking mystery was appropriately named Crosshair, the sniper of the team.

With that, they all took to their assigned gunship and left the base and flew in the direction of the cyber center. Cody briefed the mission on the way there and had everyone’s unconditional attention. After he finished and everyone was at ease for the remainder of the flight, Sarah was once more filled with the sensation of nostalgia of flying into a mission surrounded by troopers, maybe with Ahsoka or Anakin in the same ship as her. Before the image of Fives’ confident smile before battle could invade her mind, Sarah looked up and saw a pair of eyes already looking at her.

The sergeant smiled at her softly. “And who are you?”

She smiled in return. “I’m a soldier, like you.”

“Are you a Jedi?”

“No,” she answered. “I do wield the Force, but I’m not a Jedi. You can just call me Sarah.”

Hunter raised a brow. “No rank, huh?”

“I’m not in it for the rank,” Sarah continued to smile kindly at him. She took in the deeper, smokier quality of his voice, making it stand out from the others. Deep inside her, Sarah appreciated that–at the very least, hearing him speak wouldn’t constantly remind her of Fives for the time being.

The light-hearted introduction was cut short when Sarah picked up a note of tension in the air, but by that time, Jesse was already glaring at the sniper, who had a sly smirk on his face as he chewed on a toothpick.

“What’s his problem?” Sarah whispered at Hunter.

Hunter couldn’t help but laugh at her question. “Everything. Do you want the long answer or the short one?”

“I heard that,” Crosshair spoke, his voice sliding into Sarah’s ears like a snake, making them ring. His timbre was different than that of the other troopers, much quieter and lower-pitched. It took her mind off her previous question and left her only thinking of him, lingering on the very effect his voice had on her.

“Is it not true?” Hunter chuckled, turning to Sarah. “You see, my youngest brother is a bit of a prick to everyone; just don’t take it personally and you’ll be fine.”

Crosshair rolled his eyes at Hunter’s remark and glared at Jesse once more, only making the ARC trooper angrier.

“Will you stop staring at me?” Jesse growled.

Crosshair sneered and took the toothpick between his fingers. “That’s some nice, shiny armor you got there. Might want to get a few battle scars on it or no one’s going to believe you’re an ARC.” With a smug grin, he flicked the toothpick at Jesse’s chest where a blue stripe was painted, the tip lightly scratching the blue and leaving a thin white mark in its place.

Crosshair’s arrogance grew. “Gave you a head start.”

“You little shit–” Jesse was ready to throw hands at the sniper, and he’d have done it had it not been for Sarah’s hand on his wrist, stopping him.

“Jesse, you’re better than him,” she said softly, but loud enough for Crosshair to hear. She could feel his gaze dropping, even though he’d lost the grin immediately. She was just starting to think about how, despite him acting like a bully, he didn’t seem proud or satisfied with what he was doing. He looked pained, as if Jesse had somehow hurt him before, or been responsible for something that did.

But the ship was hit by a loud crash! and everyone tumbled as the gunship began to go down. Between the mayhem, Sarah made out few details, such as Wrecker’s laughter of excitement and the three pairs of hands that reached out to ensure her safety. Within seconds, the ship had crashed onto the ground of Anaxes.

Her ears were ringing. It would still take her a few seconds to gain her consciousness again, and in her haziness, she thought she saw Crosshair reaching for her only for him to be shoved aside by Jesse, who picked her up and took her out of the crash-landed gunship.

Sarah dropped on her hands and knees and coughed once she was out of the ship with a worried Jesse next to her. She clawed her fingertips onto the ground and drew whatever energy she could–Jesse had almost forgotten she could do that–and slowly she began to feel better, almost normal. Sarah managed to stand up with Jesse’s help and they looked at the gunship as the remaining troopers got out only for them to realize one of them was missing.

“Cody,” Sarah said with worry. Her heart sank. She could normally levitate objects with ease, but powerful as she was, big ships were always difficult for her, more so in her current state.

Rex was about to run into the ship, but he was stopped by Hunter while Wrecker walked towards it cracking his knuckles and stretching his neck. With great effort, but still unimaginable strength, Wrecker lifted the gunship off of Cody and shoved it back, retrieving Cody’s unconscious body right before the ship exploded.

Wrecker carefully dropped Cody in front of Rex and Sarah. The sight of him so hurt made Sarah’s chest heave in agitation, his face suddenly looking too much like Fives. Kix performed a quick scan of Cody in an effort to calm the situation if only a little.

“He has internal bleeding, there’s not much I can do except cut the pain,” he said. Kix then noticed Sarah’s state, and he reached a hand out to her shoulder. “He’ll live.”

Sarah then took a deep breath and managed to calm down slightly, deciding to trust in Kix’s word and knowing he’d never lie to her, not even for the sake of telling her what she wanted to hear.

New matters began to arise when, with her hands on the ground again, Sarah felt the vibration of an army of droids heading to their position. It wasn’t the biggest army she’d known of, but there were too many for them to deal with especially with one man down. She looked up at Rex with dismay.

“Droids are coming here, and we’re outnumbered,” she said.

“Then we hold this position, clear them out by waves and hold out as much as we can,” Rex ordered, taking on the role of commanding officer now that Cody was down.

“Come on, captain, you have us,” Hunter said as he put his helmet on. “You’re going to have to do a few things our way, and our way is rushing head on.” He then looked over at his men. “You know what to do. Make it nice for our guests.”

“Ho ho oh, yeah,” Wrecker cracked his knuckles once more and looked at Sarah through his visor. “Watch and be amazed, pretty girl.”

Using a fragment of the gunship's door to use it as a shield, the four of them charged together. They made a stop a few hundred meters out there and Wrecker set the door down, standing still until Hunter threw a grenade at the droids which Crosshair shot mid-air, making the blast wider so it would take down more droids.

Against her will, Sarah’s jaw dropped at such accurate shooting, which Jesse didn’t find amusing. As the battle drew on, it seemed more like they’d remain standing there while the squad of clearly enhanced clones took care of the rest, so Sarah figured she’d do as Wrecker requested and allowed herself to feel amazed by their tactics. In little time, the army had been cleared out thanks to the combined efforts, leaving the path cleared for the squadron to move forward. Everyone regrouped almost as quickly as they had scattered and looked to Rex, awaiting the next course of action.

“We’ll have to continue on foot towards the cyber center; the sooner we move out of here, we’ll make better time,” Rex said.

“What about Cody?” Sarah asked.

“I’ll carry him,” Wrecker walked up to Kix, who held Cody protectively. “Trust me.”

Reluctant, Kix nodded and let Wrecker carry Cody, who proved to be careful with his wounded body. Wrecker then turned to Rex. “Where do we head, cap?”

“West,” Rex replied. “Hiding among plant life is our best option. We need be out of sight when the Separatists come and scout the area. Alright everyone, let’s move.”

The sun began to set on its course down the sky as Rex began to lead the way into the crystal-like forests of Anaxes. Sarah took one final look at the barren plains where the battle had just taken place before getting behind Jesse, who moved her in front of him to keep watch over her.

After a couple hours, they’d advanced so much they began to feel soreness on their feet. The sun had gone down and Rex felt it was best to stop and rest; they set up camp and all went to mind their own business, though no one could really sleep.

The enhanced clones mostly kept to themselves. Kix and Jesse shared some rations over a nice chat while Rex looked after Cody, whose condition seemed to be getting more delicate. Sarah stepped to the edge of the campsite and looked up at the sky, relishing in the sight of the green auroras she so seldom saw. Thoughts swarmed her mind, making her heart ache, until she felt compelled to look back at ground level to see Hunter kneeling on the ground with his hand on the soil not unlike she would do.

Sarah’s curiosity once again got the better of her and she walked over to Hunter, kneeling down next to him. Immediately, she felt his gaze shift onto her, his eyes softening at the sight of her.

"What are you doing?" She asked him.

"Getting a lookout of our surroundings," replied Hunter as he focused on the soil once more. “Wildlife roams a lot around these areas, but I have no reason to believe they’re hostile. It also doesn’t seem any separatists have followed us.”

Sarah then dug her fingers into the soil and felt the vibrations for herself. “A small herd of Fyrnocks is passing through the area, but they won’t be a problem. They like this environment and won’t see us as a threat. Three of them are nearby out campsite, but they’re merely curious.”

Hunter raised his brows at her. "Yeah, that's what I found, excluding the detail of their curiosity."

Sarah looked at him and found that he was still somewhat staring at her.

"It's my eyes, isn't it?" She asked.

"Yeah," he said, stuttering slightly. "Forgive me for staring."

Sarah chuckled in understanding. “They've been described as little windows into space, my eyes, as if you could see nebulae when gazing into them.” She smiled lightly in response and got her hand off the soil, lightly brushing the dirt off it.

"What did you just do?" He asked Sarah.

