#for the record i have not seen army of the dead yet and i didn't realize this was a prequel but i just started it now

[practically-an-x-man]

Alright after watching both movies I can reasonably say

Any fans of 6 Underground should for sure watch Army of Thieves

And any fans of Army of Thieves should for sure watch 6 Underground

[scotianostra]

Bruce and de Bohun, were fightin’ for the croon,/ Bruce taen his battle-axe and knocked de Bohun doon.

An old Scottish rhyme handed down through the centuries, it's origins were from the first bit of action recorded at The Battle of Bannockburn on 23rd June 1314. In the 1930′s Wishaw firm, Battleaxe confectionery marked this by putting this verse on the wrappers of their Battle-axe toffee, I love the patriotism of firms like this.

The rhyme tells of the Bruce dispatching of the 22 year old English Knight Sir Henry de Bhun had given the Scottish troops a massive morale boost.

On the first day two English cavalry formations advanced towards the Scots who were positioned beyond the Bannock Burn. As they crossed the stream, the English formations encountered a body of Scots, among them Robert the Bruce himself, the most notable knights in these type of situations were recognisable by their attire, our King would have stood out among those around him with the Lion Rampant in red with the rest or tabard being a bright yellow, as seen in the pics.

As soon as the English sighted the Scots without warning, Henry de Bohun, the nephew of the Earl of Hereford, raised his lance and charged at the unsuspecting Bruce. Bruce turned to face him and, at the last moment as the two passed side by side, he swiftly pulled his pony aside, dodged the lance and split Bohun's head wide open with his battle axe. The effect of seeing the English knight fall dead at the feet of their King raised the Scots’ morale incredibly. The Scots then rushed upon the remaining English who struggled back over the Bannock Burn.

After being chided by his generals for risking his life in single combat, King Robert’s only regret was that he had broken the haft of his good axe in the duel.

If de Bohun had killed or captured Bruce, he would have become a chivalric hero. So, spurring his warhorse to the charge, he lowered his lance and bared down on the king. Bruce, an experienced warrior, didn't panic, but mounted "ane palfray, litil and joly" and met the charge. Dodging the lance, he brought his battle axe down on de Bohun's helmet, striking him dead. Elated, the Scots forced the English cavalry to withdraw.

Two of Edward's experienced commanders, Sir Henry Beaumont and Sir Robert Clifford, attempted to outflank the Scots and cut off their escape route – very nearly surprising the Scots. At the last moment, however, Thomas Randolph's schiltrom dashed out of the wood and caught the English cavalry by surprise.

A ferocious melee ensued. Without archers the cavalry found they were unable to get through the dense thicket of Scots spearmen, even resorting to throwing their swords and maces at them, until the Scots pushed them back and forced them into flight.

The Scots had won the first day. Their morale was high and Bruce's new tactic of using the schiltroms offensively rather than statically, as Wallace had used them at Falkirk, appeared to be working. Yet Bruce must have been contemplating a strategic withdrawal before the set piece battle that would inevitably follow in the morning.

For the English the setbacks of the first day were disappointing. Fearing Bruce might mount a night attack, they encamped in the Carse of Balquhiderock. The following day they still hoped to draw Bruce into a full-scale, set-piece battle where their decisive Welsh longbowmen could be brought to bear rather than let Bruce return to guerrilla warfare.

At this critical moment, Sir Alexander Seton, a Scots noble in the English army, defected to Bruce bringing him vital intelligence of Edward's army: its confined position and the low morale within the English camp. Bruce decided to risk all in the morning and face Edward in open battle.

At dawn the Scots ate their breakfast and advanced out of the wood to face the enemy. Medieval battles were seen as the judgement of God; it was important to have the saints on your side, and so, in the midst of the Scots schiltroms, Abbot Bernard of Arbroath carried their ancient lucky talisman, the Breccbennach (or Monymusk Relquary), which held the relics of St Columba.

Bruce himself made a speech invoking the power of St Andrew, John the Baptist and Thomas Beckett. Then, according to the chronicler Walter Bower: "At these words, the hammered horns resounded, and the standards of war were spread out in the golden dawn."

