#folding rotors

[bladey-ranger-301]

Helicopters and their folding rotors

Description to each picture:

1. Neutral - this is neutral state of helicopters. They have no feelings. They simply chill and mind their businesses. Their rotors stay in common and neutral way.

2. Surprised - Their rotors lift a lot in the air due the emergency or high level of adrenaline. Again when they feel relaxed, they simply pull their rotors back down to neutral position.

3. Flirty - when helicopter want to impress other helicopter due their meeting, they lean their rotors against their side. This shows affection and the beauty of their rotors and body also.

4. Sad - when are helicopters sad or feel miserable or demotivated, they pull their rotors backwards and downwards.

5. Crying - when helicopters cry, they pull their rotors completely down on both sides of them like dead flowers.

6. Scared - when helicopters are scared, they move their rotors straight to the sides due to high pressure and anxiety and clear discomfort.

7. Annoyed - when helicopters are annoyed, they pull their rotors backwards and upwards to show their clear annoyed feeling.

8. Slightly angry - now all of their rotors are pulled backwards due to high anger inside them. Do not make them angry even more. It can end up really bad.

9. Super angry - helicopter’s rotors are thrown into every side in the air to show their anger and protective side of them. Do not come closer to them if you don’t know how to calm them down.

Second picture:

Here you can see that they can use their rotors as arms due fight. They can slap each other with their rotors. The bigger rotors and more rotors are, the pain gets worse.

Mouth of helicopters can be small at the first sight but when they open their mouth, you can clearly see how big their mouth is and how many teeth they have. {this is only a sketch tho xD}

@the-great-old-grump here is it x3

[thefifteenthindotribe]

Ace’s High:

Problem: The Insulindian Civil War was not the first war to see the use of aerostatic aircraft on both sides, but it was the longest. For eight years folded multi-rotor aircrafts criss-crossed the air above Revachol, Ozonne, Face-A-La-Mer, and the Arcade Islands. They made sweeps over sandy beaches and shot each other out of the blue sky, then sank as wrecks to the bottom of the sea. The Ace's High was a custom on the revolutionary side, performed by squadron mates after landing. Lieutenant Kitsuragi likes it... why is that?

Solution: For the rest of the world the Ace's High is *just a cool Revachol* thing, politically neutral. In Revachol it still holds revolutionary connotations. Also, have you looked at Lieutenant Kitsuragi's *clothes*? He wears a bomber jacket, just like the ones worn by aerostatic brigades. And those cargo pants could store tools for hotfixing your aerostatic... maybe you should ask him about this?

[literatecowboy]

Dr. Feelgood

10. The One Where Ghost Punches A Cop

Summary: You've been in trouble at work several times before for "lack of professionalism" but now you've gone too far. You've been reassigned to Task Force 141 as a temporary doctor to replace the ones they've made quit out of frustration. You must either prove yourself and earn your former position back at a prestigious military hospital in California or face dishonorable discharge. Author's Notes: This is my first fanfiction - please be gentle. Additionally, the reader's callsign is "Feelgood." I have done my best to write the reader as ambiguous regarding appearance, but she/her pronouns and AFAB anatomy will be utilized. I hope for this to be a slow-burn romance with Simon "Ghost" Riley.  Warnings: Hospitals, angst, police, arrests, punching

Masterlist

-----

You were up an instant, the tears gone from your eyes but worry still clouding your heart. You turned the corner into the lone bedroom and locked eyes with Price who gave you a weak smile. 

“Feelin’ better already,” he grunted, his eyes flicking behind you as Simon joined you in the doorway. “Son, if you don’t marry her, I think I might. Or at least, I’d like Soap or Gaz to. We’re keeping this one.”

You rolled your eyes and scoffed playfully, unable to stop the smile and the warmth that crept to your face. 

“You’re high, captain. Now settle back and relax, I’ll get you some water,” you said, slipping back out the door and heading for the kitchen. Simon stepped fully into the room, letting the door shut behind him as he took a seat beside the bed. 

“Think I’d like to someday,” he said. 

“What’s holding you back?” Price asked, trying to sit up in his bed but wincing at the pain caused by the exertion. 

“Think she’d ever want her old life back? A fancy doctor in California giving up that lifestyle for a soldier who could die any moment?” he asked.

“Think she’d laugh you outta this house if she ever heard you call her fancy, mate.” Price said. Simon snorted and nodded, shaking his head. 

“Don’t have to be a soldier forever, you know. Could make a life for yourself - something easier.” Price said, studying Simon as he sat staring at the bedsheets. This made the lieutenant sit up straighter. 

“Don’t think I’m made for that. Don’t think any of us could…” he trailed off, meeting the captain’s gaze once more. 

Their conversation ceased when you returned to the room, a glass of cool water in your hand.

—

Evac came several days later when the snowstorm had abated. A helicopter came to the field outside of the safehouse and retrieved all of you. Price was the first aboard and settled heavily into a seat near the back with your assistance. You sat beside him to keep an eye on him as the rest of the boys chucked the gear into the heli and hopped in. It took off before the door even finished closing. 

The flight back home seemed quicker than the one to the mission, most likely because you were busy the majority of the time tending to the Captain. Near the end, Gaz and Soap stepped in so you could rest. 

When the helicopter landed, the ground crew didn’t bother waiting until the rotors had stopped spinning to throw open the door. An unfamiliar medical team rushed to Price and, despite his protests, loaded him onto a stretcher and started loading him into the back of an ambulance. You leapt off out of the helicopter and jogged after him, attempting to climb into the ambulance with him, but you were held back back by a military policeman. 

“Ma’am, are you the individual who performed an authorized appendectomy on Captain John Price?” he asked sternly. Ghost, Soap, and Gaz had come to your side now and you looked back at them with a furrowed brow. 

“I am,” you said, folding your arms across your chest. “What is this about?” 

“You’re being placed under investigation for criminal medical malpractice. I’m placing you under arrest.” he said, producing a pair of cuffs and taking ahold of your arm with a rough grip. Without hesitation, Ghost shouldered his way between you and the officer, shoving him back and ushering you behind him. Soap grabbed his arm and held him back and Gaz came to your side. 

“Under whose authority? The doctor operated under the Captain’s own direction in order to save his life. To arrest her on such a charge would be inappropriate.” Gaz said.

“The order comes directly from General Shepherd - the very top. Step aside or I’ll have the rest of you arrested for obstruction of justice,” the officer ordered. Ghost bristled, but you lay a hand gently on his bicep. 

“I’ll go willingly,” you said softly, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. You offered the officer your hands and he cuffed you immediately, your vision blurring. 

“Call Laswell,” Ghost said, offering Gaz his phone, who looked confused. 

“Why can’t you–”

Ghost took a step forward and dropped the military policeman with a single punch to the face. 

—

Later that evening you sat against the wall of your holding cell, snuggled as much as you could be into Ghost’s side. He had slid a bulky arm through the bars to wrap it around you and sat quietly, rubbing your side as you sniffled. 

“It was stupid of you to do that,” you mumbled, brushing away your tears with your sleeve. Ghost merely shrugged and pressed a kiss to your temple. 

“They wouldn’t have let me come with you otherwise.” he said softly. It was quiet for a moment. 

“I love you,” you whispered. Ghost squeezed you gently. 

“I love you too,” he said after a minute. The sound of keys jingling broke the romantic moment. 

“You’re out of here for now. Both of you,” the guard said, fitting the key first into the lock of your cell, then into the lock of Ghost’s. As you stepped into the hallway, Ghost took your hand again, and you walked together down the hall and toward freedom. 

“You’re not being charged, lieutenant. And despite Captain Price vouching for you, General Shepherd is insisting that you be court martialed for your actions. A date will be set soon and you will stand trial,” the officer said. You were offered your belongings back and took them - Ghost’s gear from the mission had been returned to the task force. 

Soap was waiting outside with a car and you pulled him into a tight hug the moment you saw him. 

“How’s Price?” you asked immediately, holding him at arms length and looking deep into his eyes for any indication of bad news. 

“He’s okay, lass. They took him in for a second surgery but you had done a good enough job. Gaz is with him now, they’re at the hospital. How are you holding up?” he asked. You shivered. 

“It was…cold in there.” you murmured. Ghost rested a hand on your lower back. 

“Kept ‘er safe. Let’s go see the captain.”

—

The ride to the hospital didn’t take long, but before you could enter and head up to Price’s room, your phone rang. The number was familiar. Ghost studied you as you shakily tapped answer and lifted the receiver to your ear. 

“What can I do for you, Dr. Klein?” you asked, leaning against the car as it stood parked in the hospital lot. 

“I’ve heard rumblings about you, doctor. You seem to have caused quite a stir during your time with the SAS.” he said, his voice not betraying any emotion. 

“You know me, sir. Did you expect anything else?” you asked, doing your best to put on your most confident voice. Were you about to be fired? Kicked out not only from your position with the 141 but also from your position working with the American military in California?

“I went over the progress report submitted by one Captain John Price, and I must say that I am impressed. I did not expect you to make progress with your professionalism so quickly. It has been recommended to me that you return to your position here in California and be taken off of your probationary period effective immediately.” he said. Your mouth went dry and your heart fell into your stomach, a cold sweat blooming across your body. 

“...What?” you asked, unable to control your emotions any longer. 

“Your captain has insisted that you return and resume your position here immediately. I expect you by the end of the week.”

You hung up the phone, tears pooling in your eyes as your hand flew to your mouth. 

“What is it?” Ghost asked, the concern evident in his voice as he took hold of your hands and gazed at you. 

“Price gave the order for me to go back to California.”

—

“What the fuck is wrong with you, John?” you barked, pushing past Gaz in the doorway and shouldering your way into Price’s hospital room, your furious gaze locking onto him the second you located him. He raised his head from his pillow and gave a weak smile. 

“Hello to you too, doc.” he said, sitting up slowly and settling himself in the bed. 

“You’re getting rid of me?” you barked, your hands flying to your hips. “You’re the one who gave me the order to operate on you. I caught a fucking court martial because of you. I–”

“You’ll be safer in California.” Price said, raising a hand to silence you. “Shepherd is up to something. I don’t trust him, and it’s obvious that he’s trying to get rid of you. If you were to go back to California, you’d be out of harm’s way.”

“I’d still be facing a fucking court martial. What is going to do, kill me? I care too much about all of you to go back. I-I love Simon too much to leave. I belong here, with the 141” you said, your voice cracking. It went quiet, and Price sighed. 

“I’ll help you fight it to the best of my ability. Laswell is working on getting the charges dropped already. If it’s really what you want…then you can stay.”

—

You left the hospital later that night with Soap and Gaz at your side. Simon had conspicuously disappeared not long after things had settled down and you hadn’t seen him since. 

“Broody fucker is probably off lurkin’ in the shadows. He’ll catch up - no offense, but ya need tae go shower, bonnie,” Soap had teased. The three of you had driven back to your barracks together and they had seen you into your room before heading off to their own. 

A long shower had you feeling better - it had been a long last few days, and as much as you wanted to collapse into bed and sleep your exhaustion away, you were starving. 

You padded down the hall and toward the kitchen slowly, your fuzzy slippers protecting your feet from the cold, concrete floor of the 141’s residence hall. It was quiet with the exception of snores drifting out of Soap’s room - you couldn’t help but smile at that. 

On your way back from the kitchen, snacks in hand, you noticed that the doors to your med bay were ajar. Upon poking your head in, you found that your normally locked office door was open too. Worry filled your heart and you padded inside to check for any intruder. 

As you emerged from your office, the sound of boots on the tiled floor startled you. Ghost met you in the middle of the med bay, hands in his hoodie pockets. He wasn’t wearing his balaclava. 

“Oh, you scared me, love. Where did you run off to?” you asked, offering him a tired smile as you moved to head back to your room. Simon held up a hand, stopping you. 

“Wait,” he said, looking away and fiddling in his pocket nervously. “I’ve never been good at these things,” he muttered, producing a little box from his pocket. Your heart skipped a beat, and you froze. 

“Sorry - didn’t know there were sizes. So I had to get this because I didn’t know yours,” he said, getting down to one knee and gazing up at you. There was no shake in his hands as he slid the box open, revealing a beautiful silver necklace with a small glittering stone set into it. 

“Simon,” you whispered, and his eyes found yours. 

“Would you marry me?” he asked.

-----

taglist: @iamaliceinwonderland, @itsmeamysworld, @ghostlythots, @oranoyaora, @keiva1000

[clarissaexplainsbatchall]

Whirling rotors blew snow about in a cloud of white as the recovery VTOLs came in over FOB Hawk. Below them, hanging from a dozen taut lines, was a Coyotl omnimech inwith its left leg sheared off at the knee that they began to lower to the ground. Behind them came a Mad Cat III in the same teal and blue as the Coyotl, its right arm ending in a sparking stump at the elbow, and a great mass of melted armor like a tumor on its left side.

It came to a stop nearby where the VTOLs were depositing the omnimech. The sealed hatch to the cockpit opened and a rope ladder folded out of it, followed by Clarissa descending at a slow, tired pace. When she made it to the ground she reached for her neurohelmet, a custom built thing in grey and silver. Where a visor would be on most models of neurohelm there was only a bulky bulge of steel and flashing lights, leaving her looking like some kind of insectoid alien thing come to haunt the base.

She clicked a pair of fasteners on the helmet and in an instant the lights blinked out. As did the world. The aurora in the sky, the snow, the bustling people; they all vanished into nothingness to Clarissa. She could hear the wind blowing and the people rushing about, but to her sight, or rather lack of it, all was nothing. It was relaxing in its own way, a return to a childhood spent with only her skin, her nose, her ears, to guide her.