"Same as you," I say. "I tracked our surroundings."

"But how?"

I hold out my hand. "Not being a Jedi means I can master different ways of using the Force. That and I’m a bit of a freak of nature."

"Well," Hunter smiled. "Then you and I aren’t that different."

“That’s never sounded as appealing as it does now,” she answered. “The whole not being a Jedi thing, I mean.”

"So long as you're sure that's the right path for you," he told her.

"Oh, I'm certain," Sarah gestured at her arms and face. "These marks appeared the day I decided not to become one."

"I thought those were just tattoos," Hunter looked at them.

"Nope," she said. "It's a long story. The Force sometimes does things to let me know I'm on the right track. Sometimes it's this through marks, other times, merely intuition. That's how I knew I had to play a role in the war."

Just then, the Fyrnock that had been watching over us walked up in front of Hunter and Sarah. It bowed its head down as it approached Sarah, and she stroked its nuzzle and looked at its glowing yellow eyes, silently thanking it for looking out for them.

"Is that part of what you can do?" Hunter asked her.

"Yes and no," Sarah replied, her voice harmonizing with the Fyrnock’s purr. "I can bond easily with most animals, but this is the first time I can ever bond with a Fyrnock."

"And how does that work?"

"Same as everything else," said Sarah. "The Force is just energy surrounding everything. Knowing how to wield it you can know many things. I can bond with animals, feel their intentions as they can mine, I know what every plant is good for as soon as I lay eyes on it. I can track anything using vibrations, not unlike you. I can also do the good old levitating objects and mind tricks like the Jedi do."

"That's amazing," Hunter smiled at her, visibly impressed.

"Yeah," she averted her gaze as she felt her cheeks heat up. "It took years of practice though."

The Fyrnock decided to walk off once it had had its share of cuddles, leaving Sarah and Hunter alone together in the silence.

"Okay, I'm just going to say it," Sarah said after the words nagged at her tongue. "That was impressive back there."

Hunter chuckled. "Yeah, we get that a lot."

"And with reason," she agreed.

"Well," Hunter shifted to face her, speaking with a smooth voice. "If you ever want to get a different scope of things, you can always tag along with us."

Sarah felt her body still. "Are you asking me to join you?"

Before Hunter could answer her, a yelp coming up from behind them drew their attention to the campsite. Wrecker and Jesse were arguing, with the former picking up the latter up off the ground in a choke hold. Meanwhile, Crosshair and Kix shoved each other and wrestled, and it was obvious it was no friendly banter between siblings. Sarah and Hunter rushed to the scene; she broke the quarrel between Kix and Crosshair while Hunter ordered Wrecker to put Jesse down, and they both had to struggle to quiet them all down in the series of insults that were leaving them mutually.

When it seemed like Crosshair still wanted to throw hands, Hunter was forced to grab him.

“We’re not cadets anymore, I shouldn’t have to tell you to behave,” Hunter growled, his voice sounding different than it had when he and Sarah were talking.

Crosshair glared at Hunter, but he knew he was right. He then looked over at Sarah, who rested a hand on Jesse’s shoulder trying to calm him down. She didn’t have to speak for him to know she was disappointed, and only then did he fully stand down.

With the fighting being done, Sarah let out a heavy sigh before approaching Rex. “What are your orders?”

“We gear up and move out,” Rex replied. “Cody and Kix stay behind, but we need to make it our priority to reach that Cyber Center.”

The two exchanged a solemn look, as though they were both remembering why they were there, and they nodded at each other discreetly.

Echo, Sarah thought to herself. We’re here for Echo.

Rex put his helmet on and gave a final nod to Kix before leading the troop out again. “Let’s move.”

Jesse lightly brushed Sarah’s shoulder as he walked by her and she took to following him, looking sideways slightly to catch a look of Crosshair, who observed her from afar.

The feeling she’d gotten when she first met him had not ceased even a little.

#the moonwalker series #the bad batch #clone force 99 #the bad batch fanfiction #tbb fanfiction #tbb crosshair #tbb hunter #crosshair #hunter #captain rex #moonstrider writes

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tedisnotdead · 4 years ago

Text

The water flow stopped, and Andrew sighed, picking up the towel. He looked at himself in the mirror, his eyes scanning across the plain chest and stopping before his view reached his elbows.

"Andrew?" a voice called from the other side of the door, startling him. Andrew took a quick breath, closing his eyes before sighing, reminding himself of where he was. Renee's bathroom. Allison was downstairs, probably preparing baby Seth to stand in the crowd with her. "Nicky just left me your clothes. Do you want me to leave them in the spare room for you?"

"Yess." Andrew replied, looking down and pulling his boxers on. "I'll be out in a second." He reached for the armbands, pulling them on and tucking his thumb into the holes before walking out.

Betsy, Nicky and Erik were changing at home. They didn't need the preparation like the twins did, they wouldn't get picked. Jesse was safe too, wrapped up between his dads but next year he wouldn't. Next year he would be up there, and Andrew couldn't save him. Andrew had already felt the guilt of the six years he missed protecting his cousin and the four years he missed with his brother.

When they were united two years ago, it was a shock to everyone around them. Andrew had been in Betsy's care his entire life before then, with help from Renee for a few years during his more rebellious phase. When Renee started her fighting lessons twelve years ago, he was one of the firsts to sign up. Eight years after Andrew signed up, another Andrew signed up. Renee knew it wasn't him. And she mentioned it to Betsy, who connected the fourteen-year olds and since took them both in, alongside their cousin. A year later, Nicky introduced his boyfriend and his son to the family, and they were welcomed with open arms.

Betsy took two-week-old Andrew in from the day she saw him left on the side of the work field, wrapped in only a blanket. She took him home, where eight-year-old Renee was waiting. She hadn't been ditched like Andrew, she has been unfortunately orphaned by a factory malfunction and lost her mother at only six.

Renee and Andrew grew up alongside each other, but when she left for the games at age thirteen, they knew they would never be the same. Renee came back a victor, that's when she started her fighting lessons. Betsy advised against it but saw her development and let her work. When Andrew questioned her why she let her fight after she had won, Betsy reminded him Renee had won for a reason.

That's when he met Wymack. David Wymack, the winner of the forty-third Hunger Games. David Wymack, the man who relied on the pain of tattoos to give him a mental escape from the pain that the Games had caused him. The same David Wymack who took Jean Moreau out of Betsy's care less than a week after she took him in.

"Just because Jean was taken in by the Wymacks, it doesn't mean that you're not wanted." Betsy would always say. She would say the same thing every time she took one kid into her home and then they were taken in by a family a few days after. "You are just as valid. You are just as special. You just need to wait for your special time to shine."

Eight years passed and Aaron appeared. They united, Nicky was introduced, and Betsy took them all in. Betsy introduced them to Wymack, who introduced them to his kids and the Boyds. Befriending the entire of the Victors Village was a kick in the guts to Andrew. A reminder how he wasn't special, how he was basically nothing in comparison to some people.

Jean remembered him though. Jean made him feel special way. Not a romantic or sexual thing. Andrew knew those. Well, he knew sexual. He knew from all the hook-ups behind the factories, he knew from the nights he stayed at Roland's, a classmate in Renee's fighting class, and experimented with things. He knew from the start he was gay, but never said it out loud. He wasn't too confident when it came to romantic feelings however, but he had an idea.

Jean Moreau-Wymack was his first and only friend. Renee accepted this, seeing how they're bond was more sibling like than friends. Jean joined him on the tree searched. Andrew taught him to climb quick, how to spot the nests quickly, how to remove both wasp and birds safely. In return, Jean baked him sweet goods. The banana breads and cakes and muffins rolled through the door daily, Jean delivering them every morning with a small smile. Occasionally, Jean would bake with exotic flavors that David Wymack brought back from his annual visits to the Capitol.

With all the time Andrew had started spending Jean, Aaron began spending it with the other child in the Wymack household. Kevin Wymack-Day. David's biological child from a woman he didn't meet again after their one-night stand.

When Kayleigh, Kevin's mother, passed Kevin had been put in the custody of David. Jean, Kayleigh's other child, had been given to Betsy to be cared for. David hunted him down and took him in, not having the heart to separate the kids.

Aaron and Kevin clicked the second they met. Both being insufferable, obsessive assholes in Andrew's opinion (and Jean's, but that was one of the secrets between the two that were shared in the tops of trees over a muffin each). Aaron's obsession laying in the profession of David's wife, Abby Wymack. One of the best doctors in District 7. Since Aaron became closer with her, he became more obsessed over the profession and soon, if he survived the final reaping, would become her apprentice. Kevin's obsession laid in a Capitol sport, Exy. Whenever his father visited the Capitol for the games, he would bring back his son merchandise of his favorite teams. David had a friend in the Capitol who recorded every game so he could take them home and Kevin could watch them.