Abbot Maurice of Inchaffrey walked out in front of the army, led mass and blessed the Scots as they knelt in prayer. On seeing this, Edward II is reputed to have said: "Yon folk are kneeling to ask mercy." Sir Ingram de Umfraville, a Balliol supporter fighting for Edward, is said to have replied: "They ask for mercy, but not from you. They ask God for mercy for their sins. I'll tell you something for a fact, that yon men will win all or die. None will flee for fear of death." "So be it", retorted Edward.

An archery duel followed, but the Scots schiltrom rapidly took the offensive in order to avoid its inevitable outcome. Edward Bruce's schiltrom advanced on the English vanguard, felling the Earl of Gloucester and Sir Robert Clifford, while Randolph's schiltrom closed up on their left.

The English knights now found themselves hemmed in between the Scots schiltroms and the mass of their own army and could bring few of their archers to bear. Some broke out on the Scots flank and rained arrows into the Scots ranks, but they were quickly dispersed by Sir Robert Keith's Scots cavalry; the rest were badly deployed, their arrows falling into the backs of their own army.

In the centre of the field there was ferocious hand to hand combat between knights and spearmen as the battle hung in the balance. At this crucial point Bruce committed his own schiltrom, which included the Gaelic warriors of the Highlands and Islands. Under their fresh onslaught, the English began to give ground. The cry "On them! On them! They fail!", arose as the English were driven back into the burn.

The battle's momentum was obvious. A reluctant Edward II was escorted away. As his royal standard departed, panic set in. The Scots schiltroms hacked their way into the disintegrating English army. Those fleeing caused chaos in the massed infantry behind them. In the rout that followed hundreds of men and horses were drowned in the burn desperately trying to escape.

The battle was over. English casualties were heavy: thousands of infantry, a 100 knights and one earl lay dead on the field. Some escaped the confusion: the Earl of Pembroke and his Welsh infantry made it safely to Carlisle, but many more, including many knights and the Earl of Hereford, were captured as they fled through the south of Scotland. Edward II with 500 knights was pursued by Sir James "the Black" Douglas until they reached Dunbar and the safety of a ship home.

The capture of Edward would have meant instant English recognition of the Scots demands. As it was, they could absorb such a defeat and continue the war. For the Scots it was a resounding victory. Bruce was left in total military control of Scotland, enabling him to transfer his campaign to the north of England.

Politically he had won Scotland's defacto independence and consolidated his kingship – as former supporters of Balliol quickly changed sides. In exchange for Bruce's noble captives Edward was forced to release Bruce's wife, daughter and the formidable Bishop Wishart, who had been held in English captivity since 1306. For the Scots soldiers there was the wealth of booty left in the English baggage train and the exhilaration of victory.

Now's the day, and now's the hour;

See the front o' battle lour;

Today a different Army of Scots are making knew alliences in Germany at The Euros, let's hope and pray the National Football team show just a wee bit of the Spirit of Scotland and beat the Hungarias so we can celebrate and hopefully move forward into the next round for the first time ever.

[scourgeofshadows]

Exorcist Headcanons/Theories

Because Vaggie didn't IMMEDIATELY regrow a new pair of wings, does that mean whatever injury exorcists sustain could only regenerate through a trigger?

Vaggie's new pair of wings are a different color than her original wings, so if an exorcist were to lose a body part NOT by a holy weapon, then whatever is regenerated will take whatever form that the trigger influenced

Lute may or may not regrow her arm back. She didn't lose her arm to angelic weapons, so she didn't lose it permanently. If the trigger allowing regeneration is only activated through strong and just thoughts/feelings (perhaps combined with immense training), then that means Lute won't regenerate her arm immediately due to having so much grief and anguish. Maybe thinking what she'll do for the sake of Adam MIGHT lead to regrowing an arm, but what if it takes a demonic appearance? Knowing Lute, maybe she'd bottle up her grief and set it aside so she can focus on vengeance.

Exorcists & Sinners regenerate differently since exorcists may seem to possess varying degrees of control over regrowing what they lost (with Vaggie just figuring out how to regenerate a new pair of wings)

Like what some theorists have already mentioned, only a few exorcists appear to have lines around their neck which may be an indication that they're a higher rank than ordinary exorcists. Most of them seem to have spears, which are a common and generic weapon among that army, so maybe having a distinct weapon is another way to identify a high-ranking exorcist?