With a sigh she unzipped her cooling suit and the scent of her own body's sweat filled her nostrils. She really needed a shower.

[genius-built-donatello]

[Don hops backwards down the house’s front step, finally outside, which gives the shell’s arms just enough room to block Nova’s jump, grabbing her arms and tossing her down.]

HA! Try again!

[He’s still retreating towards the base. Ugh, this is going to be annoying. The arms can’t be active at the same time as the rotors - it’s a pretty long way away. The arms retract, rotors folding out while the bō spins to give him space.]

Where’s your dog, Nova? Did it do this?

@echo-nova-2036

[mugzymiik]

OK HEAR ME OUT. PINK CORRUPTION WARRIOR CATS AU

actually yall dont gotta hear me out bc me and a couple friends r doin it already but SHHHHH/j/lh

SO. A TPC WARRIORS AU.

the lore basically goes like:

the protagonist Clan/pure Clan is TreeClan; the antagonist/corrupt Clan is CorruptClan (lmao)

the Heroes are prophecy cats basically n the caretakers are their parents :D (the other biological parent for em Died thats why theres only 1 ofc)

Dubstep (courtesy of friendo :3)/Dubstar is the leader of CorruptClan

the prophecy cats (aka the Heroes) r meant to destroy CorruptClan :D

and uuuh. thats all we got for the lore so far :(

BUT!!!!! CHARACTER SHIT!!!!!!:

the prophecy cats (Heroes) have off-white irises :D (the off-white has a hint of whatever tf their color is) have an old example i made with Tsavoritepaw's eyes for a visual:

Pentellow n her fam r kittypets (for non-wc fans thats a house cat) but Pentellow n Tsavorite/Tsavoritepaw eventually join TreeClan after getting a dream from StarClan :D

Goldpaw (Gold) and Pyrare are maine coons. BIG FUCKS. this is not debatable/nsrs

Tsavoritepaw (Tsavorite) is a medicine cat apprentice and his mentor is Irisshade (Iris) >:]

most of Pentellow's family are Scottish folds!!! i chose this for artistic shit bc i can make their ears shaped like pentagons/hexagons/whatever and i thought thatd be cool >:]

Deathberrypaw (Cyanide) is a siamese!!!

Cintagon is Round <3

Heli and Ketches are helpful loners :D

Heli has a split tail (to represent a helicopter's rotor!!)

they have their respective shapes on their paws!!! like,,,have a piece of Wolfspike (Lythorus)'s concept sketch thing for example:

Cubecry (Cube) has droopy ears <333

Goldpaw (Gold) and Pyrare are former loners/rogues

I CANT REMEMBER ANY MORE OFF OF THE TOP OF MY HEAD BUT I WILL PROBABLY DO A FOLLOWUP TO THIS IF I EVER DO,,

yeag

shape kitties <3

[surgepricing]

That RWBY retrospective was a great read. Would you be willing to share the rest of your deep dive? I would love to read it

Thought long and hard about what I wanted to show off next; very rarely did I get into discussing RWBY in later volumes without stepping on some toes. I decided I'd post one of the more tame chapters from the Volume 2 recap, just to see what people have to say. I hope you enjoy it.

I won't be able to do this with every recap while preserving the images and gifs I used, since there's a limit of 30 and sometimes my posts went well beyond that, but I can always try other options.

Title: RWBY 09 – Volume 2, Second Arc (Part I) Original Posting Date: Dec 19, 2020 Episodes Covered: Volume 2, Episodes 5 & 6

Alright. So far, Volume 2 is not taking me to happy places. But why stop now?

We ended on a gigantic fight between four girls and a robotic mech.

V2E5, “Extracurricular”

The first thing I get to recap to you is a fight scene, right out of the gate. We open on Pyrrha, seeing her gear up for combat, spliced inbetween flashes of the fight itself. Now, for once, since this fight is neither the focus of the episode, nor that important overall, I’m not going to slavishly transcribe it, but rather give you the rundown:

It’s Pyrrha versus the entirety of Team CRDL (Cardin, Russel, Dove, and Lark, in case you forgot). Cardin’s packing his big giant mace, Russel’s armed with dual knives with what look like dust rotors, Lark is swinging around a halberd that looks completely unaltered, and Dove is armed with a slim double-edged blade that can fold into a pistol. If you want to see the fight that badly, I have good news: it’s easy to gif, since it’s brutally short, a mere minute and a half (1:40 to 3:14). So here, my treat:

As you can see, Pyrrha is completely untouchable here, even four-on-one. She sends CRDL’s members flying with precise strikes and sweeps, and deflects Dove’s and Russel’s blades with only the shield braced on her one arm without even going off-balance. Sky and Cardin hit a bit harder, and Cardin gets points for being the only one to take more than three seconds to demolish, but she trounces him, too, the minute she sees an opening. All in all, she was in complete control of the battle and it showed.

You might be wondering how Pyrrha could so skillfully dismantle four attackers, some of whom have clear advantages on her in size and weight and who were attacking together. Don’t worry—you’ll see.

The lights come on in the arena, and Glynda’s voice again announces the end of the match, complimenting Pyrrha and mentioning she’ll have no trouble qualifying for the Vytal Tournament. She turns to the stands, asking any of the attending students if they’d like to fill one last match. RWBY, who are in the stands, appear uninterested, but we can see two familiar faces sitting just behind them. Glynda zeroes in on Blake, who hurriedly snaps some book shut, accusing her of being rather ‘docile’ in recent classes, but before she can volunteer her, a hand is raised and Mercury’s voice pipes up.

Glynda makes to select an opponent for him, but he stops her—he wants to go a round with Pyrrha. Glynda, clearly a tad peeved at having been interrupted twice, tries to tell him that she’s already finished a match, but Pyrrha welcomes another fight, very happy to take him up on it.

Mercury, legs greaved in black metal and showing off glinting silver bullets loading the chambers, slowly struts onto the field to meet his opponent, and in the background, Emerald glances at the back of Ruby’s head, then at the match, with a pointed focus on her eyes. Mercury takes a kickboxing stance, while Pyrrha stands with shield and xiphos at the ready. The two of them rush to meet each other, and Mercury throws a kick that meets Pyrrha’s shield before she sweeps his other leg out from under him. He makes distance with many an unnecessary backflip.

The two fighters clearly appraise one another, before Pyrrha runs forward and presses him. Mercury goes on a fantastic defense, deflecting her strikes and trying to get around her shield, but this enables Pyrrha to just butt him in the chest and send him skidding back.

Mercury nods, as if to say ‘eh, pretty good’, and in the stands, Ruby turns to compliment Emerald on how well her ‘friend’ is doing, who smiles and then rolls her eyes as soon as Ruby turns back towards the match. The two in the arena continue:

Mercury launches a fast and furious series of strikes with the goal of bringing a heavy boot down on something that gives, and Pyrrha performs the sickest move ever, throwing her sword into the air behind her and then just catching Mercury’s next kick with the back of her arm. Mercury undercuts the coolness of this just a bit by answering her next series of slashes with the re-equipped sword and knocking the xiphos out of her hand and some distance away. Pyrrha doesn’t look too concerned about this.

When Mercury makes to pounce on this advantage, she raises her free hand as if to catch his boot, but it doesn’t make contact. We the viewer see a very faint black outline around her hand and his boot as she does it. Mercury is sent off-balance, and takes a moment to absorb what just happened. Pyrrha rushes him, and he gets back up in time to meet her shield with both legs and fire his greave-guns, sending him shooting off of it and a good distance away, just in time to say the magic words before she can press her assault.

M: I forfeit.

Pyrrha is thrown off, and skids to a halt, surprised and rather annoyed at this turn of events. Mercury dismisses her—she’s a world-class fighter, and they’re obviously leagues apart. Glynda understandably shares her irritation, given that Mercury chose to fight her in the first place. Mercury and Emerald are both grinning.

Glynda reminds everyone that “the dance is this weekend” and their first mission is on Monday. RWBY file out of the arena, Blake’s nose buried in a notebook and Emerald watching them as they go. Mercury dryly remarks, as he comes up to Emerald, that learning is “so much fun”.

Now before I pounce on the words that I just bolded, which the next scene that we cut to would like to elaborate on, let me draw your attention to something:

Do you see this overhead shot of Beacon’s courtyard? To the right of RWBY, heading out, you will see Sun’s team, SSSN (pronounced “Sun”)—himself and Neptune, plus Scarlet and Sage.

That is their—Sage’s and Scarlet’s—only appearance this volume.

No, they do not actually interact with anyone nor are they involved in this scene whatsoever, they’re literally in the background and stay there. I don’t feel bad about spoiling that. Better we got it out of the way now. Do any of you remember something I highlighted in my Volume 1 Final Thoughts?

I said that slow pacing wasn’t something we could afford when this show only runs for 25% of the year and is on hiatus the other 75%. It’s not like live-action dramas, either, able to make up for that by running for 50 episodes at a time or packing 30-45 minutes into each episode. It seemed, at the time, an astounding feat of juggling to introduce so many new characters in the very last episode and then even more in the Volume 2 trailer and opening—but now we can see that it evens out, because they don’t intend on using any of them.

By this point in time, RWBY fans had been sitting on the knowledge that Sun had his own team, salivating in the aftermath of his glorious first impression, and hungering for some details on his crew for quite a while, and have at this point gone five weeks with nothing but scraps. They will go the rest of the volume—ten more weeks, what with the World of Remnant introduction—and then the rest of the Volume 2-3 hiatus with yet more nothing to go on.

Release date of Volume 2 Trailer: July 4th, 2014 Release date of Volume 3 Episode 2: October 31st, 2015.

Fifteen, almost sixteen months. Over a year. Not a year in which consistent content was coming—a year in which an official entry to the series’ collective body came and went. If you were actually interested in these characters as a team, any sparse involvement of the remaining two, or anything deeper than a petri dish from Sun and Neptune, you were absolutely not going to get it. Sucks to be you.

Love to Be a Part of It Someday: 10

*idly twirling a foil scraper* That’s not good. That is, in fact, pretty fuckin’ bad. Dickish, even. A point each for Sage and Scarlet, plus a point for the lack of unit behavior with Sun and Neptune—plus another for the conspicuous amount of time spent ignoring these dudes whose names haven’t even been said in-show. Fairest arrangement I can think of.

But that’s all I can say now. I will be bringing this back up later, near or at the end of the Volume. The same goes for the hair-ripping Exit Stage Left from last post that had me so bald.

So let’s move on to the issue actually comprising this scene.

Blake is lagging behind her team, head still buried in her notebook. Sun breaks off from his own team to catch up with her.

S: Hey, Blake! You, uh, doin’ okay?

B: I’m fine.

S: *clearing his throat* So I hear there’s this dance goin’ on this weekend… Agh, sounds...pretty lame, but you an’ me, I’m thinkin’, not as lame? Huh?

B: ...What?

S: The dance, this weekend! You wanna go, or what?

B: ...I don’t have time for a stupid dance. *turning and walking away* I thought you, of all people, would get that.

In case the tone of this conversation is not clear to you, here’s a gif, so you can see their body language like I can.

Sun is being his usual chill and somewhat dorky self, if a little nervous, not pushy or rude. Blake, who has suddenly developed noticeable circles under her eyes since leaving the school arena, responds in a much rougher tone than we might have expected given her previous characterizations. Sun is visibly deflated and her teammates eye her as she walks off. Ruby spares sad boi Sun a glance before we cut to the next scene.

B: You what?

Ruby answers that they want her to go to the dance. When Blake calls that ridiculous, Yang mentions that they’re worried about her. This investigation, she says, is starting to mess with her head.

Ohhh, the investigation! Yeah, that was a thing that happened last episode, wasn’t it?

Wiess mentions that Blake can’t sleep, hardly eats, and her grades are tanking. Blake wants to know why she should care about grades when lives are at stake! Yang responds that they know, and they’re still trying to find out what Torchwick is up to.

Ruby mentions that thanks to Blake and Sun, they know that he and the White Fang are operating somewhere outside of southeast Vale, and Weiss follows up that Schnee records indicated that Vale was clearly the primary target of dust robberies over the last month.

Not to interrupt yet more blossoming angst from Blake, but yeah, this is our reward for following that three-episode ‘arc’ that culminated in the Paladin fight. Weiss lists that last bit off as if it’s useful information—it isn’t, because the characters live in Vale, among the robberies, and the viewers have so far only been shown Vale, and robberies happening there. It gives them nothing to go on besides “hey, at least the plot isn’t operating outside of our reach, like in other countries!” and that is why I remain firm in my decision to award it the Road to Nowhere point.

But seriously, think about what’s going on here. Blake’s grievance about lives is that they’re at stake, not that any have been lost, just in case you don’t believe that all those massacred people on the interstate really last episode didn’t matter. They don’t even register here. As if to underscore the fact that we just hit the reset button—on everything, including Blake’s inner turmoil over Torchwick that seemingly got resolved in Episode 2—they’re even back in their standard outfits, with the cool, unique, badass outfits that they wore for an episode and a half completely ditched, forgotten, and never brought up again.

None of that mattered. We went nowhere.

Alright, now that I’m good and mad, let’s continue with the scene.

Y: Don’t forget about their missing military tech, too.

I’m fine! I’m cool, I’m calm, I’m fine!

(for reference here, the recap before, I had gone into an extended rant about how Torchwick just having a gigantic military mech made no sense, since it's not feasible for him to steal it undetected with his level of resources, and how barreling down a public interstate in it with the White Fang emblem stamped on it pretty much broadcasted his location and claimed the carnage so that it couldn't even be used to sow distrust against Ironwood).