Andrew reached the spare room and froze before remembering where he was. Renee's house. Aaron was at the Wymacks', using their shower like Andrew was using Renee's. He knew the only reason was to see Kevin, and 'secretly' say goodbye and good luck in their own special way.

Their attraction to each other was not unknown, practically everyone knew. But it was obvious they were waiting until Aaron's last reaping, until today, to make anything exclusive. As long as they snuck out of the Victors Village before anyone began to head to the town center, no one would notice the luxurious treatment the twins were getting.

The clothes were spread out, waiting on the spare room bed. Nicky's old black, short sleeved button up shirt and a pair of Erik's old, tight fit, wash jeans. A pair of old boots that Betsy had managed to afford where on the floor, with a pair of Allison's bright pink socks laying neatly in the neck of the boot.

"You'll need to be ready in a few minutes Andrew." Renee's voice filtered through the door again. "The ceremony starts in an hour. People begin to move soon." Her footsteps echoed down the corridor as she left and Andrew looked at the clothes, sighing.

◒◓◒◓◒

Andrew stepped out, seeing Kevin and Aaron talking through a gap in the curtains. He sat back, waiting silently and watched them argue.

"They're horrible." Jean mumbled, sitting next to Andrew on the wall, leaving a large enough space for Capitol's largest man to sit between them. "Kevin kicked me out so I couldn't hear. I think they're talking about their latest hook-up." He took a bite from a muffin, leaving one on the wall beside Andrew. "It was at ours while we were climbing. I think they think we're fucking."

"How disappointed will they be when they find out we don't fuck; we talk shit about them and stuff our faces with shit." Andrew mumbled and Jean giggled, taking another bite. "Truth for a truth?" Jean nodded. "I'm nervous."

"That's well justified." Jean said. "Your name is at the highest chance it's ever been, and ever will be. But some people do sadly have their names in there more than you. So, the chance it being you is low. And the chance it's Aaron is even lower, since your name is still in there from the past years of tesserae. "Jean sighed. "I'm gay. I think." Jean mumbled before looking over.

"Want another round?" Andrew asked and Jean stopped before nodding. He took another bite of his muffin, looking forward again. "I'm gay too." Andrew said, picking his muffin up. "I've known for a few years."

"I have a crush on Jeremy." Jean said. Andrew turned to him, raising an eyebrow. "The baker's son. I used to talk to him a lot when I lived with Kayleigh. She would let me pick up her weekly orders from the bakery and I would pay them with grain and milk. I used to talk to Jeremy every Sunday, and that's why I like baking. Because I like Jeremy. "

Andrew looked back through the window, seeing them still talking. Aaron seemed more angry than usual during their 'conversations'. "You should offer to work there." Andrew suggested. "You could see him more."

Jean laughed, looking down before taking the final bite. "I could, but who would you hang out with then? You haven't got any other friends." "I have Jesse." Andrew said, taking a bite. "This is good. What flavor is it?"

"It's another new one from the Capitol called Palmetto. It's basically a super sweet blood orange." Jean said. "And Jesse doesn't count. He's got school you know."

"I'll teach him then." Andrew argued, his eyes following Jean as the older boy got up and started pacing. "I remember all my lessons. I could teach him with no struggle." Jean snorted, looking up. "Shouldn't you be getting ready?"

"Kicked out remember?" Jean mumbled, looking back at Andrew. Andrew shrugged, taking another bite from his muffin and Jean laughed. "I should. Aaron seems to be done in the shower, so if I go straight up Kev probably won't care." Andrew nodded, taking another bite quickly. "I need to, don't I?" Andrew nodded again. "I'll see you after. Good luck Andrew." Jean turned to walk back.

"Jean." Andrew said and he stopped, turning. "If I get picked, don't be nervous to say goodbye."

Jean knew that was Andrew asking him to come. But Andrew didn't like asking. Andrew didn't want to ask, say the word please. It wasn't how Andrew worked, and Jean knew that. He never questioned why, but he knew that. He never pressed any questions when it came to Andrew, because Andrew never did the same to him. He never questioned the scars on his cheek or the roughness of his hands or the burn marks that Jean turned up with.

"I will." Jean said, smiling gently. "I hope you enjoyed the muffin! If I do need to visit you, I'll bring one along. A parting gift." He laughed before walking inside.

Andrew watched the door for a few seconds after it closed before moving his glance to the gap in the curtains. Their argument went on for a few more minutes until Aaron looked out the window. Andrew raised an eyebrow and Aaron sighed, turning back to Kevin and saying something before leaving.

"Trouble in paradise?" Andrew muttered when Aaron reached his side.

"Shut up." Aaron muttered, already towards the village entrance.

He was dressed in a tight red shirt, it looked like Kevin's with the way it was too tight around his waist but loose around the arms, and a pair of trousers which were too torn to belong to a victor, and the style choice only pointed to Nicky. Too tight around the thighs with baggy bottoms. Just how Erik liked it.

"He just wanted to wish me good luck and I wanted to thank him, or tell him to thank his dad, for letting me use their shower."

"Wish you good luck with a massive smooch." Andrew said, walking after him.

"As if you and Jean weren't doing the same." Aaron muttered, scowling at him.

"Jean was actually just telling me about his crush. I got a name and everything. It was glorious." Andrew said. As Aaron went to ask, Andrew continued, "But I will not be saying anything about the mystery person. It was in our game, and I never tell secrets from our game."

"You're stupid shitty 'Truth for a truth' game?" Aaron asked and Andrew nodded. "I don't know why you two play that. It's not even a game, its talking. Like normal people do. You and Jean are weird."

"I think Jean is smarter than you when it comes to most things." Andrew mumbled, pushing the gate at the end of the pathway open. Nicky looked up through the window, smiling when he saw the twins. "If him being weird is the consequence of that, I don't think he minds.

"Fucking weirdo." Aaron muttered, pushing past. Nicky immediately fussed over him, asking where the shirt he left out was. Erik moved closer to Andrew, holding Jesse in his arms.

"I have missed you." Erik said.

"Jesse." Andrew called and the young boy looked over. "Want to hug?" Jesse nodded excitedly. Erik squatted down, letting Jesse run over. But just before he reached Andrew, he slowed down and then calmly wrapped his arms around Andrew's waist. "Oh Andrew, you look amazing." Nicky whispered. "I wish Betsy could see you before the ceremony, but she's already gone to get the other kids ready." He stood up, smiling. "You both look amazing. And we are going to get through this, and we are going to come home and be calm and happy."

His smile faltered for a second, but he plastered it back on before Aaron could notice. Erik and Andrew did, but both decided to stay quiet, knowing he was trying his hardest.

"Andrew, are you sure you don't want to move to a factory job with me and Aaron? You could watch the games."

"I'm fine being a clearer." Andrew mumbled. "I get good pay and I only have to talk to Jean. I see no flaws."

"But you can't watch the games." Nicky said.

"Erik doesn't like to watch the games. Neither do I." Andrew said, looking down at Jesse, who had buried his face in Andrew's side. "I am happy getting the updates from you over dinner."

Nicky went to say something, but Erik stepped forward and whispered into his ear. Nicky sighed, looking at him. Erik pecked his lips softly.

"We should get going, though," Andrew said, pushing Jesse back lightly and holding his hand out. Jesse smiled widely, taking his hand and holding tightly, as if his life depended on it.

The walk to the town center was mostly fully of Nicky's nervous rambling, with Erik and Aaron occasionally responding. But Andrew ignored them and chose to focus on the small tune Jesse was humming, squeezing his hand along to the beat.

When they reached the town center, Erik picked Jesse back up. Jesse waved to Andrew sadly before his dad carried him off, holding Nicky's hand. They passed the peacekeepers and stood in the crowd beside Jean and Kevin. Andrew took off down the silent path, leading them to the identification tables.

He could see over the peacekeepers' shoulders, David, Matt and Renee lined up along the back of the stage, with their escort, Kathy Ferdinand, standing in front of them. She was talking animatedly to them, with her big blonde hair and eyes practically painted with pink. The skin-tight pink leather dress clung to her to an uncomfortably revealing extent where Andrew had to look away.

"Next." The peacekeeper said and Andrew looked up, seeing Aaron's whole-body flinch. "Go through. Next."

Andrew stepped forward, holding his hand forward. The peacekeeper grabbed his wrist roughly, tugging it forward and pricking the end of his finger. They then pressed it to the paper, scanned it and let him through.

Andrew rushed through, pushing through all the crowds to find his brother. Aaron was waiting nervously, wringing his wrists. Andrew pushed through the crowd until he ended up besides his brother, waiting silently.

"What if we get picked?" Aaron whispered, looking at his brother. Andrew shrugged, keeping his eyes focused on the stage. "Andrew I'm serious." he said before his voice was drowned out by Kathy tapping the microphone.