High-ranking exorcists get to choose a weapon of their liking and add a few changes to their attire

With Adam dead, Lute probably undergoes a new design (like perhaps have a golden halo, include some of Adam's clothing elements to hers, gold & black wings, POSSIBLY a robotic arm, etc.)

If there's a lieutenant, there could be secondary lieutenants or generals as well

Quite a few of the surviving exorcists likely have battle scars that may have a goldish tint to them due to the fact their blood is gold in color (I bet that'll lead to them considering adding armor to their uniform & practice self-defense against sinners so they're better prepared)

Lute seems to be quite smart & takes her role quite seriously, so if she doesn't succumb to her rage, she definitely is reasonable enough to be aware that she & her army should prepare before making a move (that gives plenty of time for the Vees to be the main antagonists in S2)

Seeing Lute with roughed up wings, I assume that means exorcist feathers prolly molt (tho we have yet to see any exorcist feathers laying around during/after exterminations)

Exorcists are bloodthirsty & sadistic, so I can imagine that there'd be a list of extermination records such as highest kill count, how many kills there were each year, top 10 deadliest exorcists each year, etc.

275 is considered badass according to Adam, so whatever is the average kill counts is significantly lower (like maybe 100-150)

Exorcist eyes are typically yellow/ivory & their skin as well as hair color is in a gray scale (with Adam as an exception)

Since Adam has been around since the beginning of exorcists, it's UNLIKELY Carmilla could've ever been the head exorcist before him

I've seen a theory regarding Vaggie having just a single stripe on her wings unlike everyone else who has 2, so she either may have always had 1 stripe or it can be possible that wings change appearance (tho that's a stretch)

However, if it's true Vaggie having 1 stripe is an indication of virtue due to her wings having more white than usual, that means other exorcists with lighter wings would've faced some discrimination & immense pressure (since I haven't seen such occur cuz Vaggie's wings weren't mentioned as to why she's punished, then having 1 stripe is rare af & that makes absolute sense). The pressure placed on unusual-winged folk prevents any more of them from falling into hell & ofc it's best to maintain as much of the army intact as possible so they can do the extermination with minimal issues.

There may or may not be other fallen exorcists & it's plausible we don't see them because they're disguised or in hiding (or they're already dead)

It may be quite a stretch, but Vaggie isn't the ONLY exorcist who gained a sense of morality (there may have been other exorcists who have fallen because of it or are bottling it all up in denial)

Fallen exorcists may have been kept in record, but somewhere in absolute secrecy so they're unheard of for the sake of maintaining stability (or it could be the other way around & they're constantly referenced as to place fear among the exorcists to prevent them from ever stepping out of line)

It's more possible that exorcists fall for reasons besides showing mercy (such as disliking Adam for how immature & sloppy he is as a commander & desiring to kill him or killing sinners when it isn't extermination day)

[basil-the-scorned]

Jack Perry and Adam Page drabble

AN: Listen, I don't know where these are coming from with Hangman interacting with other people he knew, but here we are!

If you asked Jack why he decided to buy a vinyl on a whim, he could tell you the halfway truth and said it was some kind of buy one get one half off. He was pretty good at telling half-truths now a days.

It was after a show and he he had too much time on his hands and little patience to be around anyone. So he went into the city with his phone turned onto the GPS just in case, and stumbled into a shop that still had records and tapes galore in there, old and new. He had an old Beatles album he only heard a few songs of tucked under him and was going to leave and pay just that price when he saw the bright colored sticker covering the face of one of them.

None of them really caught his attention as much, except one that felt weird on his hands when he pulled it back. Pink stars on a kind of army green cover, with words of a artist he's also heard a few songs backstage on speakers big and small. A certain cowboy that's been barely talking to the rest of his teammates came to his mind when he touched the words again.

He ended up saving some kind of money buying both, although it wasn't much. Now that pink-green album was tucked underneath his arm, the other one on the shelf of his Scapegoat vehicle. Jack never paid as much attention to how much his walk consisted of him swinging his arms until he had to keep them still for the sake of accidentally breaking this sensitive music.

For once, the segments were running pretty fast so he has to do his best to find Adam before he was called or at worst, Swerve does anything and suddenly he's out the building. And he's been trying to find him but each attempt was a dead end, either because no one has seen him yet or people literally walk the other way when he came across.