When Blake protests that there’s still unanswered questions, Ruby responds that she won’t find any answers if she can’t even stay awake. Yang reiterates that they want her to relax a bit for one day, and Weiss insists it’ll be fun—because after all, Weiss and Yang are going to make sure of it! You see, they’re planning the whole event!

Yes, Yang said that verbatim. They—two girls—are planning a school event comprising not just the hundreds of students living at their campus, but hundreds more students coming in from three other countries! Sorry, I’m not letting you get away with that.

Ill Logic: 16

It isn’t alleviated by the fact that the event was originally being managed by four students instead of a mere two. Weiss mentions that upperclassmen team CFVY (pronounced “coffee”) aren’t back from their mission yet, so she and Yang were asked to pick up where they left off. Weiss promises that after the dance, they can return to their regularly scheduled business, nose in Torchwick’s business and all.

B: I think this is a colossal waste of time.

She gets up and strides out, mentioning that she’ll be in the library, with her team bemoaning that she can’t keep going like this.

But enough about that! There’s a knock on the door, and Weiss answers it. Guess who it is!

What he’s here for is obvious before he even says it. Weiss shuts the door in his face, and he knocks again, begging that she open it, and promising not to sing.

J: I lied!

W: [facepalming]

J: Weiss Sch-nee! ♪ Will you accompany me? ♪ To the daaaaance on! ♪ Sunday? ♪

W: Are you done?

J: ...Yes?

W: No. [she shuts the door in his face, then turns to her teammates] ...What?

Y: And that, is why they call you the ice queen.

W: All my life, boys have only cared about the perks of my last name. [crossing her arms and turning away] Besides, I already have a date in mind.

R: Date or no date, none of this will matter if we can’t get Blake to go.

The scene here ends on a zoom-in towards the sky outside the open window. But first…You didn’t think we were going to escape this shit without a little commentary on boundaries, did you?

Mkay. We’re not quite done with this issue, but we may as well do this—you may be flashing back to the first interaction Weiss actually had with Jaune, and his very pushy and rude flirting in the same scene. I mentioned there that it translated worse when written than watched, and could easily be brushed off as harmless even though it wasn’t. There is no such allowance here.

We’ve already established, through that scene and through the recent cold shoulder she gave him in class, that Weiss has no interest in Jaune’s time. Trying to ask her out to a dance, therefore, is a bad idea, but not necessarily a full-stop no-bad-wrong. Once she made it clear via door slam that she still wasn’t interested, that was the official cutoff, and any further pursuit should’ve been given up. He continues to pester her, and then she still gives him the official “No”.

If, like me, you mis-remembered this as Jaune asking her out like four or five times past a clear “No”, don’t worry, there’s still more to talk about. Because while Jaune is still over the line—

Jaune: 8

—what the real issue here is, is the framing of Weiss’ answer. See, it’s not because Jaune has qualities that turn Weiss off, or that his behavior is bad, or even that she simply doesn’t want to go to the dance—it’s that she assumes that Jaune only wants her because she’s the illustrious Schnee heiress. It is framed as though Weiss’ ‘no’ to Jaune is simply one of caution rather than actual disinterest in him—as though he ‘deserves a chance’, and the only reason he isn’t getting one is because a) Weiss made the wrong assumption and b) she already has the spot filled.

The problem is that Weiss doesn’t need a reason. She may hate Jaune’s guts, or may be head-over-heels with him. She may simply find him unattractive, or may simply not enjoy his company. She may not enjoy dances on principle. She may already have a date, or may not. She may have no reason whatsoever to say no to Jaune.

And she can still say no to him, and deserves to have that respected. Because a girl doesn’t need a ‘good’ reason to reject a guy. The ‘no’ is the beginning, middle, and end. She says no, and that’s that.

Fauxminism: 6

There’s shades of this with Blake, too, mind, what with her team trying to push her to go to a dance she has no interest in. Blake may, like myself, simply not find dances enjoyable and want to skip it, regardless of whatever turmoil is causing her to lose sleep, but this passes just a tad more easily because her physical health and mindset are clearly not their best.

Back to the next scene. We are shown Jaune training with Pyrrha. Both of them are wielding their swords with both hands and have gone shieldless, so Pyrrha seems to be teaching him the basics. He presses her into a couple of sword locks, before she sweeps his legs out from under him with her own. She laughs, and compliments how much his swordplay has improved, extending a hand to help him up (while a very creepy but un-commented-on green glow emanates from the headmaster’s tower in the background).

She asks if he wants to go ahead with Aura training, and Jaune hesitantly wonders about skipping that for tonight. She recommends he keep at it, and that she’s sure they’ll discover his Semblance in no time (hinting for the audience that one is attached to the other). Jaune dismisses this as the problem, saying “It’s dumb”. Pyrrha presses him when he clams up, and he admits he wants time to lament about Weiss.

What about her, Pyrrha asks, and he confesses he asked her to the dance and she promptly shut him down. Pyrrha, quite stiffly, mentions that there’s plenty of fish, as the saying goes. Easy for her to say, he says, since she probably has guys falling over themselves in line to hit that up. She subtly hints that this isn’t the case, only to be blown off. If she doesn’t get a date to the dance, he says, he’ll wear a dress.

Wait for it. I’ll comment on it in time.

Pyrrha gives Jaune’s retreating back the solemn gaze of the unrequited crush, and all I can do is question her taste, which I will do in detail soon enough.

The next scene we cut to is the dorm room where Cinder, Emerald, and Mercury are staying. They’re commenting on ‘the invincible girl’, Pyrrha Nikos, who Mercury appears to have figured out. He and Emerald explain that her semblance is ‘polarity’, but she hides it well, using it to manipulate combat in her favor in subtle ways that won’t be noticed if you aren’t looking. In this way, she creates the impression that she really is untouchable in combat on skill alone, rather than because most fighters would realistically be helpless against her.

We will ask a question now: if Pyrrha’s so good at being subtle about her abilities, why did she magically wave Mercury’s foot away from her face rather than simply catching it? She proved she was capable of doing just that. One looks significantly less suspect than the other, and likely wouldn’t have actually been caught by Mercury’s oh-so-clever analysis!

Ill Logic: 17

Your Fight Scene Sucks: 10

C: People assume she’s fated for victory, when she’s taken fate into her own hands. Interesting. Add her to the list.

How very ominous. Mercury mentions that Cinder should be able to take her easily, and she adopts a more serious demeanor as she declares that it’s not about overpowering the enemy, but taking away what power they have. How different those two things really are, in this context or any, is something I’ll leave up to readers.

When Mercury bemoans more waiting around, Cinder mentions a ‘fun weekend’ in store for them, while holding up a needle she’s using to sew something. The episode ends.

Before I move on to the next episode, I need to air an issue I’ve been saving since the beginning of this one, and I will preface it with an apology, because one last time, I’m about to use the j-word: juvenile.

It took me a while to find that word, you know, when I was first outlining a spork of this animation, and when I was searching for and finally settled on it, I was thinking of this plot point right here, and nothing else. It didn’t occur to me until I was actually writing the recaps for the preceding episodes just how many times I could, and would, apply that word.

And it does occasionally hit me that I may come off as snobbish or elitist for that, and I apologize if so. I promise that’s not my intention. I’m not some fun-hating asshat that takes issue with a show being accessible to kids and not being filled with blood and gore and sex and f-bombs. I’m not trying to put RWBY ‘beneath’ me.

But there is nonetheless a problem with how this show is treading its water. There are certain things the audience is expecting, was expecting, and some they most certainly weren’t—and probably didn’t welcome. And as for me, I would call this one of them. Let’s lay our cards on the table here: we now have a dance arc to sit through. Dance arcs are restricted, generally speaking, to a few different settings, and it’s rather difficult to make most of them cross over with the dramatic, monster-slaying world of Remnant. And failing the one, rather more flexible type of dance arc—the whole ‘regal, fancy high-society ball’ type—we instead are being handed the other type. Say it with me now, what we’ve really got is a prom arc.

I cannot fucking stand the prom arc.

Suppose for a minute that I did enjoy high-school shows, of which the prom arc is the most standard, inseparable staple. Regardless of the fact that I detest them in general, there are interesting things you can do in a high school setting, especially if there are fantasy elements involved. If binging Supernatural doesn’t scar me deeply enough by the time I’m done, hell, the one I’ll probably move on to is Teen Wolf, in which I understand this problem to have reared its ugly head. The prom arc is emblematic of both high school shows and what ends up being wrong with most of them, in that it’s the least interesting thing you can possibly show me.

Absent any monster-slaying or teens with superpowers, maybe on occasion I can still get invested in a plot about how some chick is trying to hide her pregnancy, about how a bully gets his due (one we had in this show, as it happens!), or how some kid getting in with the wrong crowd tries to get out before it destroys his life. To say nothing of the oft-ignored or mishandled potential of trying to watch teens struggle through things like sexuality or gender, which more and more of us could relate to and want to see. And yes, even that is relevant to what I will say later on.

The fact of the matter is, ‘who is taking who to prom? Tee-hee! Ooooh!’ is the plot point that is both the least interesting and the one that often takes up way too much time and attention. It’s tired, annoying, endlessly-retreaded, boring…and now we have one right here.

Coming right off the heels of Torchwick chasing gun-and-sword-wielding teens down a crowded freeway and the large-scale implications Blake keeps babbling about, why should we disagree with her assessment of this? Why on earth would we care about some freaking prom? Do we not have a million more interesting things to look at?!

And don’t think that it ends with me calling this farce for what it is. There’s also the fact that it doesn’t make sense. This prom is happening on the heels of a bazillion exchange students arriving to stay on campus.

Really? You want to ask hundreds of people who are unfamiliar with the city and have never been here before to try and find dates, ostensibly with people from other countries that they hardly know, when they barely know their way around? That makes sense to you? Someone should bitch slap Ozpin upside the head for thinking that’s a good idea.

Ill Logic: 18

It’s not getting Reliable Leader points because I can’t prove it was him that organized it, but it’s still a terrible idea nonetheless. Whatever, let’s move along.

V2E6, “Burning the Candle”

We open on Ruby sitting at a table when set upon by Weiss, asking her opinion: which tablecloth should she go with? But they’re both the same, and Weiss leaves in a huff when this is pointed out. Yang is carrying a huge amp and sets it down with a colossal thud. She asks if Ruby has picked out her dress yet, and Ruby, incredibly down in the dumps, asks what the point is if Blake isn’t going.

You have a weird fixation on Blake attending a very pointless event, you know that? Do you have some terminal inability to enjoy anything if it isn’t being done with your whole teeeeaaam? I’m gonna start calling you Esme.

Yang waves this off: don’t worry, Ruby, Blake’s going! Said with a confident smirk, which given Yang’s track record with coercion so far, does not make me think the things I imagine Rooster Teeth wanted me to think, so great work there. She then snaps at Weiss that she doesn’t want doilies everywhere. No doilies, no fog machines, Weiss answers.

This leads to a comment from Neptune, who walks in with Sun. Lovely to see you two again, did you ever find your missing two team members? No? Sorry to hear that, keep at it! Neptune thinks this might be pretty cool, and Sun asks if the ladies are all ready for ‘dress-up’. Ruby is not as enthused as Yang and Weiss are at the idea of getting all dolled up to turn heads. So what are they going to be wearing, the latter asks?

S: Pfft, uhhh, this?

Before I can point out that this is yet another detail implying that Sun is poor, Neptune tries to wave him off, but Sun will not be ignored. He mentions that, despite having moved to Mistral, he grew up in Vacuo, which viewers will by now understand to be a desert nation and rather dangerous.

S: It’s not exactly a shirt-and-tie kind of place.

Y: Yeah, we’ve noticed.

Holding my tongue here.

Sun, visibly uncomfortable, asks what Blake thinks of all this, and if she’s still in her ill mood, and they confirm that she is. Yang, again all a-smirking, says to just trust her, because Blake will definitely be at the dance tomorrow. Whatever could she mean?

She means racism, of course! See, in the next scene, she’s got a laser pointer, and interrupts Blake’s time poring over a library computer by bothering her with it until she gives in and tries to follow it to the source. It is an extended sequence and very uncomfortable. Remember: this would not matter if Blake was just a cat person, and cat people and humans coexisted with nothing else said about it. But the faunus in this show are explicit stand-ins for people of color! So this joke is unfunny and offensive by default. Imagine if some black kid was hanging out on the computer and some rudeass white kid started trying to dangle fried chicken or watermelon in front of them, ‘cause black people love that stuff, right? Ha. Ha. Ha. So very funny.

RSVP: 22

When Blake finally finds Yang holding the laser pointer, the latter drags her off by the arm, claiming they ‘need to talk’ and no, it’s not funny. Cut to the next scene!

Lie Ren walks out of the JNPR dorm’s bathroom wearing only a towel. In the exact same manner, Jaune comes out of nowhere and grabs him by the arm, claiming they need to talk. Ha, funny, hee.

J: Ren…I’m just gonna come out and say it. You…are one of my best friends. These past few months, I feel like we’ve really bonded! Even though...you don’t say much. I mean, you’re really quiet. To be perfectly honest, I don’t know that much about you personally...but darn it, I consider you to be the brother I never had!

R: [still in a towel and visibly uncomfortable] ...And I you.

J: Which is why I wanted to get your advice on...girls!

I love when racism is followed by good old-fashioned homophobia! Because yes, that’s what this is. The fact that Ren’s in a towel and Jaune starts by using language like “you’re one of my best friends” and the ever-suspect “come out and say it” make it clear that this is obviously a funny joke meant to make the audience laugh because oh, he sounds like he’s about to confess his love to another man! Isn’t that funny?!