"Welcome, welcome." she said, smiling at everyone.

The neon yellow contacts she wore made everyone unsettled, but she continued, her cat-like eyes scanning the crowd.

"Welcome to the fifty seventh Hunger Games. May the odds be ever in your favor." She smirked, looking across to the group of people who weren't being reaped, taunting them. "Now, the time has come for us to select one courageous young man and women for the honor of representing district seven in this year's Hunger Games." She stopped for a second, smiling. "As usual, ladies first."

She shuffled across the stage in her overly tight dress and waved her hand over the bowl. A hand skimmed Andrew's wrist and he looked down, seeing Aaron's beside his, the knuckles brushing the black cloth. Andrew slid his hand into his brothers as Kathy waddled back to the microphone.

"Marissa Goodman." Kathy read out, looking across the crowd. People were stepped aside two sections before the twins.

Sixteen years old, Andrew told himself. The girl stepped forward, dressed in a light green dress which skimmed her knees and her hair tied into a tight ponytail.

"Come on up dear, don't be afraid." Four peacekeepers surrounded her, leading her up to the stage. Marissa slowly walked up, and Kathy enthusiastically welcomed her. "And now the boys."

Aaron's grip tightened on his hand as she reached the glass bowl. Kathy smiled, waving her hand around the top before diving in and pulling out one white slip. She slowly shuffled back to the microphone and leant close, undoing the slip slowly. She smirked before reading, "Aaron Michael Minyard."

"I volunteer as tribute." Andrew looked down before he even had acknowledged the words come out of his mouth. He looked back up, seeing everyone staring at him. Aaron was looking at him with tearful eyes.

"Not Andrew." he whispered, but Andrew pushed past. "No. Andrew stop!" he shouted, following him through. Andrew took his place in between the peacekeepers but was dragged back violently. "I won't let you do this." Aaron shouted.

"I volunteer." Andrew repeated, making direct eye contact with Aaron. Aaron shook his head, his mouth opening and closing until the first tear rolled down his cheek and his grip on Andrew's arm loosened.

Aaron was pulled back quickly, and Andrew recognized the hand around his twin's shoulders immediately. Jean pulled Aaron back, avoiding Andrew's eye. Andrew turned around and followed the peacekeepers down the aisle. Renee was staring at him, shocked, from the back of the stage. Matt's eyes were filled with tears, while Wymack's jaw was clenched.

Andrew didn't remember as far back as to when he was four, but he knew Wymack's story.

Wymack had trained as hard as he could after losing a close friend to the games when he was twelve. When David turned eighteen, he volunteered himself before the name was even called out. His reasoning was to save one more helpless kid from being killed in his district. This caused him to become a fan favorite in the Capitol, and a respected citizen in the district. In every shop, I have had a discount. Everyone smiled at him in the streets. Everyone welcomed him into their homes and invited him round for dinner.

Every year, when the victors returned, all three of the victors visited the houses of the fallen tributes to mourn with them for one night. They supplied the family with the food for the night and left them all the leftovers. It was a tradition started by Wymack, but when Renee won the forty-fourth Hunger Games, she joined in. And when Matt won the fifty-first Hunger Games, he became the final part of the trio.

Andrew was snapped out of his thoughts when he reached the bottom of the stairs, looking up at the stage. He made eye contact with Renee, who smiled gently at him. He sighed before walking up.

"A volunteer!" Kathy cried, holding her hand out to showcase Andrew's arrival. "Now, what's your name young man?"

"Andrew Joseph Minyard." Andrew said, looking forward.

Jean was finally looking at him, his face contorted with fear. Nicky was beside him, crying into Erik's shoulder. Erik was staring at Andrew in fear while Jesse sobbed, bundled in Betsy's arms. Aaron was crying, while being held back by Kevin.

"Oh, and was that your brother I picked?" Kathy asked, smiling widely.

"Yes, my twin brother." Andrew answered, trying to keep his voice monotone.

"How lovely." Kathy said before turning to the crowd again. "Here we are. Our tributes from district seven!" She started clapping, but everyone stayed silent.

Jean brought three fingers up to his lips before raising them above his head. Slowly, everyone around him began to do the same, the gesture spreading among the crowd. A single tear rolled down Jean's scarred cheek and Andrew took a deep breath before bringing three fingers to his own lips then raising them above his head.

"Happy Hunger Games!" Kathy cried, "And may the odds be ever in your favor."

They turned away, Kathy leading them both to the door at the back. Andrew flinched away from her touch, overtaking Marissa and pushing himself into the corridor.

"Andrew." Renee said, walking up to him.

"Not." Andrew spat out through gritted teeth.

He would not let himself cry; he would not let himself cry.

"We can talk on the train. I want to say goodbye to them."

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kinkandkreep · 4 years ago

Text

AOT Character's Modern Personalities

Continued from this ask

Character Navigation: Here

Levi Ackerman: MBTI- INTJ

☽ Ah, Levi, everybody’s fave

☽ I’ma jump straight into this one ‘cause while I believe that Modern Levi and manga/anime Levi retain many similar traits, there are some little nuances that differ between them

☽ Alright, so

☽ As I said, or rather, implied, Modern!Levi and manga/anime Levi have, essentially, the same personality

☽ Stoic, straight-faced, not too quick to open up and reluctant to share many details about himself

☽ But, again, there are some little differences that make themselves known

☽ Like for instance, I believe Modern!Levi is a dreamer

☽ He daydreams often and likes to get lost in his thoughts- thoughts of things as they are and things as they could be

☽ He’s still not too big on dwelling on the past though, but he’s really goal oriented

☽ He, like Eren, likes to plan out his days, though he’s a little more stringent with his time than the younger man

☽ I realize as I type this out that a lot of what I’m puttin’ down is the same as what you pick up in the manga/anime

☽ But that’s just the thing- Levi’s personality doesn’t drastically change between then and the modern day

☽ At least in my mind ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

☽ Aside from that, Modern!Levi is a lot friendlier and just generally more pleasant to be around than manga/anime Levi

☽ Bear in mind- friendly doesn’t necessarily mean open, remember what I said earlier about him still being a pretty private person

☽ He has more of wit about him and less of a snark, and his sarcasm still knows no bounds

☽ His humor is a little more...moist than it is in the manga/anime, and he’s not so macabre about things

☽ Now, I think the girlies are gonna like this next one 😁

☽ Modern!Levi smiles a lot more in comparison to manga/anime Levi

☽ And he smiles a lot more around people, I think that’s the thing

☽ He’s the thoughtful type, who, when surrounded by the things he enjoys, is able to find and appreciate the little pleasures in life and secretly wishes to share that joy

☽ Dissimilar from manga/anime Levi, Modern!Levi likes to take responsibility a majority of the time; this can be attributed to the fact that he often feels that a job can only be done properly if done by him

☽ This doesn’t mean that Levi is a control freak however; he is still very laid back and calm most of the time, and while he is still critical of people, he’s more willing to place his temporary trust in them

☽ Now, here’s some fun facts about my Modern day Levi! |(• ◡•)|

☽ First up, my au Levi can speak both Spanish and French in addition to Japanese and English

☽ Next up, I headcanon that Modern!Levi lives in Japan and is actually a professor of military strategy (yes, I sorta made that up) at Tohoku University in Sendai

☽ When he retires he plans on opening a cafe that focuses on serving exotic teas and pastries from around the globe

☽ His father, who he knew in this timeline, has since passed, but his mother is still alive and lives about an hour away in Shiogama

☽ Levi hates that she lives so far from him and often pesters her about living with him in her old age, but she insists that she’s fine and wouldn’t want to be a bother, even though Levi has repeatedly told her that she wouldn’t be

☽ Levi’s still an only child in my au, but he does wish, every now and then, that he had a sibling

☽I could go into depth about why that is, but I think I’ll save that for later

☽ Anyway

☽ If it wasn’t already made clear by his concern for his mother, Levi takes family and family matters very seriously and he considers his friends to be his family as well

☽ He’s also still very particular about cleanliness, though it’s not as apparent as it is in the manga/anime

𝕆𝕧𝕖𝕣𝕒𝕝𝕝:

☽ Put simply, Modern!Levi is a pretty straightforward man who likes things to be the way he likes for them to be and, while fairly similar to his manga/anime counterpart, is actually pretty nice to be around 🙃

#aot #attack on titan #snk #shingeki no kyojin #levi #levi ackerman #levi ackerman headcanons #aot fluff #levi ackerman fluff

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bitacrytic · 3 years ago

Text

I was just reading "Painter of the Night" and *sigh* I can't anymore. As of recent, I haven't been able to watch or read anything without comparing and contrasting it with TDJ so I couldn't help but notice how many bl tropes TDJ applied to it's handling of the Gahan situationship.