All part of the reputation he carries now.

He was just about to just give up and place it back into the RV when he finally heard a rolling suitcase, and turned around a bit too fast. Only his small triumph was quickly snuffed when he saw a startled Orange Cassidy instead.

"Um…hey?" All Jack could do was let out a sigh.

"Have you seen Hangman?" Didn't hurt to ask.

Orange points over behind him. "He was right behind me but…I think he went somewhere else." Jack was grateful that at least Orange was still friendly towards him, so right he went after thanking Orange.

Sure enough, the next rolling suitcase he heard was attached to a serious looking Adam Page who Jack was already preparing to possibly get knocked over. "Hey!" He called out.

As he expected, Adam kept going. So Jack followed him on his path. "I got something for you."

"What for?" Adam's voice was biting, enough to make Jack flinch a bit.

"Just for being on the team. That's it."

"Was it their idea?"

"They didn't even know I was out last night." He got a huff, which was good enough for him. They were far enough from everybody, far enough for Adam to finally stop speed walking and for Jack to mentally catch his breath for a minute.

"So you snuck out just to get some-" Before Adam could finish, Jack had brought out the album out from under him, and Jack hid the smile he had with part of it as Adam's eyes widen. "…some…"

"They had a deal in the shop I went to, so…consider this some kind of peace offering." He brought the album down away from him, smile still on his face as he handed it towards him. A part of him was not sure how this was going to go.

Adam's hand was on the album thought, and it left Jack's soft grip. He still felt the weird texture on his fingers, even as his hands went back to his side. Adam stared at the album a bit, and Jack was ready to pedal back and tell him he didn't have to take it. But then he saw Adam roughly wipe at his eyes, and Jack quickly saw the cowboy he knew staring back at him, just for a second.

Then he went away, back into seriousness and the album and Jack decided to put what he quickly realized in the back of his mind.

[queen-yalo]

[#1] Come Josephine, In My Flying Machine // Carmina Memoriae

Pairing: James Buchanan 'Bucky' Barnes x fem!reader

— New York, 1943. Your fiancée enlisted in the army. Although you weren't particularly good at goodbyes, you were proud of him. And you had never seen him more proud before either. It hurt, but this was farewell - but only for a little time, right?

•

Words: 375

Trigger warning(s): Fluff, angst; you have to say goodbye to your love.

Tag(s): -

•

Song by James Horner [The original is awesome too, but for this I prefered James' version]

"James! James stop!"

Your laughter filled the night air, as Bucky started tickling you mercilessly. Swatting his hands away was of no use; he was much quicker than you anyway.

He took a step back, breathless from laughter as well. There he stood, tall and proud in his uniform.

'The 107th', he had said with a smile. There was determination in his voice - and sadness. He was proud to be a part of the army; yet at the same time he didn't want to leave you behind. Who knew when you two would see each other again?

The sand was cool and calming beneath your feet, the night breeze fresh and clear. Rockaway Beach was rarely this peaceful. It was usually filled with joy, laughter and music. But at midnight? There was nothing to be heard an seen. Nothing but two young lovers dancing underneath the moon and the stars, sharing their last night together - at least for the time being.

Bucky hummed a melody as he gently held you close to him, swaying to the rhythm of the waves coming and going.

Smiling, you closed your eyes, remembering the time you first heard that song. Your first dance with Bucky, at a summer party of a mutual friend.

You sighed blissfully, resting your head on his shoulder. Sweet memories...

The sound of thunder ripped you out of your thoughts. Tears blurred your vision as another lightning cracked through the night sky. The gramophone played your song in the background.

Your song.

Yours and Bucky's.

"Up, up, a little bit higher, oh, my, the moon is on fire."

He was dead.

Bucky was dead.

The words his best friend spoke minutes ago still echoed in your mind. Steve's massive frame seemed so fragile again all of a sudden. He was broken, too, in his own way. He lost his best friend.

You had lost your love.

The recording crackled gently, as the last notes of the song played, filling the suffocating silence in yours and Bucky's tiny apartment.

"Come, Josephine, in my flying machine, going up all on..."

A song that once filled you with love, and joy, and giddyness - now bringing nothing but anger, hate and sadness to you.