*icily* Miles Luna, you see this big fat dick? Eat me. It’s fucking scary as hell for gay people trying to approach love and you don’t get to make us the butt of your jokes.

And for the record, no, I don’t think that was a one-off. See, people watching RWBY had, before Volume 2 even aired, asked about the topic of sexuality within this show. They wanted to know...well, mostly whether their favorite ships were gonna happen, but beyond that, they wanted to know whether Rooster Teeth intended to display non-heterosexual identities and how they felt about doing so. Monty went on record and assured them the characters would figure that sort of thing out under their own power and on their own time, and that it would not be brushed aside but also wouldn’t be a huge part of the story. So by this point, Rooster Teeth are already aware they had an LGBT audience...and this little scene still got greenlit.

Malevolent? Malicious? No and no. But abso-fucking-lutely in poor taste? Definitely so.

Jaune eventually says that he wants to know how Ren and Nora got together, only for them both to uncomfortably clarify that they’re not a couple. He urges her to put her headphones back on, since obviously he wanted Ren’s opinion on this and not hers. Dick. Ren asks him what this is about.

J: It’s Weiss. I’m completely head-over-heels for her, and she won’t even give me a chance. She’s cold, but…she’s also incredible. She’s smart, graceful, and talented...I mean, have you heard her sing? I just wish she’d take me seriously, you know? I wish I could tell her how I feel, without messing it all up.

Yes, we are still not done with this tiresome matter.

First, this was clearly an attempt to back up what I said above: it’s all a misunderstanding! Jaune doesn’t want her because she’s a Schnee, (or just because she’s hot), he’ll have you know! It has nothing to do with superficial qualities like her money (or her hotness). It’s all about those other not-at-all-superficial qualities like how graceful she is, what a beautiful voice she has, and uhh, what was that last one? Oh yeah, how smart she is! Notice that Jaune said nothing that actually indicated he knows her. Is she a kind person? Does she have passion or drive? Does she care about others? Does she put forth effort to be the best she can be and make every day great? What are her interests and hobbies? The best you could say is that ‘smart’ technically isn’t superficial, but it’s one short step away from ‘aw yeah, she’s got a brain to go with those hot titties!’

This was clearly a transparent attempt to smooth over burgeoning distaste for Jaune and his interactions with women, so it’s getting two points, and one of them is our very first!

Jaune: 9

Band-Aid Brigade: 1

Moving on. Pyrrha cuts in, telling Jaune that if he really feels that way about Weiss, he should just tell her. No schemes, no pick-up lines, just honesty.

P: Jaune. You can’t get it wrong if it’s the truth!

I beg to differ! He can get it very wrong! He’s gonna show us that much very soon!

But Jaune likes this advice and hurries out, leaving Nora to sadly advise Pyrrha to practice what she preaches.

Now we cut back to Blake and Yang. They are occupying some unused theater classroom, with Yang sitting cross-legged on the teacher’s desk and Blake pacing back and forth with her arms crossed. Blake insists that they can’t afford to slow down, while Yang says that taking a break isn’t a luxury, but a necessity. At Yang’s invitation, Blake reluctantly sits down to listen to her story.

Cuz it’s story time!

Y: Ruby and I grew up in Patch, an island just off the coast of Vale. Our parents were Huntsmen. Our dad taught at Signal, and our mom would take on missions around the kingdom. Her name was Summer Rose. And she was like...Super-Mom. Baker of cookies and slayer of giant monsters. And then...one day she left for a mission and never came back. It was tough. Ruby was really torn up, but…I think she was still too young to really get what was going on, you know? And my dad just kinda...shut down. It wasn’t long before I learnt why. Summer wasn’t the first love he’d lost. She was the second. The first was my mom. He wouldn’t tell me everything. But I learnt that they had been on a team together with Summer and Qrow. And that she’d left me with him just after I was born. No one had seen her since.

Yes, this is belated Yang Time. Pay careful attention to what she said here. I’ll be talking about it in just a minute.

Blake asks why Yang’s birth mother left. Yang answers that it’s that exact question that ate at her as a kid and drove her to find out why. We transfer to art deco as Yang delves deeper into her backstory. She found a clue, she describes, while the art deco shows us a picture in a broken picture frame, that she thought would lead her to her mother or answers thereabouts.

Y: I waited for Dad to leave the house, put Ruby in a wagon, and headed out. I must’ve walked for hours. I had cuts and bruises, was totally exhausted…but I wasn’t gonna let anything stop me. When we finally got there, I could barely stand. But I didn’t care. I had made it. And then I saw them. Those burning red eyes. There we were. A toddler asleep in the back of a wagon and a stupid girl too exhausted to even cry for help. We might as well have been served on a silver platter. But, as luck would have it...our uncle showed up just in time. My stubbornness should’ve gotten us killed that night.

The bolded material, this time, is for me. First, I know a lot of you will expect me to comment on Yang’s parents and what they’re like, and on this matter, one in particular. But please wait. Give it time—there is an appropriate moment to talk about this, and you need the full effect. For now, let’s just focus on the first one: Ruby.

In addition to Yang Time, we now have our very first details about Ruby’s mother, Summer Rose! Fans had been itching to hear about this ever since that extremely loaded song, Red Like Roses Part II, debuted in Volume 1. A dark past, trauma, a desire to know why her protectorate left her...and then we find out Ruby was too young to understand Summer dying. That handily puts a stopper in any of that juicy development we were kind of relying on for Ruby, not to mention any development of it in the future, too. It’s not as though it doesn’t make sense for Yang to angst about a missing mother as much as Ruby, but this kind of locks it onto Yang and away from Ruby. And with Yang focusing on her birth mother over Summer, that means Summer will continue to be unexplored. And Rooster Teeth will continue to fumble this going ahead.

At the end of this story, Blake makes a very good point: these situations are not the same, and she is not a child with no sense of scope. Yang, gripping the desk rather hard, reiterates that she isn’t telling Blake to stop. After all, she herself hasn’t—she’s still looking for details about her birth mother. The difference is, she doesn’t let the search control her, which is what she wants for Blake. Blake insists that she doesn’t understand. That she’s the only one who can fight this. Why…? I’m not sure. Perhaps you guys need to see how this goes down:

Y: No, you don’t understand! If Roman Torchwick walked through that door, what would you do?

B: I’d fight him!

Y: You’d lose!

B: I’d stop him!

Y: You can’t even stop me!

I’m not of the opinion that Yang shoving Blake necessarily constitutes abuse, or even just an unhealthy scenario. Certainly I wouldn’t do it, but Yang is supposed to personify ‘tough love’, and she’s right: Blake is literally running on fumes and would suck ass if the time came for her to get what she wants. That said, this is another one of those Yang ThingsTM that looks way worse when considering prior missteps surrounding her. Fortunately, I think this is one Rooster Teeth actually caught onto in time—but that’s for later.

Yang gives Blake a hug, reiterating one more time that even though she supports what Blake wants, the way she’s going about it is self-destructive. And that’s why they want her to get some rest, for both her and the people she cares about. And...maybe try and head to the big event tomorrow, if she feels up to it? Yang’ll save her a dance, she says. They both leave, allowing us to get a good look at the winged gear emblem Yang was drawing on the chalk board.

(I will, even with what I said earlier, condemn anyone that, like Certain People Back in the Day, has the audacity to say this would’ve been a perfect time for them to kiss or for Yang to ask Blake to the dance. That turns what is framed as a gentle suggestion into the sort of thing that you do not do to an emotionally unstable and hurting person. You wait ‘til a person is stable and in good health to put the moves on them or you face my fiery wrath.)

That was pretty okay. A bit belated, and a bit of a forced fit for Blake’s problem, but we did indeed get two things I said we needed in my Volume 1 Final Thoughts—in-depth Yang characterization and one-on-one interaction with her team members. Here, have a cookie.

We cut to Jaune strolling down the sidewalk with a big ol’ smile on his face, holding a white flower and yes, he is doing exactly what he shouldn’t be doing—!

Jaune: 10

Pyrrha, I gotta pin this one on you. You were in the room when Jaune said he got turned down, why did you encourage this?

Yes, he’s off to go announce his feelings for Weiss! On...the night before the dance. And unless I’m just dumb, hoping to get a date with her. But his attempt is, as we already know, doomed. Jaune passes an alleyway, only to hear Weiss’ voice...calling Neptune’s name. Peeking around a corner, he (and we) watch Weiss catch up with the man himself, who asks what’s up.

W: I know this is a little...unorthodox, but…I wanted to ask you something. Would you...like to accompany me to the dance tomorrow?

Neptune’s hand is behind his head in apparent recognition of how ‘unorthodox’ this is. Jaune, crushed, backs away from the alley and goes back to his dorm, the flower discarded, and since he didn’t stick around to see Neptune’s answer, neither do we.

We cut to the very next night, where the dance is happening indoors. Yang, in a very untypical plain white dress and heels, is hosting, and yes, before you ask, every single one of the couples in view behind her is visibly a man/woman pairing. The latest visitor Yang welcomes is her very own sister Ruby, who she gushes over for having gotten all prettied up, including heels. Ruby would like to complain about those in particular, lampshading Weiss’ uncanny ability to fight in them. We then cut to Sun.

Sun is wearing…black? His tail is swinging behind him and we see that he’s swapped out his white jacket and lack of shirt for an identical jacket in black, this time buttoned up just high enough to let him display his necklace, and that he’s also wearing a white tie, which he is very unfamiliar with and struggling in. Behind him, a quiet voice reaches him:

B: I knew you’d look better with a tie.

Awwww!

She takes his arm, and he asks if this means they’re going, yanno, together. Technically yes, Blake says, though her first dance is spoken for.

Cutting back to the dance, we get a lovely view of all of those cookie-cutter heterosexual couples dancing, before...

…Blake finishes one dance, and starts another.

*tapping a foil scraper on the desk* Yes, I know I was a tad snide about the background characters, but we got the important bits here with the main characters. Via Blake dancing with Yang, we are being shown that it’s not a stigma for people of the same sex to dance together, even if they’re not there as a date, so to speak. I’m not going to call that an accident, because that was the purpose of the scene and that’s what it did. I am going to call this dangerous, because even if the intent was clean and hit the mark for once, this also adds potential energy to a burgeoning fandom war.

See, what they aimed for was “Same-sex couples can go to the prom dance!” And they got that. They did. Laud them for it. What they also got was “Blake and Yang went to the prom dance—right before she got together with Sun!”

Yang bows out, Sun steps in. I’ve already commented on the...particular energies of certain shippers in this fandom. I also mentioned that, with the somewhat-too-close relationship Rooster Teeth have with their fans, and the way they like to eat away at what gap there is between them, they can invite bad things. A lot of people were not happy with how Sun, the resident love interest, was still ‘getting the girl’. And yeah, that’s entirely on them—shippers take things too seriously and get very up in arms over shit that doesn’t matter. We know that, that’s what they do. But things like this stoke the eventual fires that break out. I, personally, would’ve had Blake dance with a woman that wasn’t the other half of the biggest ship in fandom at the time—Pyrrha or Weiss, perhaps—but I’m not going to berate RT for not thinking to do that.

Enough about that, though. Sun and Blake are very cute dancing together, as commented on by the others, who are very happy that Blake is happy and is going so far as to laugh, apparently having gotten some rest and improved.

When Ruby asks what they do now, Yang just tells her to have fun before walking off, as does Weiss. She’s left alone to complain about her dumb stilt heels she can barely walk in. The music takes on a twinkling tone as Ozpin shows up, asking if she’s not enjoying herself.

They talk about nothing. No, I’m serious, nothing of any importance is being said here. Ozpin and Ruby bemoan that life is more than just fighting, Ozpin says fighting and dancing aren’t that different, and then muses on bonds becoming stronger. I think he showed up just to give this closing line:

Oz: Nights like these are ones we’ll never forget.

Yang then welcomes in two more guests—Emerald and Mercury.

The episode ends. And so does this post—unfortunately, this arc has to be split in two as well. Like the last one, it’s a bunch of little annoying fails leading up to a huge fail-fest that will get me absolutely furious and chatty about it. Then we’ll do the World of Remnants, and then the last arc, which will take...three posts? Maybe four?

Counts:

Jaune: 10 It Was Right There: 3 Fauxminism: 6 Hypocrisy: 1 Ice Cream Queens: 0 Reliable Leaders: 4 Prowling Wolf Fallacy: 0 Threatening Enemies: 2 Love to Be a Part of It Someday: 10 Your Fight Scene Sucks: 10 + 2 Evisceration Evasion: 2 Ill Logic: 18 Pay No Attention to the Man Behind the Veil: 4 + 1 Wink Wink, Nudge Nudge: 0 Band-Aid Brigade: 1 RSVP: 22 Road to Nowhere: 6 Y.A.S. Queen: 3

[saqvobase]

Mesmerizer Live-Action Music Video Plan

So I guess you could say that I've been mesmerized by 32ki's Mesmerizer.

I've been infected with an idea so I must write it down before I forget or get bored of it.

I've been kicking around the idea of making a live-action version of the music video. I want it to use as many practical effects as possible and as little CGI as possible, ideally accompanied by a musical cover of the song by the actors.

Part 1: Costumes

Hatsune Miku

Luckily there are plenty of Miku wigs cosplay that can be bought.

I couldn't find an exact equivalent for the dress, but it seems like a fusion between a retro diner dress and a maid outfit. I think there's a golf visor on her head? We don't see the back of the character, but I'm pretty sure there's a big white bow. All that might need to be custom made.

The cuffs can be ordered on their own.