I was a little triggered by that manga so I'm going to rant a little because if I don't rant, I don't know what else I can do. You don't have to read it so, I'll put it under the line.

(As much as I loath the terms, uke & seme, I'm going to be using them because I'm speaking of bls in general)

Said tropes...

Living together

A stronger seme

A rich seme and an uke if lesser means

Age gap (older seme, younger uke)

Unhealthy obsession

Seme who has a reputation

Stockholm syndrome

People commenting on how much uke's presense has "changed" seme

Uke saying "no" REPEATEDLY!!!

Diabolical love interest of seme

Uke seeing the "good" in seme that no one else can see

Nonconsensual touching

Violence (why does there always have to be so much violence)

Family secrets or amnesia (either way, some hidden fact about the past that the uke has to discover)

An experienced seme lover and an inexperienced uke. (TDJ swapped out sex for espionage. And you cannot convince me otherwise. Because there is no reason why the show repeatedly kept Gaon as an amateur while making him the butt of every one of Yohan's plans. Till the very end. He kept trying to make his own plans, but they always failed in comparison to Yohan's plans. The exact same way sex is in exotic bls. The seme is the forceful one, the one who knows how to control his partner during sex. And no matter how much the uke tries to turn the power dynamics around, the seme remains in control, moving the uke this way and that way until he is satisfied. Like, you can't tell me TDJ didn't swap out sex for diabolical planning. I will not believe you)

I have said this before, but I will say it again. I am very glad TDJ was not a bl. My god. Because Yohan did everything a villain could do. He murdered people, left others to die, manipulated people, used his wealth in as many atrocious ways as the very people he claimed to want to bring down. Kang Yohan's hands are dirty.

But at least, we weren't subjected to rape. It's the barest of minimums, but TVN, thank you. Because everytime I finish a bl, it's hard to go back because of it and it's hard to even get through it and I'm a fool for pushing myself to do it because, everytime, EVERY SINGLE TIME, I tell myself, "this one will be different. This time the uke will get the upper hand", but no. In the end, it's the seme who makes the decision to change. He wakes up one morning and learns the truth of a misunderstanding and suddenly "repents".

Which still means that anytime in the future, if he gets in his head again, he can always relapse to his sexually violent ways.

Which is a big issue I have with TDJ. Gaon never got the upper hand. I'm still so pissed that Yohan didn't give Gaon the choice to go to Switzerland. He left. And then came back.

We want to believe that Yohan changed for Gaon, but he didn't. I'm sorry, guys, but I don't think he did. Yes, he let Gaon leave the house when Gaon was scared about Minister Cha, but that was one time. Gaon came back into the house and Yohan didn't let him leave again. In fact, the next time Gaon left the house, Yohan was the one to kick him out. Yohan made the choice.

After all that development in their relationship, the first time Gaon made a decision without Yohan, Yohan choked him again. AGAIN! Think about that, guys. He choked him again. Which just proves what I've been saying. Yohan calms down when he wants to. He let's Gaon do what he wants, only when he's in the mood. But if he means to, he will use violence.

Yeah, they were smiling at each other at the end of the show, but who's to say Yohan won't choke Gaon again in the future?

Yohan and Sunah's relationship, for example. That's a relationship between equals. (Sorry Gahan shippers) but Sunah gives more than she gets from Yohan. When Yohan decides to behave he's doing so because he has to. Not just because he wants to. Sunah called him and he came out. Not because he wanted to. Because he had to. She was his ally and he didn't want to test her. He was in a bad mood and really didn't want to go but he did.

With Gaon, it's the opposite. Yohan bends to Gaon's whim because he wants to. Which sounds romantic. But when you consider the fact that Gaon doesn't have the same allowance, it becomes an imbalance that doesn't favor Gaon.

And as a character who has been manipulated and used by every single character he cared about (except Soohyun), what really makes Yohan different except for the fact that the show was about Yohan?

I've seen a couple of bls with some equality and/or a switch in power dynamics. But they're just so few and sifting through to find them is so draining at times.

Like, TDJ, if there's a season 2, you had better give us a more worldly and savvy Gaon or a will riot.

#devil judge #kdramas circa 2000s were also very guilty of these tropes #these days they are trying in their representation of women so...#better i guess?

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robininthelabyrinth · 5 years ago

Note

Imagine what would have happened if NHS realized the JGY was poisoning his brother long before NMJ died? What do you think he would do?

It was meant to be a surprise.

Nie Huaisang would be the last person to deny that he was a lazy, useless good-for-nothing, but he prided himself on having a good heart, and a generous one; even his brother couldn’t deny that Nie Huaisang’s ability to give gifts tailored to the recipient’s wishes were second to none. There was a reason he’d managed the Nie sect’s social affairs ever since the age of eight.

And, of course, the person he put the most effort into finding just the right gift for was his da-ge – and that was also the person he found the hardest to please.

Sure, Nie Mingjue would probably be overjoyed by the promise (and fulfilment) of a solid month of effort in saber practice, but that would only raise Nie Mingjue’s expectations while ruining Nie Huaisang’s life for a month, and anyway Nie Huaisang had already given his brother that the year he was thirteen and he hated repeating gifts. Since that option was off the table, if Nie Huaisang wanted to give his brother something that would make him happy, he had to think hard as to what that might be.

Especially since that present a few years ago, which had gone so terribly wrong.

(He’d thought his brother would be happy that he’d killed a Wen lieutenant for him, using his saber the way he so rarely did – and it hadn’t been easy, that’s for sure – but Nie Mingjue’s hands had actually shaken when he’d found out that Nie Huaisang had left the security of the Unclean Realm and Nie Huaisang didn’t want to see that gutted expression on his brother’s face ever again. Luckily, the war ended soon after, and it wasn’t an issue any more – except for the worried look on Nie Mingjue’s face every time his birthday came around.)

He’d played it low-key for a few years – finding exotic animals for a hunt, a new whetstone for Baxia, practical things like that – but this year was the end of a decade, and he was determined to do better.

The Song of Clarity seemed like the perfect solution.

After all, if Nie Huaisang learned to play it, his da-ge could hear the calming music every day, and he wouldn’t feel guilty about interrupting their lives for his needs; Lan Xichen was of course busy with his duties as Sect Leader, and Jin Guangyao, though always willing to visit, had a weak golden core that made the distant travel unpleasant.

Naturally, he couldn’t just ask to learn it. He liked his da-ge’s sworn brothers very much, had adopted them immediately as his own, but Nie Huaisang knew perfectly well that anything he told to them would swiftly reach his brother’s ears – he didn’t mind; after all, they were Nie Mingjue’s sworn brothers, not his. But it did make it tricky when he wanted to plan a surprise.

Luckily, the Unclean Realm was full of secrets, and the chamber near his brother’s receiving room – used by one of their more unscrupulous ancestors to spy on suspicious guests – was the perfect one to solve his problem. Nie Huaisang flattered himself to think he was pretty good at music; if he sat in the stone chamber that Nie Mingjue had forcefully erased from his mind years before, and which even Jin Guangyao with all his tricks had never known of, to listen to the tune being played over and over again, he should be able to figure out how the sounds came together.

He’d even get to benefit from the calming and mind-sharpening effects of the music itself, which would surely help him learn the tune even faster.

It was a great plan.

So great, in fact, that he found himself coughing up blood after only a few weeks.

Nie Huaisang didn’t suspect the music at the beginning. Since he didn’t share his brother’s dislike of submitting himself to medical experts, he went to their family doctor at once.

The man had the strangest expression on his face.

“Have you been practicing your saber too hard?” he asked, and if that wasn’t a suspicious question, Nie Huaisang didn’t know what was. It wasn’t as though he didn’t know anything about the saber spirits – his brother’s best attempts to keep him blissfully ignorant aside, it was pretty hard to learn their family’s history without knowing a little about how their sect became so powerful, and how their sect leaders tended to die – but it wasn’t usually very relevant to his life. He didn’t refuse to practice saber because he was afraid of the qi deviation that would probably kill him no matter how much or how little saber he practiced; he refused because he was lazy, and the family philosophy of ‘suppress evil wherever it appears’ seemed like an awful lot of work to put on his shoulders in exchange for, ugh, what, more exercise? No thanks.

“I have not,” he said.

“Nie-gongzi, if this is for your brother’s birthday –”

“It isn’t!” he protested at once, but that got him thinking: wasn’t he listening to the Song of Clarity every week, same as his brother? Even if Nie Huaisang did get it into his head to overdo things with his saber – not that that was likely to be possible at his age and cultivation level, his family’s lives were short only in comparison to other cultivators and even his brother, the prodigy, hadn’t had any signs of qi deviation so young – it shouldn’t have been able to affect him, not when his mind was being cleansed.

Not unless the Song of Clarity didn’t do what it was supposed to.