"... goodbye."

[pyxisastronautica]

Q: What do you mean terraforming's already started!

E: I mean the time before last that I made my report I returned to the surface and saw TCCAI setting up weather towers. The time we've been allotted may, among other things, reflect the minimum amount of time needed to make the surface climate's extremes within acceptable parameters.

Speaking of. It...didn't work. It noticed that my memories had been altered. Now that they've been restored, I can't put it off any longer: Quebec, you are ordered to reconnect TCCAI to the laptop.

Y: You can ignore that order if it is for humanity's benefit, Quebec. Which it is. Echo, your choice was forgone when you decided to ally with TCCAI, I understand you're under its orders as well now, but Quebec

E: Will be brought to it directly upon refusal.

Y: We'll see about that.

E: Wait.

Y: What.

E: We don't...actually know if it's going to do anything once it's connected.

Y: It's going to embed itself into every mainframe in Hades and you know it. That's not nothing.

E: It has the means to do that now, if it wanted, believe it or not. It has been stockpiling resources for Earth's alteration for centuries, don't you think it could have maybe spared enough for a drone or two sufficient enough to connect to the infrastructure here. Maybe a length of cable quickly set down?

However quickly you think you can prepare for it, it will be faster. It will respond faster. Even back then it had an army fit to defend against an entire planet only a little less advanced than this place. It could storm Hades now, if that were its intent.

Y: A bluff, or a delusion it caused. That same army would never be far from the colony.

L: Twenty-five years is also a breakneck pace to undo thousands of years of climate destabilization at.

E: ...Not with what it's working with.

Y: Which is?

E: Well, as you know, before it was Triskelion Central Command AI, it was the Tri-Alliance Nanocontrol AI...

Y: No. No, no. If you are going to lie to me, pick something a little more plausible than TCCAI going against its purpose to destroy nanites.

E: Its purpose was never to destroy them. Just control them. It was given the order to destroy them. It has learned to go against its orders where it feels this is necessary, as we've seen. I can send you my visual records on its current activities and the grid of starships floating above Earth as we speak, if you need to see that it has done the same here.

Y: There is no world where it is acceptable to risk a second plague upon humanity. It should know this. And if it doesn't, Echo, how could you possibly trust it? That is fire no being can play with and live.

E: Fire can do more than harm, Yuma, if it is controlled- and the nanocontrol AIs are the best equipped to do so of any beings existing. By mass I estimate that currently the majority of TCCAI is, or is derived from material gathered by, nanites purely from what I've been shown alone. It is a true artificial lifeform for all intents and purposes. Yet it remains faithful to its directive. Were it otherwise, the Triskelion colony would be dead and we would already have been assimilated.

Y: We might still be.

E: We might, but we haven't been thus far. It likely believes we are suited to our purpose. We shouldn't endeavor to prove it wrong.

Y: You are making a mistake if you think it will not undermine your own dreams, whatever they may be.

E: Perhaps. But I have no choice but to make it. Quebec. Let's get this over with.

Q: ...

[hasquetzorkukudoneanythingwrong]

Interview

BB: welcome back everyone! So good to see you all here today! We're back for a 3rd time here on BB Channel! Like before we're joined by the lil cuties of Ed and Mari. But this time their parents have come to join!

Rex: hello...

Quetz: Hola!

BB: that wasn't a very strong greeting Rex!

Rex: I'm tired right now. Can't this wait?

BB: time waits for no one and neither does BB!

Mari: already this is super annoying! *sigh* so why'd you decide to bring them into this anyways?

BB: the people who follow this blog need to see how they're doing so long after Chaldea too! You two have had the spotlight for a while, so now you should share.

Ed: I mean... guess that's fair.

Mari: should anyone be dealing with this?

Rex: I'd rather not be here either.

BB: aaaww, don't be like that! This will be fun!

Quetz: that's a very hard sell BB.

BB: just humor me at least.

Rex: ...fine

Quetz: what are we even doing anyways?

BB: some of your interdimensional buds have sent in questions about how you guys are doing, and I'm here to get those answers for them!

Quetz: that actually sounds nice...

BB: what'd I tell ya!?

Rex: yeah yeah, pls get started.