I didn't think that they made bow ties this big, but the color, angle and size all fit. (This goes on the visor)

For the socks, the best equivalent I found was something called 'slouch socks'

Shoes. Red with a white sole and yellow laces, and four wheels. Roller skates would be dangerous on a set. I'm tempted to just nail some painted wooden cylinders to the bottom of some Converse and treat it like platform boots.

Kasane Teto

Luckily there are plenty of Kasane Teto cosplay wigs that can be bought.

Luckily Teto's outfit is much simpler. White collar shirt under a blue pinstripe shirt with a dark gray tie and the same gold brushed nametag.

These pants are so bright, I can't believe they make them in this color. Matching red suspenders were easy to find

I found this pair of yellow cotton gloves, I think it is more likely to be this than rubber. They can be rolled up at the wrist to be more like the ones in the video. I just need to find a pair that is a more saturated yellow.

The hat is red, short, circular with a flat top, switch a small black brim. I couldn't find anything like it, perhaps another custom job.

The smily face pin on the other hand, is a dime a dozen.

Ribbed gray socks

and black loafers.

Miscellaneous

For the name tag, I found these cheap brushed gold plastic pins. It could be cool to etch their names on it.

For the starry-eyed parts, I found these contact lenses. The reviews say that you can still see through them pretty well so that's good. I couldn't find any that were 4 pointed stars.

For the mesmerized parts, I found some contact lenses that totally black out the eye, they are over $100 for a set though.

Part 2: Set

The non-moving backgrounds such as the stripes or water drops can be done traditionally.

The clouds and hills are another story though.

My idea of how to do is is a series of belts with the image on them controlled by a spinning rotor. The song will be recorded in studio, so the sound of the rotors wont affect the video.

Part 3: Effects

In-Camera Effects

A colored frame like this can be placed between the camera and the set. This frame can be moved back and forth as needed.

for the parts when the frames cross, the frame can be folded like this. At the point of crossing cut the footage. Swap the backgrounds, and resume filming.

The center spinner could be threaded through a hole in this frame, with a small gear system for perpendicular rotational transfer.

Special Effects

The confetti can be spread from above, either by a machine or a helper. The curtain of confetti should be after the colored frame, but before the set so that the actors don't get covered.

Conclusion

Finally, the brainworm has left my brain, and transferred to a written medium. I have no idea how much any of this would cost, but I estimate it is below $10,000.

If you have any questions or suggestions let me know!!!!!

[floraphoenix]

Nightly Rounds (Amit Thakkar x Hufflepuff!Reader)

When Amit got appointed as Head Boy, he was absolutely thrilled. He'd worked so hard, bless him, and he got a fancy title!

But where there's a Head Boy, there's a Head Girl.

And who'd be more fitting than the graceful, intelligent, beautiful Hufflepuff who came crashing into his life in their first year.

He'd be pleased with this fact…

If she wasn't his enemy.

They'd had it out for each other since they met. As nice as she was, she had one hell of a fiery temper, and the amount of snarky remarks he'd received over the years was record breaking.

He'd grown used to her comments, and even gained enough courage to start firing them right back at her.

It never got physical (thank Merlin), but it was mostly sneers and scoffs while passing in corridors, maybe a glare-off from opposite ends of a classroom on occasion.

In summary, they didn’t get on well. And now they were forced to work with each other.

Joy.

….

Amit quite liked doing his nightly rounds of the school. It was silent, apart from the occasional grunt from a portrait, or a crash from the path of destruction Peeves always left. Sometimes it was a bit eerie; sometimes the silence was too loud. But, Amit enjoyed it nonetheless; peace and quiet.

He’d taken up his position outside the library, scanning the corridors of the Faculty Tower, when who should catch his eye but the Head Girl, who was leaning against a bannister and looking rather spiteful. Her pretty mouth was drawn into a bow, a brow raised.

Amit felt his blood pressure rise just a smidge.

“Oh, good,” he breathed, suddenly very tired.

“Same to you.” The girl shot back, kicking off the bannister and striding toward him. “What are you doing here?”

“I’m standing watch, as I usually do, you should know that.” Amit answered simply, gritting out the last line.

“Well, you should know that I’ve been stationed here for the week, which means you can kindly leave.” She gestured down the corridor, motioning for him to leave.

Amit decided he wasn’t going to budge. 

“I, in fact, did not know this information, which gives me the impression that you’ve just made it up.” He folded his arms and narrowed his eyes, watching the Hufflepuff put her hands on her hips.

“Then you’re not as intelligent as you say you are, princess.” She sneered, and Amit rolled his eyes; ‘princess’ had become his nickname after she saw him once in their third year shrieking like a girl while getting chased by an angry flock of Cornish Pixies. She’d hollered and laughed so hard that day she quite literally collapsed to the floor in a fit of giggles, calling him a “damsel in distress”, which only embarrassed Amit further. And thus, the name stuck.

“There was a notice sent out with the rotors this morning,” she continued, ignoring his eye roll, “clearly you’re little Ravenclaw brain didn’t pay attention.”

“If there was a rotor, I would know.” He stated firmly, uncrossing his arms and taking a step forward with clenched fists.

You’d think by now that he’d stop letting her get under his skin, but there was just something so… infuriating about her. She was always there, corridors, classrooms, Great Hall, even the Owlery, he just couldn’t get her out of his head!

Wait.

He couldn’t get rid of her. Yes, that’s what he meant. It’s not like he always thought about her…

The stars had to take up some part of his brain too!

Regardless, he glared down at her as she looked smugly up at him, and he knew she was getting a kick out of seeing him frustrated, but he didn’t look away.

(He couldn’t look away.)

“You seem to overestimate your knowledge, Thakkar,” she wound on, also taking a step forward. They were very much in each other’s personal spaces now but they didn’t seem to care, instead choosing to be quite rude to one another.

“ Please, my knowledge far exceeds yours, and you know it.” He shot back.

Their eyes bored into each other’s, and now it was a competition of will; who will look away first?

“Keep telling yourself that, princess.”

“Oh, will you shut up with that ridiculous name!” 

“Make me!”

Now, Amit couldn’t really tell you why he did what he did; maybe it was the close proximity of the pair; perhaps it was pure rage;

Perhaps she really did consume most of his thoughts.

In a fit of… (we’re not sure. Rage? Frustration? Adoration with a touch of madness?)

In a fit of adoration with a touch of madness, Amit grabbed the Hufflepuff Head Girl by the shoulders and quite literally smashed his mouth to hers. She let out a noise similar to “hmph!” before bringing her hands up to grab the sides of his robes and pushing back by standing on her tiptoes.

Their eyes were still open, and they stared at each other as they kissed, and this only made them more furious in their actions; her tongue tickled his bottom lip, making his eyelids flutter, but he granted her entry all the same. 

Her hands gripped onto his side tighter, which made him drag his own hands up her shoulders, past her neck, resting them on her jaw, pulling her closer in the process. In response, she wrapped her arms around his neck, and now they were impossibly close, joined at the mouth, licking at each other's tongues.

He couldn’t help it; he gave in; he closed his eyes first.

Now this- this was an awfully intimate thing to be doing with one's mortal enemy. But when you’re enamoured by their beauty and actually quite flattered by all the attention they give you… well, there’s your excuse. 

Footsteps echoed through the corridor.

The rate in which the pair separated was quick enough to break the sound barrier. They practically jumped apart, gasping and panting slightly, glancing around for the source of the noise.

Amit failed to notice the Hufflepuff staring alarmedly at his mouth, and was startled when she grabbed his wrist and dragged him under the staircase, pushing him against the wall and out of sight. 

“Wait, why am I hiding? I’m Head Boy.” He whispered urgently, and he noticed just how small the crevice was, and just how hard her hand was pressed against his chest; her fingers balled briefly into a fist, clutching the fabric of his robe, before drawing back.

“Well, princess, I hate to inform you that you’re absolutely covered in lipstick, and I do not want anyone getting the wrong idea.” She whispered hurriedly back, before stepping backwards in hopes of looking relatively relaxed and totally not suspicious at all.

Professor Sharp limped up the stairs, catching sight of the Head Girl and bowing his head in greeting.

“Good evening, Professor,” she said cheerfully, watching him as he pulled his way up the next flight of stairs.

“He’s in a good mood,” Amit commented briefly, sarcasm dripping from his tone, before peeling away from the wall and rushing out of the hiding place, and giving another quick scan of the corridors.

Silence. 

“Didn’t think you had it in you, Thakkar,” the Hufflepuff chuckled, pulling a handkerchief out of her robe and handing it to him. He took it and began wiping his mouth.

“I’m covered in your lipstick, please don’t call me by my last name.” He mumbled, glancing at the hankie which was, indeed, covered in pink smudges. 

“What, prefer ‘princess’?” She quipped, taking the white cloth back and holding his chin with her thumb and forefinger, wiping the last bits of makeup away. “I know I do.”

“You would, because you’re insufferable. And honestly, I didn’t know I had it in me either.”

“Then why’d you kiss me?”

“Because you told me to make you shut up. So I did. Didn’t work though…”

“Ha! Of course it didn’t, you’ve known me long enough to know that something as little as that won’t end my behaviour.”

“Then what if I did it again?”

“Ooh, Amit Thakkar, I had no idea you were such a womaniser!”

“I-I’m not! I just…”

“You just?”

“Nevermind.” Amit shook his head, feeling a flush creep up his neck.

“You just?” She repeated, tilting her head with a knowing smile that made his stomach flip. He swallowed, glancing around, eyes coming to rest on the door to the Prefect’s bathroom.

She followed his eyeline, before turning sharply back to him, a smirk plastered across her pretty face. Quick as a flash, she grabbed his hand and started pulling him toward the door.

Amit followed like a lost puppy, but paused at the door.

“Wait, we’re supposed to be on the night rounds out there.”

“You are, you were right, I was making it up.” She quipped, batting her eyelashes.

Amit gasped exasperatedly.

“You-”

He was cut off by her dragging him down and kissing him full on the mouth once more, letting the door swing shut behind them.

[bladey-ranger-301]

Cabbie: *feels sad*

Blade: *rubs against Cabbie*

Cabbie: *smiles gratefully*

More of Uncle Cabbie X3

@the-great-old-grump here’s an example when Blade chills, he simply folds his rotors back x3

[spookyspaghettisundae]

The Impossibility of It

Chloe Grant could hear the thunder of rotors through the soundproof glass on the twentieth story of Future Proof’s headquarters.

A black unmarked helicopter, landing atop the skyscraper, had captured her entire attention.

Or it happened to be a convenient distraction from the conversation at hand. An uncomfortable conversation that Grant had sought out herself, and also been dreading all the while.

“Would you rather reschedule?” asked Rebecca Chao. She couldn’t quite finish the sentence without a hint of sarcasm.

Grant chewed on her lip until she spotted Chao observing her nervous tic, then made a conscious and forced effort to stop doing that.

She peeled her gaze from the vista of Austin’s skyline. The chopper had landed, though the noise of its thundering rotors still reverberated through the panes.

“No, uh, no,” Grant stammered out, sighing in between, “Sorry. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to waste your time.”

Chao folded her hands on her lap. She stared at Grant with a perfect poker face.

“We’re not wasting any time here. Not to step on your toes, but I think you were long overdue for a session. There’s only so much mental stress our field operatives—or really anybody—can tolerate before it starts affecting their—our—private lives.”

Grant sighed again.

At this point in time, she wasn’t sure what her private life even was.

With the way reality kept shifting with each change of the timeline, her own life felt alien to her.

The corners of Chao’s lips twitched with the hint of a smile.

“Maybe you could… inspire Mister Carter to see me, too.”

Grant scoffed. Smiled fully.

That would be the day.

“I’m afraid you won’t get Carter in here unless you mandate therapy sessions for field ops.”

Chao’s lips curled and her eyes narrowed.

“Now, there’s a thought.”

Her pen clicked. The doctor scooped her notepad off the desk and scribbled down a note.

“It’s just… I know who I am, but I am not the me who this world used to know before I returned to it through the temporal Anomaly… if that makes any sense. Everybody must have gone through life knowing another me, and although our experiences should mostly match, I… I keep running into these… differences.”

“Like your intimate relationship with Miss Bennett?”

Grant only nodded in response.

“I wish we had more concrete insights into how the Anomalies and temporal disjunctions truly work. We are, together, exploring terra incognita here. A weak solace, perhaps, but in some ways, you are a pioneer.”

“Well,” Grant said, clicking her tongue, “I did sign up for it, didn’t I? I could just quit, couldn’t I?”

Chao stared at her. Instead of answering those questions, she scribbled down another note on her pad.

“I’m quite—not—I’m not quitting,” Grant stumbled over her words. “No, there’s lives at stake.”

“But your own life is a concern. There’s no shame in self-preservation. We all need to protect ourselves.”

Grant pinched the bridge of her nose. Felt a headache coming on.

This wasn’t what she hoped to hear in the session.

“Are you worried you are dissociating?” Chao asked. “I am very sorry—it must be difficult to negotiate the differences between the life you knew before the temporal shift.”

The helicopter on the rooftop had quieted. The ensuing silence in Chao’s office became almost ghostly as a consequence. Grant now almost yearned for the distraction of noise.

Chao’s question lingered in the air like a phantom, haunting Grant, floating around the back of her head.

Chao broke the silence and said, “As I was saying, this is terra incognita for all of us. You are under no obligation to perform as the Chloe Grant people expect you to be. You only owe it to yourself to be who you want to be. And if that’s more in line with the timeline you come from, then that is who you are.”

Though Grant found a shred of comfort buried within her words, she pursed her lips, and part of her instinctually rebelled against Chao’s advice.