Nie Huaisang was alarmed by the thought. Not wanting to spoil a birthday surprise for his brother was one thing, but something that could harm his brother, however inadvertently? That was an emergency.

Obviously, the only thing to be done was to ask someone wiser for help.

After all, Nie Huaisang’s only a good-for-nothing; how could he deal with something of this magnitude? He made an excuse about needing to purchase something and went to Gusu at once.

After all, it had been Lan Xichen who suggested applying the song – if there was some fundamental clash between Lan and Gusu techniques, such that a technique meant to help in fact hurt, he would be the one to ask. Jin Guangyao might play it more often, but when in doubt, it was always better to go to the master.

“A clash?” Lan Xichen asked, frowning. “What do you mean?”

“I’ve been listening to san-ge play it, every time he comes over,” Nie Huaisang explained. “I want to learn the chords.”

Lan Xichen smiled. “You could have asked –”

“It was supposed to be a surprise, and you would have told him. No, don’t shake your head, you would have; you’d have put down the flag and drums the second he looked the slightest bit worried about it. You’re hopeless, er-ge, just admit it. Anyway, that isn’t the point – I’ve been teaching myself the chords by listening to it –”

“You always had a talent for music,” Lan Xichen said, and Nie Huaisang beamed. “It must have come from your mother.”

Nie Huaisang giggled into his sleeve. “It’s not da-ge’s fault he’s halfway tone-deaf. Do you remember back when your uncle tried to teach him an instrument? Da-ge’s playing nearly made him start crying, and all the while da-ge kept insisting that what he was doing and what you were doing sounded exactly the same to him.”

Lan Xichen smiled outright at the memory.

“Anyway, I started coughing up blood the other day –”

“What?!” Lan Xichen exclaimed, smile disappearing from his face at once. “Huaisang! You should have started there!”

“I was getting to it. Don’t worry, I visited the family doctor and he said some extra time meditating would be enough to put me to rights –”

“You haven’t done it yet, have you.”

Ouch, Lan Xichen hadn’t even bothered to make it a question; was Nie Huaisang so predictable?

Probably yes.

“But I shouldn’t have been able to have that problem,” Nie Huaisang continued stubbornly. “Not if I’m listening to the Song of Clarity all the time the way da-ge is – not unless the song isn’t working the way it’s supposed to. You know me, er-ge; I’m not as prone towards qi deviations as my brother is! If the song was working, I shouldn’t have had one in a hundred years.”

Lan Xichen’s usual smile had been replaced by a frown. “You’re right. That is strange. You think there’s some clash between Nie cultivation and our traditions, such that the song is ineffective? It seemed as though it was working at the beginning…”

“What else could it be?” Nie Huaisang asked practically. “Plenty of things are effective in small doses and poisonous in large, er-ge; and you said yourself just the other month that it seemed as though da-ge’s temperament was getting worse rather than better.”

Lan Xichen was pale. “You’re right. If it’s hurting him, we have to put a stop to it at once and start over from the beginning.”

“It’s still just a theory,” Nie Huaisang said. “But getting proof shouldn’t be hard – after all, I may not be much of a cultivator, but I’m still a Nie. Here, why don’t you sit down? I’ll play what I’ve learned for you while you examine what it’s doing to my qi; that way we’ll be able to see what sort of effect it’s having.”

#mdzs #nie huaisang #lan xichen #my fic #my fics #Anonymous #listen #nie huaisang is a professional useless person #he only leveled up because he had to #he is going to solve this mystery WHILE being useless #mostly by accident #and because sometimes being a fussy person is really helpful #when it comes to solving mysteries

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starr-fall-knight-rise · 4 years ago

Text

Emp-Ire “The King.”

“I am starting to think that the oracle was screwing with us.”

“Silence!” One of the men barked, clapping Ramirez across the back of the head with an open palm. Ramirez jerked forward with a grunt of pain, and seeing that, Adam was having the sudden, sneaking suspicion that…. Everything wasn’t what it seemed to be.

At first, the whole thing had screamed of elaborate tourism. Let the tourists show up and think they are going on some cool quest, and then make them overpay to meet with some lady who was just super high, but the way these men were acting…

Adam was beginning to agree with Ramirez.

If their adventure as Sheriff’s deputies had been real then wasn’t there all the likelihood that this was real as well? Just because you show up to someplace exotic doesn't mean it was designed like that to amuse you. He wouldn’t take a hop and a skip over to Japan and just assume that the different customs there were an elaborate ploy to get money off of tourists….

Well maybe on Earth that sort of thing could totally happen, but looking at these men…. Their physiques, their clothing,their weapons, and the very real, point of their spears, he was becoming aware that maybe they had stumbled on something a lot more serious than they had first thought.

Shit.

He seemed to have a habit of doing things like that.

He glanced around at the small contingent of men who walked with them. As he had noticed before each and every one of them was absolutely shredded, not necessarily in the bodybuilder kind of way, but in a way that made it clear these guys never skipped leg day, arm, day or cardio.

Adam and Ramirez were no slouches; by comparison, both of them hitting the gym at least five times a week for an hour at least, but in comparison?

And of course they didn’t hide it either.

Each of the men carried a massive circular shield and spears taller than they were. They had on sandals with greaves and simple leather wraps, most of them were bare chested, though their commanding officer wore a breastplate, all of them wore helmets.

“Laconia!”

His sudden exclamation startled the man as well as Ramirez,

“Shit, I just realized why that sounded familiar.”

One of the men turned to look at his commanding officer, “I do not think they are Athenians, sir.” He glanced back at Adam, “Too dumb.”

The other men laughed at his expense. Adam frowned, “Sorry my knowledge of ancient greek geographical locations isn’t up to snuff.”

He was silenced with another slap to the head, and with his ears ringing and one eye fuzzy, he finally accepted that this was, in fact, not a joke. Somehow, for some reason that dumbass oracle had sent them out to get potentially sacrificed by a group of Neospartans, and he doubted they were going to be able to sue for damages.

It took almost the whole day to make it to “Sparta” itself, though he became aware of their approaching closeness when small dwellings began appearing on the edge of fields. It was only when he figured out that Spartans needed to eat too that he realized not ALL of them were going to be big buff badasses. Of course, that was until he saw the farmer pulling the plow, who was in fact Hercules’s cousin on his father Zeus’s side.

Okay so maybe things were a bit different.

He was under the impression back during the age of real Sparta, a lot of spartan citizens were just normal people and it was only a select few who were turned into warriors. Women, while they had some rights than in other places, were still expected to stay home and take care of things while the men were off at war. She had to be strong, but that was only because she was expected to raise spartan sons, or something like that. He couldn’t remember exactly how that sort of thing worked, he wasn’t a historian. For all he knew Spartan women were just as shredded as the men.

A truth that seemed apparent for thee spartans because, as they made it to the next little farming house, a woman turned to look at them and damn it was like the Amazons met the spartans. She wasn’t particularly tall by anyone’s standards, but she looked like did mixed martial arts for a living.

He had no doubt she could probably kick his ass.

Ramirez had gone rather silent as he looked around nodding to himself every so often as they were dragged through the outlying villages and farms, and eventually up a set of stone steps leading into a city which was surrounded by lush medeteranian hills and grasslands on either side.

The city itself was no slouch either. It wasn’t as artistically expressive as New Athens had been, ut there was no shortage of statues, and interesting architecture. Walking down the street, everyone they met was shredded or well on their way to becoming so. The men, the women, everyone but the children.

He noticed a few differences from ancient histories, including but not limited to the fact that the women were just as armored as the men, the many races and ethnicities, and the strange assortment of modern day dogs that roamed the place, which he thought was a strange addition.

A line of marching soldiers passed by wearing their red and gold, and as they went Ramirez turned his head to follow them, “Welp, I am pretty sure I had a dream like this once.”

“Did you dream include us dying horribly?”

“Does being crushed between someone's thighs count?”

Adam sighed and rolled his eyes to the heavens, “how can you be thinking like that at a time like this?”

“How can you not, I am scared and way turned on and it is the most confusing feeling I have ever had in my life…. Aren't you just a little?”

Adam frowned and was surprised to find that, “No, he didn’t think so. He was JEALOUS of plenty of these men, but none of the men or women caught his eye in that way, at least he didn't think so.”

Ramirez stared at him and shook his head sadly.

“What?”

“Still thinking about your breakup huh?”

“No I’m not.”

“Quiet.” One of the men hissed raising a hand to backhand one of them, though he stopped as a voice called out from before them.

“Captain NIcos, you have returned from your patrol.”

It was a woman’s voice this time, and as they looked up an armored figure stepped down from the steps to the columned temple. She wore a bright golden breastplate, knee length red skirt and golden greaves and bracers. An attendant at her shoulder carried her Helm, though she kept hold of her spear and circular shield. She was at least six feet tall and had a body like the she hulk though her face was exceptionally beautiful as well, with large brown eyes and full lips.

The man raised his spear to her, “Queen Xanthia.”

The man around them raised their spears as well.

She stepped forward over the stone, “What have you found here.” She used the tip of her spear to reach under Ramirez’s chin and tilt his head back, “Athenians?’

“They say they are ‘from Athens, but not “Athenian.” Captain Nicos said shoving Adam forward so he tripped and fell to his knees on the hard stone.

She grunted and turned her attention to him, tilting his head back to look at her, “Is this true, not-an-Athenian.”

He crinched away from the blade of her spear, “I’m Mericandian actually, Terran, Earthling.”

There were a couple grunts of surprise from around the group.

“Tourists.” Ramirez piped in.

Xanthia frowned, raising her chin, “And how did you end up on Laconia. We don’t encourage tourists here.”

“Would you believe it if I said that asshole of an oracle sent us here.” He raised his hands, “We meant no disrespect of course, we just came here to see the sights and then leave.”

Ramirez nodded.

There was another muttering from the crowd. She had an eyebrow raised, “The oracle you say?”

The two of them nodded again, not sure where this was going.

She turned her head to Captain Nicos, “Keep a close eye on them, I will speak with the king”

She turned on her heels and walked off, passing through the double doors with a swish of her red cloak, leaving the two of them still kneeling on the rough stone.

They turned to look at each other in nervous confusion, not entirely sure where this was going. Overhead the sky had dimmed to a dull blue and torches were being lit all up the city streets. The young man who was doing the lighting had the look of a classic greek hero with tight curly hair and a body borrowed from a demigod.

The two of them didn’t say anything until the doors opened and the queen walked back out, “The king wishes to see the intruders.”

Two guards held the doors opened as they were forced to their feet and up the steps. The interior of the room was bare and blunt, no more than stone pillars and a single uncomfortable throne carved out of sharp marble blocks, on which sat the manliest man he had likely ever seen. Xanthia walked over and sat in the identical throne next to him, and together it seemed as if they were being pulled before the throne of the very gods themselves.

This man was godlike, but not the kind of overly muscled where he can't even touch his own head. This was probably what peak human performance looked like with a neatly shaved beard and thick dark hair. Adam glanced over at Ramirez again, to see the other man was nodding in great approval of this development. He turned his head back to the man who stood very slowly, his armor clinking. He wore a short sword on one hip and carried a spear in one hand, and when he moved, he moved with the grace of someone who knew exactly what he was doing, and where his body was at all times.

He walked down the steps and looked the two of them over with steely golden eyes, like those of a wolf.

His gaze fell on Adam for a long hard moment, “I see we have been graced by the presence of a foreign general.” He said turning back and stepping up the stone steps.

There was a murmuring in the room around them.

Adam blinked in surprise, “You know who I am.”

The Spartan king stood before his seat, but did not sit down, “Well of course.”

He held up his arm so Adam could see the scrolling holographic image across his wrist, “Just because I live like a spartan doesn’t mean I subjugate my life to not knowing what goes on in the universe. In fact as King it is my duty to know what important developments are being made in this galaxy.”

He turned his head to look at Adam ,”I am loyal to this galaxy and the ideals upon which humanity has befriended aliens.” He walked across the stone, “And you Admiral Vir are an important linchpin in that model.”

He turned to wave a hand at Ramirez, “And of course I know a Marine when I see one.”

Another muttering from around the room.

So, this is sort of not what he expected. The Spartan king was well versed in intergalactic politics, and was no slouch intellectually either.

“So, you’ll let us go then.”

The man did not smile, but the way his eyes twinkled, almost menacingly did not give Adam much hope.

“Oh I never said that.” He turned and paced back in the other direction, “You see, Admiral, I have become aware of an unfortunate pattern in humanity’s political history, and this includes the fall of empires due to poor or weak leaders.” he turned on the spot, “I had given up hope in being able to influence the intergalactic stage, but finding you here has…. Given me an idea.”

Oh no.

“I want to see just what kind of men are being tasked with keeping this galaxy together. I want to know if you can do what needs to be done, when it needs to be done. I want to make sure that my people are in good hands, when their good is out of mine.”

“What are you talking about.”

“I want to make sure you are a brave leader, and that you can fight when is necessary.”

He made a motion with his hands and Ramirez was dragged off to the side.

A group of Spartans stepped up and grabbed Adam around the arms hauling him to his feet.

“Bring him to the training field.” The king said, and the group of men dragged him forward and out the doors.

Adam tried to protest but he was silenced as he was dragged from the doors, down the walkway and into a large lit arena with a sandy dirt floor. A large group of men were practicing here with their spears and shields, but cleared off as soon as an order was barked.

“What are you doing!” Adam demanded

“Consider this your greek trial, Admiral.” The king said taking his own spear and tossing it to Adam, who caught it in one hand, “Fight, and let’s see what you can do.” “But I-”

He was handed a shield, and then the group began to pull back.

The king stepped up onto the arena wall and paced down it’s length, “Lets see if you can beat one of my men first, and we will go from there.”

He motioned a hand and ordered one of the younger men forward. He couldn’t have been that old and was not nearly as well put together as the others, but he held his spear and shield with some confidence.

Ok…. this was going to get interesting.

He knew there was nothing he could do to stop them, so Adam dropped into a crouch.

The shield felt awkward and heavy on his arm, but the spear was a familiar weight. They circled for a short time before the boy came charging at him. He could see what the king was doing. This boy was young and had probably trained repeatedly in drills but had never sued weapons in practice..

He was meant to be easy to beat.

Adam stepped to the side and caught the boy’s foot sending him staggering away. Adam used the shield to knock him further off balance and sent him plowing into the dirt.

No one made a sound.

It wasn’t that impressive. That was SUPPOSED to be easy.

“So at least you have SOME training.” The king called. Overhead a shooting star crossed over the heavens. A crowd trickled onto the stands of the arena.

He motioned someone else forward. She too was young, but the set of her face and a scar down her right cheek showed that she had at least SEEN combat at some point. The way she eyed Adam told him that she knew what she was doing.

Her problem?

She was likely to set i nher fighting abilities, not creative enough. He traded a couple of strikes with her, gaging her ability before making his move. He used his shield as a distraction to cover some of his movement so she couldn't see, and then sent a lightning fast jab. He struck a hit hard on the side of her helmet sending her plowing to the Arena floor.

Still no one made a sound.

The king nodded slowly and motioned someone else forward.

This man was an actual soldier, though likely no great shakes, but at least he knew what he was doing. Adam ended up in a sharp flurry of contact before the shield got in his way and he almost took a hard blow to the shoulder , even so he ended up with a delicate cut along the side of his cheek. It was only by way of quick thinking that he was able to duck under one of the swipes and kick the man hard in the sternum. He went flailing back into the dirt, and Adam couldn’t help but whisper to himself.

“And this is sparta bitch.”

The kind paced around him in a wide circle, “So, someone has trained you in the use of the spear.”

Adam growled, “I was trained to fight aliens with four arms, so you are going to have to try harder.”

The king smiled, “Confidence…. Always a good sign. But the shield, I think you have not been trained to use one of those.”

Adam paused nodded, and then threw the shield to the ground kicking it away.

He took the spear up in two hands, in a distinctly different style from the spartans, “Well, come on then.”

WIth the shield gone and his switch back to using a spear like he had been trained he defeated the next three challenges with relative impunity. It was only when the king stared adding extra fighters did Adam struggle.

They clashed hard, Adam ducking dodging and sometimes jumping over swings from his opponents. He dived into the dirt, rolled onto his back and caught two spears as they hurtled down at him. He kicked one in the side of the knee and he went down. Adam lunged for the hit, spun on the spot and caught the second spear as it came down for him again. He brought the but of his spear up and hit the woman in the face before spinning back in the other direction, dodging an oncoming jab and slammed his spear into the back of his opponent’s head sending them sprawling to the ground.

He was breathing heavily now but he could see and hear some of the men and women muttering in surprise.

The king nodded, “This is heartening, I must say. It seems as if our leaders CAN fight.”

Someone was motioned forward and he was handed a rag to wipe his face and a canteen of water. He drank greedy wiping his mouth and tossing the leather skin back to the young woman who had brought it to him.

“But I think I do see one deficiency.”

He took a waiting spear from one of his followers, waved off a shield and stepped into the ring.

Men and women all around the circle leaned forward in anticipation. Adam readied himself.

The king stepped forward.

Adam could already tell this wasn;t going to be easy.

He was already tired, the kind was fresh.

But still he was ready, the two men circled and then Adam lunged forward in the way the Drev had taught him, The king batted it away and they made an exchange. The man didn’t try to attack him, but seemed content on seeing what Adam could do. Their engagement must have lasted for thirty minutes as they clashed, the king slowly escalating over that time. The longer they went the more energized the other man became. Adam thought if he could just hold out until the other man grew tired as well, then maybe he would have an upper hand.