“What are you… are you suggesting I should break up with Dan?”

Chao’s eyes widened and her brow furrowed.

“I was not suggesting any such thing, no. Not even close. I—”

The phone on Chao’s desk buzzed with obnoxious volume. An incoming message.

The doctor shot a glance down at the small device’s now-glowing screen.

Grant said, “No, it… it feels right, I think. Like it was going to happen anyway? The more I think about it, the more I can see it, or could have seen it, or whatever. Uh—”

In stark contrast to the rest of the session, it was almost like Chao hadn’t listened to a single word she said since the phone’s buzzing. The doctor just stared at the text message on her phone’s screen.

“Doctor? Am I… interrupting something?”

The furrow on Chao’s brow arched even higher. She looked up from the device to meet Grant’s gaze, then shook her head.

“No, I am sorry, I apologize. It’s… please forgive me. I should answer this.”

Chao picked up the phone and her thumbs tapped away at a reply.

Grant stifled a sigh and stared out the floor-to-ceiling windows.

The sun was setting on the horizon, painting the city in pink light.

Chao put the phone back down, then asked, “Now, where were we?”

Grant shook her head. “No, it’s… nothing. I think I’ll manage. Just talking has helped. A lot. That was Spencer, wasn’t it?”

The corners of Chao’s lips twitched again.

“Yes, but he can wait.” Her glance to the silent clock on the wall telegraphed her next statement. “We still have fifteen more minutes.”

On cue, the phone buzzed again. Chao’s gaze darted back down to it, locked onto the screen, reading the next message intently.

It was also fifteen minutes before the end of office hours.

But their unusual line of work here had a habit of sneaking up on them and saddling them with overtime. All the time.

Grant grinned through her final sigh of the day, as if she had run out of breath for it.

“Shall we?” she asked Doctor Chao.

Chao’s entire expression hardened. It had to be something serious.

She nodded at Grant.

“In fact, yes, we are both being called to join a meeting. Downstairs.”

A chill ran down Grant’s spine.

Like a premonition of terrible things to come.

They packed up and left the doctor’s office, cutting the session short. Grant wouldn’t be losing sleep over it. She hadn’t been lying or exaggerating about how the talking had helped somewhat, though she was skeptical if anybody could help her at all.

If anybody could even understand—truly understand—what all of this felt like.

The CEO, Malachi Spencer himself, had summoned Doctor Chao to the basement levels. Riding the elevator down with their top-clearance keycards, Grant learned that Spencer had summoned her, as well. She only missed the summons because she had switched her phone to airplane mode for the therapy session.

Spencer probably knew about the therapy now. There was no point in asking how Chao handled confidentiality. The normal rules didn’t really apply around here.

Future Proof tended to play fast and loose with morals and ethics.

To sleep at night, Grant told herself that this was in humanity’s best interests.

The two women exchanged no words as they marched down the long and harrowing hall through Containment’s sub-level.

Their taciturn walk delivered them into a forcibly sterile medical examination room. In deeper solemn silence, they slipped into HAZMAT suits. Donned the visored helmets. Ensured everything was sealed airtight.

White clouds enshrouded them, hissing, as they crossed through the airlock. Electronic seals beeped and clicked, and they entered the quarantined room.

Even with only the smell of plastic to meet her senses, Grant thought of rotten meat upon seeing the body on the metal examination slab.

That thing wasn’t human.

It wasn’t saurian, either. She wasn’t sure what it was, but she had seen such a thing before—

In the Crossroads of Anomalies. Chasing the man in ancient armor.

The sight of it up close stunned her so deeply that she failed to notice all the faces staring at her upon her entrance into the examination room.

The creature was only vaguely humanoid, featuring almost twice the body mass of a grown man. Its arms were longer than its legs, and all its limbs were wiry with hidden power, tipped in freakishly long fingers, and deadly claws. Mottled gray flesh reminded her of aliens from outer space, especially with the head’s strange form and toothy maw, and a metal, futuristic device crowning its skull—with wires and hooks clearly protruding from the flesh, attached to the organism’s head.

It had been riddled with bullets. A surgeon had extracted all of them.

“Doctor Chao,” said Spencer, every syllable cutting like a knife. “Agent Grant. Good of you to join us. We’re brainstorming here and all red-clearance personnel is encouraged to weigh in with any theories they can come up with.”

Grant sidled up to the autopsy table and stared into the exposed insides of the carcass’s open torso. Stretchers kept tissue peeled apart, and the organs reminded her of what one might find among a human body’s innards.

She asked, “What are we looking at here? Where did you find this… thing?”

Stantz, their PR manager, was among the people gathered around the table.

The HAZMAT suits they were all wearing made it hard to tell everybody apart, but Grant immediately recognized his smarmy tone.

“I pulled some strings. United States special forces, led by a certain Captain Dariel Rose, as you all know, took down this specimen with extreme prejudice. Unlike the wise foresight of Future Proof here, Rose and his men gunned it down, butchered it in some truck or back alley, and only handed it off to us after we, uh, twisted some screws on his thumbs.”

Grant wasn’t interested in the specifics. Especially not with Stantz’s delivery thereof. The rest of the gathering had probably already discussed it to death, anyway.

Doctor Solomon stood at the head of the autopsy table, just next to a tray harboring a scalpel and other sharp implements. He wiggled his fingers like he was antsy to cut the specimen some more.

And he said as much. “Yes. This would be the second autopsy performed on the specimen, though not by us. I appreciate the almost Victorian theatrics of having an audience.”

Doctor Burch shuffled awkwardly where she stood next to him. She stared at Stantz, expecting him to share something more about their new specimen on the table, or about the circumstances on how it ended up here.

Spencer and Stantz stood by the clawed feet of the abominable creature. Stantz’s arms stayed crossed, like he was protesting something. Meanwhile, Spencer exuded the same presence as he always did—a knife in human shape. Even wearing awkward-looking HAZMAT gear instead of his usual expensive tailored suits did little to diminish Spencer’s domineering energy.

His deathly glare swept across his employees before locking onto Solomon.

“Feel free to bring Doctor Chao and Agent Grant up to speed with your theories so far.”

Solomon shrugged and gestured in the round, urging the others to speak up.

Carter stood across from Solomon, on the opposite side of the table. He looked tired and grumpy, as usual. His gaze bounced back and forth between Grant and Mischchenko, as if he was expecting either of them to say something.

Standing right next to Burch, Mischchenko tilted her head and shot Grant furtive glances. She then cleared her throat, muffled by the HAZMAT suit, and repeated what she must have already said earlier.

“It combines physical traits of simians, felines, humans, and—this is the weird part—a shark. Note the teeth,” she said, pointing two yellow-gloved fingers at the creature’s toothy maw.

Grant leaned over the body’s head to take a closer look. Indeed, rows of teeth lined the mouth, and they looked as jagged and triangular as those of vicious, serrated sawblades.

Though the creature had no fur, she could vaguely see the resemblance to apes and wildcats both—especially with what she had seen of the creature in its living form, darting between the Crossroads’ Anomalies.

Unable to stop scanning the creature’s odd features, she asked, “Well, is that really that odd? Something from the far future could… evolve into this, on our planet. Right?”

“I said the same thing,” Mischchenko muttered with a hint of resignation. She then nodded to Burch.

Burch continued in her stead, saying, “It’s from 2,000 years into the future. I have no earthly idea how anything on our planet would evolve this fast.”

Another cold shudder shook Grant’s spine.

2,000 years into the future.

The impossibility of it arrived in waves.

“Wait,” Chao interrupted. “How do you know it’s from 2,000 years into the future?”

“Allow me to answer that,” Spencer said, cutting in. “The very Anomaly that this building was built on top of harbors a connection to that specific time. This is not the first of these specimen that we examined. Burch carbon-dated a dead one we retrieved from the future, and this predator—we dubbed it the Apex Predator—is native to that time.”

“That specimen wasn’t sporting this, though,” Solomon said, using his scalpel to tap the metal device attached to the creature’s skull.

Chao’s face twisted. She looked as insulted as Grant felt—even at their clearance level, secrets had been kept. Some people had been in the savvy about certain dealings at Future Proof, while others, like them, had been kept in the dark.

Solomon still tapped the metal device with the scalpel.

Grant jutted her jaw out at it and asked, “What the hell is that?”

Solomon shrugged.

“Some sort of bio-mechanical implant. Perhaps a cerebral augmentation, or something to control the specimen. It’s not transmitting or responding to Wi-Fi signals, however, so your guess is as good as anybody’s. Once we extract it, I’m excited to pick it apart and find out what makes it tick.”

He smiled.

Mischchenko said, “I’m more concerned about what it suggests, because it—”

Spencer cut in again. “The future of our planet looked bleak on every one of our early expeditions through the Anomalies, Agent Grant. Apocalyptic, one might say. And this implant on the specimen’s head, suffice to say, it tells us beyond a shadow of a doubt that there is someone in the future who is experimenting on these feral animals. A perplexing outlook, given that that the future is arguably unsuitable for human life.”

Early expeditions? Again, with the secrets—Grant couldn’t stop a frown from surfacing.

She asked, “Why isn’t any of this on record anywhere? Why weren’t we briefed about these… things?”

Was this why Ruiz was leaking information to Corsino and Celeva?

She glared at Spencer. The fire in his eyes matched hers, yet ever so coldly.

Carter arched a brow. He had been thinking what she said out loud. He locked onto Spencer with shades of the same burning intent.

Spencer fired back, “Everything we do is on a need-to-know basis, and now you need to know.”

Grant almost spat her words out. “As I reported in my last debrief, and described to the best of my ability, this is exactly the kind of specimen I sighted in the Crossroads. Would have been good to know about these things, you know, before they kill us. This thing, how powerful is it?”

A dark chuckle escaped Carter and he nodded at Stantz. “Bozo over here says it managed to gut three ex-Marines like fish before they took it down with a couple hundred high-caliber rounds.”

“Not how I put it,” Stantz said, “but I am neither a pedant nor do I feel like correcting the talent.”

Carter leered at him with a toothy grin. Though he stared at Stantz, his grumbling was directed at Spencer when he asked, “You rethinkin’ that no-exploring-beyond-the-Anomalies rule now, boss? Seeing as you used to send people through, all willy-nilly. Or did I misunderstand that just now?”

All he garnered was a thin-lipped smirk from Spencer. The CEO spared him no remark.

“Though my curiosity is overwhelming,” Solomon said, “curiosity, as we all know, killed the proverbial cat.”

Spencer broke eye contact with Carter to fixate on Solomon next. “You? You out of all people are now recommending against Anomaly expeditions, doctor?”

Solomon gingerly placed the scalpel back down onto the tray and shook his head.

“No, not at all. Though the consensus is—and I’m inclined to agree with Doctor Trémaux on this—that anything we do beyond the Anomalies could bear disastrous consequences for the present. Disastrous. I don’t think we can stress this enough.”

“Duly noted, doctor. The—”

“Hey,” Mischchenko interrupted them.

Everybody’s gaze followed where her index finger was pointing.

To the tiny, blinking red light on the creature’s cranial implant.

“It was doing that,” Grant said. “The one I saw in the Crossroads.”

Then it all happened so fast.

Yelled someone, “Restrain it!”

But the thrashing had already begun. All reactions followed too late to prevent disaster from unfolding in their midst.

The creature—despite its open chest cavity—began lashing out.

It was alive. So deadly, and alive.

Spindly limbs, ending in sharp claws, thrashed about. People fell, stumbled backwards, raised arms in defense, only to see the yellow-suited material on their arms get slashed to ribbons. And blood sprayed.

Blood sprayed everywhere.

Shouts of confusion and agony and panic all competed for attention, and all of them lost that competition in the explosive chaos.

The yellow of Doctor Solomon’s HAZMAT suit was splashed crimson from the chest down. The head of engineering screamed at the top of his lungs.

Before Grant could even blink twice, Carter was on top of the monstrosity, catching it by its thick neck in a powerful chokehold. His other gloved, meaty fist pried at the strange cranial implant, like he was trying to rip it off the creature’s skull by hand.

On instinct, Grant had shoved Chao out of the way, sending her flying into Stantz and Spencer, sending them all crashing into the floor like a set of human domino pieces. Lucky for them that she has acted without thinking, because clawed feet had threatened to slice their bellies open in the creature’s thrashing rage and rampage.

Carter’s swearing was cut short as something slit his throat—

It all happened so fast.

Instead of intelligible words, he emitted guttural choking while he choked out the creature, and yellow-gloved fingers, stained red, slipped from their grip on the monster’s cranial implant.

He staggered away from it, unable to hold on any longer.

Burch stumbled away with the horrifically injured Doctor Solomon, pulling him away from the specimen, while Mischchenko sprung into violent action. She yanked a heavy microscope off a nearby table, and slammed it down on the creature’s head. Two blows was all it took, cleaving the red-blinking device from the Apex Predator’s skull, to the tune of tearing flesh and cracking bone.

She ducked away before a flailing claw could eviscerate her.

The heft of her blows had torn off what Carter had been trying to rip away by hand, and the bloodied piece of mysterious tech clattered onto the floor, spraying puddles of blood and scattered brain matter. Then the tiny red light atop the device winked out. Went dead.

The Apex Predator thrashed around one final time, then its deadly body fell limp on the metal slab again.

Carter had landed on his ass, gripping his neck, and Grant was quickly upon him. She applied pressure, but it all happened so fast—the blood pumped out between her gloved fingers at an alarming rate.

His wide eyes—piercing blue eyes—stared into Grant’s. Then they stared through her as the life faded from them more and more, fading more with every pumping squirt of blood from his neck.