But it never happened.

Adam gasped for air.

Even after what must have been thirty minutes of continual engagement, the other man only seemed to be breathing steadier and more deeply. All together they had been fighting longer and harder than all of the other previous engagements put together, and still the man was not tired. Adam watched as the man specifically did not take openings that should have killed Adam.

He knew he was trying to make some sort of point.

Adam was breathing in ragged gasps now. He had never been so tired in all his life, he came in for a lunge he knew was sloppy, and his spear was kicked from his hand. A sandals foot hit him in the chest and he went down choking. The king stood over him nodding, “I am impressed by your skill” He turned and waved to the crowd, “You could match any man or woman here hand to hand in a fair fight, but you do have one deficiency.”

Adam gulped and panted.

The king crouched next to him, “No stamina.”

He stood again, “You train with my men tomorrow, and so does your marine. We will make Spartan’s out of you yet!”

Adam gasped coming to his knees, “Wait… but I-”

“You came here for vacation, and I am sorry to inform you that will not be so. You will not be leaving until I am satisfied our galaxy is in the Best hands.”

Adam stood crawling to his feet with great effort.

The king even smiled at him this time, which seemed strange to him somehow. He held out a hand and Adam took it, “A pleasure to fight with you Admiral, I am James king of the Spartans.”

Adam frowned, “James?’ Not Kyros or something?”

“I was born in the northern provinces of Mericanda, of course I don’t have a greek name.”

He clapped Adam on the shoulder and then walked off joined by his queen and their entourage as he shouted orders vanishing into the night.

Adam stared after him.

So, the king of Sparta was Canadian?

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theriu · 4 years ago

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A Meager Attempt At A Cool Rocks Post

So I have been inspired by @reddpenn's superb Cool Rock Posts. I too have a love for cool rocks, but it pales in comparison to the breadth and depth of both collection size and rock knowledge Redd has. Alas, my love of rocks remains uneducated and amateur, which is kind of ironic since I took three geology classes in college for my science credits. (Turns out I just like pretty things, actually remembering their formation and hardness and stuff doesn’t factor in.)

Nonetheless! I wish to share my small but still lovely collection of rocks and what little I know about them!

I have made this little display for our purposes. Obviously there are a few stand-ins so that my collection does not look too lonely, but if there is one thing I do excel at collecting, it is cool-looking Stuff to scatter around my house. Pay no mind to the Trex, he was a recent purchase from the home decoration store because he LOOKS like rock, which I think we can all agree is a good aesthetic for him. So far he has been a very good chap.

We shall start with the Small Boys:

These are the rocks I've had the longest, and in truth pay little mind to. As anyone who has frequented a gift shop with a rock section will recognize, these are the kind of assorted rocks one finds in a box, pays for by weight or bag limit, and takes home in a charming felt pouch. I don't even know what kind of rocks they are. Perhaps variations of the same kind? Someone with greater rock knowledge than I may know.

But you should know that, when it comes to rocks, I have a secret:

I really, really, REALLYREALLYREALLY like rocks you can SEE INTO

There's something so beautiful and magical, even mysterious, about translucent stone. Be it a glass ball full of swirled colors or a rough chunk of rock revealing deeply embedded inclusions, the depth and glow of a transparent or translucent rock fills me with delight. Perhaps it puts me in mind of bodies of water, and all the life swimming about in them. It makes you want to believe there is more to this simple stone, to imagine cool fantasy stories around their hidden abilities. This is why this seemingly boring Gray found a home - look how he lights up! Even Green has a bit of glow! (Blue does not, sadly, but he is blue. I like blue. :D)

My fondness for orange rocks is also going to become highly apparent as we continue:

Left: A GORGEOUS carnelian palm stone I found at a steampunk convention last year. I think I paid $30 for it. Now, I am not one to dole out large amounts of money for rocks willy-nilly - I have to be REALLY CERTAIN I love a rock enough to spend the asking price (i.e. How Likely Am I To Hold And Stare At This Rock For Long Periods?). But just look at this BEAUTY! It's like I'm holding a small chunk out of the rings of Saturn in my hand. It is also just about the right shape to pass for a dragon egg. And, I mean, look at it in the light:

Tell me that doesn’t look like a yolk. XD

I waffle between imagining this as a dragon egg, or plotting to incorporate it into my orange-and-yellow mandalorian cosplay as a chunk of stone from an old Jedi temple that my mando has hooked up to an arm device that uses it to detect force-users in the vicinity. Like I said, rocks are awesome for creating cool stories. :D

(Also: while I do not ascribe to the new age-y uses of palm stones, I will say that there is something decidedly pleasant about just holding a gorgeous, smooth, cool rock that fits perfectly in the palm of your hand!)

Back to the first picture, because Tumblr has an obnoxious 10 pic limit on posts...

Right: This is my newest rock, purchased just this week at the Boonshoft Museum of Discovery. Sometimes a particular rock just jumps out at you, and that is what happened with this very reasonably-priced $5 piece of orange calcite I brought home.

It looks like a huge chunk of candy. I almost want to eat it. But where it lacks the superior factor of rock candy that is deliciousness, this citrine has the estimable advantage of not turning sticky no matter how long I touch it.

And once again, when held up to the light...

Look at that gorgeous glow! She turns almost yellow in the light! I tell you, I looked at most of the orange citrine in the box, but this one that initially grabbed my attention just really stuck with me. Sometimes rock collecting is just the simple joy of finding that rare rock that really leaps out at you ahead of all the other pretty rocks which give you your fill for a few seconds before being left peacefully on their shelf.

(In other words, find the rocks that you want to stare at while spinning in your palm for unreasonable amounts of time like a crow adoring its shinies.)

Now, this little slice of a geode (I THINK??? Experts please advise) isn't very exotic. But for the paltry sum I paid for it at a rummage tent, and the GORGEOUS swirls this picture does not do justice, I think my reasons for claiming it are clear:

Someone more knowledgeable than me, please feel free to point out what qualities make this piece so lovely. It is amazing, like the frozen visage of a swirly space storm frosted with ice. I want to make it into jewelry or attach it to something, and I never wear jewelry. Why is the carrying around of pretty stones just to look at fondly in bored moments not more socially acceptable, I ask you?! (Not that this has stopped me, at times.)

Alas, I'm probably getting a bit long-winded, but we are nearing the end of the collection! And I'm sure someone out there is interested in the contents of this fun little box:

This was actually a prize I won for completing the scavenger hunt games in first place at a Steampunk convention several years ago! And I LOVE IT! A perfect little custom exhibit box, complete with labels! It looks so cool on my shelf. And all the pieces are authentic!

First, the ever-familiar purple amethyst. I must confess, I am a slight hipster in regards to liking things a bit more if they are less well-known, and perhaps that is why I don't have much opinion about amethyst. It is undeniably lovely in color and translucency, but it's just EVERYWHERE - I feel sometimes like it is the unofficial mascot of Cool Rocks In Gift Shops. So this rock isn't high on my favorites list, but it still feels right to have a piece.

The trilobite is my real favorite of the group. Look how big he is! Look how complete! I'd never held such a big one before this, much less owned it! And he's still a little guy compared to some out there! So cool!!! And he is indeed a rock, because fossils :D

And the last one isn’t a rock at all, but come on, ACTUAL VIKING AGE METAL. That's just cool.

But what's this? A mere decorative addition? An imposter?!

Sure, sand and glass are both made of silicates, but they don't really count as Cool Rocks, or even gems. But what's that there, tucked away in the shell...?

My genuine pink pearl from Hawaii! Now, granted, pearls are not your typical rock. But they ARE considered gems, just made by a living creature, so I felt it deserved a mention. I got this two years ago on a family vacation to Maui, at the Dole Plantation. While pearls have never been a favorite of mine, this one is special to me because my mother, sister, and cousin also did the "open an oyster and get the pearl inside" touristy thing that places like this offer. We almost all got different colors, and it was just really cool. There is a hole drilled in one side in case I ever want it mounted in a ring or something, but truthfully, I wish I had left it pristine. It now resides as a secret treasure in my other, glassier souvenir from that cool trip.

Alas, these are all the rocks and near-rocks I have to share. If you like cool rocks and want to learn actual cool science about LOTS of cool rocks, definitely check out @reddpenn's blog, where you will find MANY COOL ROCK POSTS SERIOUSLY REDD YOU HAVE SO MANY COOL ROCKS!!!

And if you wish to share YOUR cool rocks, I highly encourage you to do so! Let me be your forerunner in sharing cool rocks without actually knowing all the sciency stuff behind them, because sometimes you just like things because they are pretty and tickle your imagination.

~River

#rocks #geology #cool rocks #carnelian #citrine #geode #@reddpenn #for fun #river writes #river post

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