Though the circumstances had changed, she watched Carter die.

Again.

Not in Midland’s desert. In the basement levels of Future Proof.

And as she’d admit in her next session with Chao, she dreaded the thought that it wouldn’t be the last time she’d watch him die.

At the very least, she would see him die in her dreams.

Over and over again.

[diabolus1exmachina]

TVR Tasmin

This 1983 TVR Tasmin is a Series I convertible finished in orange metallic over tan upholstery and is powered by a Ford 2.8-liter V6 paired with a four-speed manual transmission. Features include a three-position convertible top with a removable top panel, pop-up headlights, power windows, inertia reel seatbelts, an aftermarket stereo unit, and 14″ basketweave wheels. The Oliver Winterbottom-styled fiberglass body is mounted to a tubular steel chassis designed by former Lotus engineer Ian Jones. The three-position convertible top features a removable upper roof panel along with a folding rear-window section, and additional exterior touches include a front spoiler, pop-up headlights, dual mirrors, Tasmin body graphics, and quad exhaust outlets. Silver 14″ basketweave wheels are mounted with 205/60 Federal tires, and a matching spare with a Goodyear tire is stored in the trunk. The four-wheel disc brakes feature inboard rear rotors.

[thelastpathfinder]

Posted up on the side of one of the comms towers overlooking the shipyard, you watch the ants far below you go about their business. It's the safest you've felt since returning to Cybertron. No-one noticed you fly to your perch, a fact that continues to bewilder you—you're all white and sporting a frame design that hasn't existed in millions of years, yet you seem capable of sneaking about without really trying.

You suppose you should be grateful. Someone out there wants you dead, after all, so being able to effortlessly evade detection is a blessing. Maybe you should change your name accordingly. Sneak is your first thought, one you quickly dismiss for sounding a little too, well, dishonest. And the good names are probably all already taken.

You watch a pair of jets zip past a few hundred feet below, casting distorted shadows against the clouds. There's no way for them to spot you from that angle, but just the sight of a jet in flight makes your tanks lurch with panic now. Hiding won't keep you safe forever. You lay flat on your back, your primary arms folded behind your head, and ponder your options.

There's more you can change than just your name. Glowfin had suggested a frame reformat, before the assassination attempt. You'd dismissed the idea at the time, but now you're coming to see it in a new light. This body isn't yours, after all; it was forced on you by the Initiative. It's never felt like you, just a vessel necessary to your survival. How are you supposed to fight effectively when you don't even feel connected to your own body? Not only that, but a new frame would make you harder to recognize. You'd just be changing for the sake of your survival again, only this time it would be your choice. It doesn't seem so terrible.

You turn over, restless. The sun feels pleasant on your rotors. You miss Glowfin terribly. You can't imagine she had anything to do with the assassination, but you don't want to put her in any danger by reaching out. In the Institute's custody, you were a caged animal; now you've mauled the hand that feeds, and there's no going back. You try not to think of Longwing, and the look on his face before you smashed it to pieces. His engines had let out an awful stuttering screech when you killed him. It had taken hours to scrub every last drop of his energon from your frame.

Stop it, you scold yourself wearily. What's done is done.

Lulled by the soothing warmth of the sun, you drift into a light sleep. In your dreams you're surrounded by a sea of shadowy, faceless figures; you leap amongst them, slashing and tearing with teeth and claws you do not have. You clamber up the growing pile of bodies, killing your way to the top, where there is no-one left to fight. There is only your own reflection, hands outstretched, begging you to stop.

But it was so easy, you cry, and tackle your reflection off the pile; you both tumble into a chasm, and you awake with a jolt before you can glimpse what waits at the bottom.

You've overslept. Night is fast approaching, and you feel a heavy dread in your spark that has nothing to do with the gathering darkness.

[helicrazy]

(( Slaps this down for Sunday. Enjoy you fucks

Also something for @photobombingcryptid/ @merchantsecrets <3 ))

Vortex flashes his visor toward Blaze sitting on the sofa with a data pad in his servos and his legs on top of the table, making himself at home in Vortex's place. The copter never minded, in fact, he enjoyed having company over even if Blaze was a once-in-a-blue-moon type of visit, and his apartment was the perfect place for private moments where they couldn't be disturbed.

Unlike the mansion where they habitually got caught in places they shouldn't.

But here? No one will say anything when Vortex approaches Blaze, placing himself between his legs and spreading them out as he kneels in front of him with nothing but a grin on his face.

Blaze doesn't peer away from the datapad, taking the hint, and opens up the panel to his spike while returning his attention to the screen, but before Vortex can move he lifts a digit to him. "Ah ah. Open your valve cover and play with yourself, you can jerk me off first."

Vortex scoffs but opens his valve panel and moves a servo between his legs to rub his claws against the entrance while the other grabs the spike in front of him and roughly begins to stroke it. The tip of his claws pushes into his valve as he stares hungrily at his partner's equipment, occasionally giving it a fine squeeze while he works on himself. Feeling lubricant slowly leak onto his servo already.

"Spread your legs and really get in there Texy." The outlier instructs, his vision never leaving the screen as he knows how Vortex likes to play. His spike twitches and extends in the hold, getting aroused by the second but his focus is entirely on something else.

Like getting a new universe-wide high score on a difficult game.

Vortex spreads his legs out and plunges his digits further into his valve, making him softly moan while continuing to pump the spike. Waiting so patiently for the next order even if he's on the verge of wanting to bite the throbbing equipment just inches away from his face. Blaze must have read his processor, something he's got a serious knack for, and motions Vortex to his member along with a 'go to town.'

Finally.

The teal copter leans forward, giving the spike multiple long and rough licks on each side, tasting it like a treat and letting his piercing rub against the shaft before taking it into his mouth. He laps his glossa around the tip and moves further down while thrusting his digits inside him. When he pulls away his digits follow leaving only the tips inside, keeping a steady rhythm of pleasuring Blaze and himself simultaneously.

Blaze could play the poker face game all he wants, but it's the little details Vortex notices that give away he's enjoying every second of it.

Every throb in Vortex's mouth or valve causes his rotors to twitch and make a sound. Almost like a whimper but he hides it with a grunt or moan. He loved having a mouth full of spike, savoring each moment he went down and moistening it up with lubricant, while his valve was getting close to a-

"No overloading yet."

Oh for frags sake.

The Combaticon gives the spike a nip on the head, venting with a grin after noticing the tiniest jitter from the other.

"Remove your digits and get on my lap." Blaze orders, though it's difficult for Vortex to tell whether it's a reward or a punishment.

Regardless he pulls his digits out and brings himself down on the spike one last time, cleaning it off with his glossa and squeezing it before removing it from his mouth with a pop. With a smirk, he gets up and hops onto Blaze's lap still holding his spike, aiming to place it under him but is stopped by the copter.

"No, Vortex. Not yet." Blaze states as he moves a servo to smack Vortex's hold away, not once turning away from the data pad. He grabs the Combaticon by the waist and lowers him so his valve rubs against his member, causing the teal mech to slightly growl. Blaze shushes him as he moves the tip against the folds, teasing and feeling him tremble.

Vortex places his servos on the sofa on either side of Blaze, attempting to hold himself together but the moment he feels the other enter him his overload sneaks up. He shivers as fluids drip from his valve and onto Blaze's spike, moaning in delight.

"I didn't say you could overload." The cryptid simply declares.

Vortex huffs, glaring down at his partner before he grabs the data pad and hurls it away.

Blaze stares at his empty servo and peers over to where the pad was thrown. "My high score."

"Frag your high score." The Combaticon snarls while adjusting himself to sit on the spike, craving that fill he's been aching for quite some time.

Blaze grabs him by the waist to stop him, and shifts himself off the sofa to spin Vortex around and slam him against the table. One servo grabs a rotor blade to yank him back while the other places his spike between the copter's thighs. "We are going to try this again." He snaps back as he places his legs on either side of Vortex's, preventing him from spreading his legs but separate enough for his equipment to thrust in between. "Do not overload until I give you permission." Blaze growls into the other copter's audial when leaning into him. "Do I make myself clear?"

Vortex jams his claws into the table and whimpers, both from his rotor being pulled and feeling the warm spike throbbing between his legs, just below his valve. A nod is all he gives, but he has the biggest grin on his face as Blaze begins to thrust between his legs.

He can win this game.

He won't.

[genius-built-donatello]

[Don rushes to equip his gear - he did not plan on going on the surface today, ugh - stopping to switch out his standard battle shell for the rescue shell, hoping he restocked it recently enough, before flying through the lab’s ceiling exit, scanning for Darner.

He spots them only a short distance away, shoulders tensing when he sees they’re injured. Badly, by the look of it.

He swoops down to land in front of them, touching down on the ground as his rotors fold back into his shell. They don’t have their respirator on - they must not have had time.] DARNER!

@corporal-darner

[itsuki-minamy]

RED CASE FILES: HOMRA IN LAS VEGAS

CHAPTER 10: CLASH

* List of Chapters

Translation: Naru-kun Raws: Ridia

The night breeze caressed Suoh's cheek.

There were no people on the golf course and not even one of the lights was on. With only the bright moonlight for light, Suoh walked. Through the forest, passing the fairway to reach the green place surrounded by bunkers.

A quiet space where the hustle and bustle of before seemed like a lie.

But Suoh knew that it would not last long.

From far away, multiple continuous rotor sounds rang out. Several armed helicopters belonging to the "enemy" were heading towards the golf course.

Suoh narrowed his eyes and slightly clenched his fists.

A red aura pooled there and created a ball of light. There, even if the helicopter crashed, there would be no unrelated human casualties.

Projected searchlights lit up the street and closed in on Suoh at the speed of a snake. Suoh watched the spectacle with cold eyes.

However, no attack occurred.

The searchlight illuminated the area around Suoh. No shooting or shelling.

"......?"

Suoh, who had been looking up doubtfully, noticed "it".

A huge gun was hung at the bottom of the helicopter.

The shape was clearly different from the bipedal robots that had been discarded until now. With a height of about 4 meters, a huge torso covered in thick armor, with thick arms and legs that were comparable to that. Compared to Totsuka's "Ostrich", this one would be called "Gorilla".

The cable that suspended the "gorilla" was removed and it began to fall freely.

With a heavy sound, the "gorilla" landed on the street. The impact of the fall caused the grass to rise and the earth to erupt. Behind the clouds of dust, the eye camera was looking at Suoh with a flickering red light.

"Fu, fufufufu, fufufufufufufufufufufu!"

The "gorilla" approached Suoh with heavy footsteps as he laughed out loud.

"Hey, hey, hey! It's been a long time, Suoh, the "Red King"! Do you remember me?!"

Suoh tilted his head. He didn't remember the voice. But the other side seemed to know him. Using logic instead of memory, Suoh replied.

"Are you Mizuchi?"

"Oh, my god! It's an honor to have been remembered by the "King"! I see... So, do you remember "him"?"

As he said that, the 'gorilla' made a gesture of opening his arms. It was an action like introducing himself, but Suoh responded with amazement.

"I don't know."

"Ay, ay! How ruthless! The 'King' doesn't remember anything about the lower class! I don't think so, Suoh Mikoto, after all, he is..."

Then Mizuchi cut off his words and muttered.

"Because he is the man whose life you took with your own hands."

"......"

Suoh blinked and dug up the memory of him.

He certainly remembered the people he killed with his bare hands. In regards to the Mizuchi incident, there was only one person.

Suoh said that name.

"Senkouki, huh?"

The "gorilla" dropped his arms and landed on the ground like a real ape. He stretched out his wild neck as hard as he could and brought his face closer to Suoh.

The "gorilla" face made a mechanical noise and slowly opened to the left and right.

"Yes. The man you killed. My friend, Senkouki. He is the "Mark II"."

A lone man was enshrined behind his face covered in armor and electronics. He burrowed into a narrow seat and gripped the control stick with both hands.

The man also had half of his face turned into a machine. The cameras of the three eyes looked at Suoh at once with a chirp.

"This is a battle for revenge, Suoh Mikoto. At the same time, it is also a battle for humanity's innovation. If the supernatural weapons I have developed, the most powerful of them, the "Perforator Mark II", can defeat you, we will be freed from the yoke of the "King", and we will finally be able to face the threat of the "Slate"!"

"......"

The "gorilla" face shield closed again. While standing, "Perforator Mark II" folded both arms to show the strength of it.

"So, let me kill you, Suoh Mikoto! For humanity! My friend, "Perforator Mark II"!

Suoh casually hit his stomach with his fist.

"Uoooooooooh?!"

With Mizuchi's scream resounding, the giant 10-ton body flipped backwards, rolled over, and fell to its knees. Pushing the manipulators of both hands towards the street, Mizuchi loudly condemned.

"What are you doing?! I was still in the middle of speaking though!"

"You're crazy."

Muttering in amazement, Suoh began to walk. He slowly moved closer to him while engulfing both his fists in a red aura.

Mizuchi was crazy. In just a few words of conversation, he got it right. If so, he didn't want to hear any more. Get rid of that big bastard and quickly join his friends. That was the basic route.

On the other hand, the "Perforator Mark II" emitted a red light from the eye chamber on him and he laughed fearlessly.

"Fufufu, that's fine! A surprise attack is also a way to fight! Then... let's go too!"

The thick armor that covered both shoulders immediately came loose. Missile pods arranged in a honeycomb pattern were exposed, and he fired countless missiles at Suoh without even taking a moment to breathe.

"Uh...!"

As expected, Suoh took a deep breath and avoided it by jumping sideways. However, the swarm of missiles that had cleared the empty space turned sharply as he raised jet flames, chasing Suoh everywhere.

Suoh shot the aura that covered his fists like a double shotgun. The missiles collided with the aura shots, turning into countless fireballs and lighting up the darkness of the night. Being exposed to the heat and shock wave, Suoh instinctively raised his hand.

"Perforator Mark II" was waiting there.

"Suoh Mikoto!"

A powerful punch was fired from the fist held at his waist.

Suoh defended himself with folded arms against the pressure equal to the full power of the heavy machinery. A normal person would have been stung in an instant, and his heels dug into the grass.

At the same time, the fist of "Perforator Mark II" slid from left to right.

"Did you forget... the origin of the name "Perforator Machine"?!"

Behind the sliding fist, a "stake" flew out at explosive speed from the open cylinder.

He couldn't take it. Suoh's body flew out like a cannonball, jumping horizontally across the green, crashing into a tree, and finally coming to a stop.

Beneath the violently swaying branches and leaves, Suoh lowered his arms.

The blood that dripped from his arm fell onto the grass.

Both handlers hit the ground violently and the "Perforator Mark II" let out a whoop of joy.

"I see! This is good news! The extraordinary alloy created with the "Gold" power seems to work for the "King" as well! Well, this will be excellent data! We can take another step forward!"

Whether he heard that voice or not, Suoh also stepped forward.

"...Interesting."

A fierce smile appeared on Suoh's lips.

When he finds a suitable prey for himself, when he learns that it's okay to go on a rampage without holding back, he grins like a beast. Grasping his bloody hand, Suoh balled his fists in front of his chest.

Above, the red "Sword of Damocles" appeared in the Las Vegas night sky.

++++++++++

The VIP room of the "Pyramid Hotel" is about 200 meters high and about 300 meters long. According to the Pythagorean theorem, the hypotenuse is given by the square root of the sum of the height squared and the length squared, so the length of the slope they will slide down is...

"Hyaho...!"

Interrupted by Akagi's shrill laughter, Tanaka tried to look at him in frustration. However, Tanaka found it difficult to imagine a human gliding at high speed, so he clung tightly to the mattress his body rested on, barely suppressing his screams of fear.

Currently, Tanaka and the "Homura" members are sliding down the "Pyramid" wall at high speed.

For Tanaka, who was afraid of heights, it was nothing more than torture. Even so, it was the only way to escape the siege of supernatural weapons. They smashed everything in the room and used it as a makeshift sled. Akagi with the remains of the "Ostrich", Dewa with the closet door, Fujishima with the bathroom bathtub, Totsuka and Tanaka climbed on the mattresses and embarked on that terrifying journey.

The strong wind, the landscape that seemed to disappear, the feeling that even the soul was being pulled by gravity. All those things were about to shake something in the center of Tanaka. While biting his lip and desperately suppressing the erupting screams, Totsuka, who was sitting in front of him, suddenly turned around.

"Tanaka-san, are you alright?!"

Being able to care for others in that situation was a big problem. Tanaka parted his trembling lips and tried to reply.

"There!"

Multiple "discs" appeared as if they were clinging to everyone who was sliding down. It was an "attack type" equipped with guns on the bottom. He was aiming at Totsuka's head.

Totsuka immediately kicked the wall.

The mattress changed its trajectory while spinning, and 0.5 seconds later the "disc" fired a volley. Countless bullet holes were carved into the walls of the hotel, and in an instant they were receding far behind.

"Gah...!"

Tanaka pointed his shining golden arm at the "disc" that was trying to follow them and used the "fixed coordinate zero point". The "disc" stopped for a moment, during which the mattress slid down at high speed. If Tanaka doesn't stay on the same coordinates, "coordinate lock" won't work, but if he wants to escape, it is enough to just stop for a moment.

An "ostrich" fell in front of Tanaka and the others.

"Uoooooooooooh?!"

While shouting involuntarily, Tanaka tried to change direction like Totsuka did. They were screwed. The "ostrich" landed on a slope less than 10 meters away, and the mattress crashed into the "ostrich" without time to take countermeasures.

Totsuka and Tanaka's bodies flew into the air.

Tanaka barely looked down into his swirling field of vision. The city lights were spreading. The altitude was still over 50 meters. The fact that he was in such a place without any help would make him lose his soul, but something inside Tanaka held his soul together.

Responsibility and pride.

In order to protect the peace and prosperity of this world, he turned into a "rabbit".

Tanaka waved his arms. Dwelling there was the golden aura of "Tokijikuin". He fixed his body and Totsuka's body in the air by "fixing coordinates"... As long as the coordinates themselves are fixed, the "fixing coordinates" will remain effective.

Tanaka slowly lowered Totsuka's body which was left in the air.

Totsuka looked at Tanaka with a surprised expression, then yelled.

"Tanaka-san! Up!"

Of course, it goes without saying that Tanaka took notice.

An almost silent rotor sound was spinning over his head. Without even looking at it, the mouth of the "disc" was pointing at him.

But Tanaka didn't do anything, he couldn't do anything. "Coordinate lock" uses both arms. He used one for Totsuka and the other for himself. If any of them break free, Tanaka's purpose could not be achieved at that time. The purpose is not to let the "Red King" go crazy.

Even if he dies, Suoh won't lose control. Because Tanaka is not his comrade. Tanaka's goal was to protect the "Homura" members, including Totsuka, and the survival of him and the "Tokijikuin" agents was not included from the start.

Tanaka covered his head with his golden arm. Even if he penetrated the probabilistic deflection field, it didn't matter as long as he didn't die instantly. There were 10 seconds left for Totsuka to hit the ground. As long as he held him for that moment, he would be fine.

There was a faint hammering mixed with the sound of the rotor. Bracing himself for the impact, Tanaka held his breath and tensed every muscle in him.

A shot rang out.

The "disc" went flying as if struck by an invisible hammer.

"......?!"

Unexpectedly, Tanaka looked at the falling "disc" while holding his breath. Furthermore, the shooting continued, and several "discs" floating around were blown up while scattering fragments.

Support for "Homura"... no. They would have already reached the surface by sliding down the slopes of the "Pyramid". It wasn't even a backup of "Tokijikuin". This was clearly a long-range sniper. There are no such firearms in the American branch of "Tokijikuin".

Then who...?

Totsuka landed on the ground. Tanaka then lowered his own body as well. Meanwhile, he was toying with the question.

++++++++++

Seeing the glowing red "Sword of Damocles", Yata's eyes widened.

"Mikoto-san?"

The "Sword of Damocles". A supernatural sword that appears when the "King" uses all of his power. There are only a handful of instances where Suoh the "Red King" has gone all out, so even Yata, a veteran "Homura" member, has only seen it a few times.

It was showing up.

That meant that the person Suoh had to do his best with had appeared.

"Shit!"

Yata tried to run in the direction where the "Sword of Damocles" was floating. If there was a powerful enemy in front of Suoh, Yata's role was to charge him.

However, his run was blocked by the rising flames.

"Ha."

It was Ed.

Flames shot out from the tip of the torn arm. Stronger and longer than ever, the flames engulfed the dying arm and began to cover everything.

"Hahahahahahahahahahahaha!"

His arms on fire writhing, Ed laughed. Just like Yata, his dazzling gaze turned to the "Sword of Damocles" that was floating in the distant sky.

"What the hell is that...? Are you saying that he is a "King"? Are you saying that he is the "successor" of Genji Kagutsu?! I won't admit it! I won't forgive him!"

Mixing seething anger with laughter, Ed casually stepped forward.

Yata had an intuition.

What he should do is not go towards Suoh. He must not let this dangerous clansman guy get to Suoh.

"Ed!"

Screaming, Yata ran at Ed's back. A blow from behind to the defenseless neck. He was supposed to be able to suppress it.

Yata took a heavy hit to his side and was blown sideways.

"Gah...?!"

Going on stage, Yata endured the pain. It was an unexpected blow. Not from Ed. And besides him and Ed, there was only one person in that place.

Fushimi Saruhiko.

"You... Monkey, what are you doing...?!"

Fushimi did not reply. With the leg that kicked Yata, he coldly looked at Ed.

With one flaming arm dangling, Ed slowly descended from the stage into the fountain. His palm touched the water and steam rose as he made a loud noise. A billowing column of smoke was trying to hide his back from him.

Yata stood up as if he was rejected by him. When he tried to chase Ed, he was clearly blocked by a saber.

"That is all."

Yata looked at Fushimi as if there was no such thing as a saber pressed against his throat.

"What do you mean?"

"What do you mean? Didn't you hear what I said? From start to finish, I'm going to do my job."

Fushimi said that coldly and let cold steel bite into Yata's throat.

"My job is to protect you, I'm sick of that."

"What...?"

"What we're worried about is that all of you die and Suoh Mikoto gets out of control. If that happens, there will be international problems, and in the worst case, Las Vegas will turn into one big hole. We just have to avoid that."

Yata hit the stage with his fist and cried out desperately.

"That's why I'm going to stop him! To protect Mikoto-san, you were also helping, weren't you, Saruhiko?!"

"Hey, are you serious?"

Fushimi sneered and Yata gritted his teeth.

"The clansman protects the "King"? There is no way you can do that. In the first place, no matter how dangerous he is, he is not an enemy to Suoh Mikoto. There is nothing a clansman can do for a "King"... Misaki."

What Yata had been chewing on was his own stupidity.

That kind. He was an idiot for believing Fushimi Saruhiko even a little. Yata knew better than anyone who that guy was.

Fushimi was the worst traitor.

He was definitely not on his side.

"...I understand, Monkey."

Yata grabbed the saber from his throat. A red aura spread across the steel as if it were on fire. Fushimi had drawn his saber before he could hear it.

"You are my enemy!"

A fiery fist cut through the place where Fushimi should have been just now. Fushimi, who landed, smiled as he saw the tail of the flame disappear into thin air.

"Oh, yes. Did you notice now, Misaki?"

Yata did not reply. That guy was another enemy of "Homura". He didn't have a word to speak to a guy like that.

Defeat that guy and go after Ed. That was his new purpose.

With that in mind, Yata swung his fist at him. He smashed into the saber, sending up red and blue sparks.

++++++++++

A funeral procession was advancing through the desert.

Slowly. A group in black suits were walking towards the horizon. Past the mist of flickering heat, toward the black figure that seemed to disappear at any moment, Ed gasped.

"Wait, me too...!"

Without voice. It was the same, but now Ed could move.

Tears welled up in both eyes, but a smile appeared on his lips. Joy filled Ed.

Finally, he could reach them. He arrived quite late, but he could get killed for that. Even so, he could go back to "Purgatory".

Ed ran into the crowd of departing men in black. With one arm missing and his entire body covered in blood, Ed didn't stop. He had survived until now only to catch up with them.

"I'll be there soon, so don't leave me!"

With tears, blood, and a voiceless scream, Ed just ran.

After a penetrating impact, gravity disappeared.

Ed's body flew 10 feet into the air and crashed to the asphalt.

Blinking several times, Ed craned his neck and looked up at the night sky. The giant sword that was floating in Las Vegas didn't get any closer. Vegas is big. It was impossible to walk.

Then Ed raised his upper body.

"Are you okay?! You?!"

An old man got out of the car and ran towards Ed. The bumper was slightly dented. So, apparently he was run over by him.

Ed smiled a little. There was no anger at being run over. It was his fault for being careless.

"Hahaha... it's okay, it's okay. It doesn't hurt at all."

Ed slowly got to his feet. The man had a puzzled look on his face, but still he didn't try to escape. Normally you wouldn't want to get involved with someone who's covered in blood and missing an arm. However, out of a sense of responsibility for running over him, he couldn't turn his back on him.

He thought that he was a good person. He couldn't bear to kill him.

But now he needed his legs.

"I am sorry."

Ed's left arm snaked out and grabbed the man's neck. Ed squinted at the drowning man and manifested his right arm of fire. He raised a clenched fist.

"Ed!"

He spun around at the cry.

Maria was there. She got out of her truck and ran towards him. With a beautiful face mixed with concern and joy at the reunion, there were even tears in her black eyes.

Ed looked at the man.

The man was also crying. That was out of pain and fear. Over and over, she looked at the flaming fist and Ed's face.

He didn't need two legs.

"Haha, that's good, man."

Ed caught his breath and laughed, releasing the man. The man shoved his butt into place, gasped several times, and crawled away from him.

With her running momentum, Maria hugged Ed. Hot tears wet Ed's chest.

"I'm glad...! There's no one here, and I can't contact Diego or Alan, so I thought something might have happened to you, so...!"

"Maria. Drive."

"Eh...?"

Ed began to walk, dragging his body. He opened the passenger seat of the truck and got in. While she was puzzled, Maria got into the driver's seat as he told her to. Then, as if she finally noticed it, she took a deep breath.

"Ed, that arm...?!"

"Ah. This is fine. Further on. Please drive in that direction."

With his left arm, Ed pointed to the side where the "Red King's" Sword of Damocles was floating. Maria wrapped his finger in a trembling hand.

"You're not fine, right?! Besides, you have to go to the hospital."

Ed grabbed Maria's head and slammed it against the driver's side window glass.

"I'll say it just one more time. Drive there. Or I'll kill you and drive. It's hard to do it with one arm, but you can't help it, right?"

Speaking in a soft voice, Maria nodded repeatedly as she continued to be pressed against the window glass.

Satisfied, Ed nodded and leaned back in the passenger seat. Maria is a good girl. Good and obedient. She didn't want to die if it was possible.

The truck began to run at a smooth speed. Ed dreamily gazed at the "Sword of Damocles" floating in the distance for a while, but before long he closed his eyes and began to rest momentarily.