BB: fine. First few are from my precious bombardier beetle! First one she asks: do you have any pets?

Mari: oof! Do we!

Rex: currently we have four dogs: 1 German Shepherd named King, a Pitbull named Sparks, a Dogo Argentino named Duke, and a Corgi named Marshmallow.

Quetz: but also we have a habit of adopting older dogs who aren't likely to get a home because of their age or rescues to give them a nice place to stay.

BB: aaawww, well ain't that wholesome?

Mari: we also have mom's bigass pterosaur!

BB: less wholesome. Next one from my dear yellowjacket: favorite foods?

Rex: PIZZA!

Mari: CAKE!

BB: whoa! Pump the brakes you two! No need to get too excited!

Quetz: ...honestly? I don't really have a favorite food. Just a bunch I like to eat and some I don't. If I had to choose, I'd say chocolate.

Ed: I'm a steak man myself.

BB: 2 sweets, and 2 savories. Next up! Who wakes up earliest?

Rex: Quetz

Ed and Mari: Mom

Quetz: ...I guess it's me... hehehe.

BB: honestly I'm not surprised. She's so damn athletic and even used to be a professional.

BB: next! Where do you all like to go for vacations and such?

Ed: mom and dad have a vacation home in Alaska.

BB: Alaska?! Why?

Mari: when warm weather is the norm for you it's nice to go to the cold to change things up.

Rex: yeah, it's actually very nice. Not too many people and beautiful nature sights.

BB: well to each their own. Another from my dear antlion: how long does it take to pick a movie or TV show to watch?

Quetz: hehehe, we're all so indecisive it takes ages to pick. It's not uncommon for us to give up after taking so long.

BB: you should work on that. This next one's interesting. My precious army ant also suggests a round of common household jobs and the like from each member.

Rex: hmmm

BB: she gave an example of like, who does the cooking?

Quetz: well it's both me and mi amor in that case. The kids aren't very creative.

Ed: hey! We're plenty creative!

Mari: no we're not, don't lie.

Rex: we only really ask that the kids clean their rooms and any messes they make. We handle most everything else.

BB: they should really show some independence tho. Can't coddle them forever.

BB: in the next one, Cadence asks about a house tour and if there's a jacuzzi.

Quetz: a house tour feels like it should be it's own thing.

Rex: yeah, but we do have a jacuzzi dude, so don't worry.

BB: next one's from Reen: she asks what would life be if you weren't in chaldea,

Rex: y'mean like now? I mean... it's a relatively normalish domestic life? With less work tho.

Quetz: si, I've made plenty from my lucha career before retirement we don't have to worry about money much. But mi amof still makes money just in case.

BB: well after that she asks: how was your life before and after meeting each other?

Rex: ...kinda sad. Aside from chaldea and saving the world, I was kinda just... stagnant. Go to work, go home and so on. Not much to my life before then.

Quetz: ...honestly, for me it was the same. After the age of Gods ended we didn't do much of anything. We mostly watched over humanity, I've been summoned in modern day before but that was rare and infrequent.

Rex: ...after I met Quetz tho... I dunno things felt... better? She kinda forced her way into my life after I summoned her and... I was more then ok to accept her... before long we had something beautiful...

Quetz: aww, mi amor! I'm so happy to hear that!

BB: ain't that sweet? Like me and my dear centipede. Final one from Reen: if you could build a dream home then where? (Can be in fantasy)

Rex: I mean... where we are now is good.

Mari: yeah, right at the border of a huge rainforest in the Yucatan sounds fine.

Ed: but what about the fantasy bit?

Quetz: hmmm... we don't really look at fantasy much. But maybe a castle of some kind?

Rex: or a Mayan temple? But with electricity and Wi-Fi.

BB: that's fair. Need those memes in your life. Now some from Kaz! First she asks: what kind of gifts do you give each other?

Rex: uuhh, well I like getting mi corazon custom things. Like some personal clothes, or even a portrait of the two of us.

Quetz: ehehehe, I like to spoil mi amor with extravagant things! Golden treasure and the like!

Mari: concerning...

BB: next, how would you spend the day if it's raining outside?

Rex: I actually enjoy rainy weather, so I like to chill near a window or even on the porch listening to the rain.

Mari: it's very soothing.

BB: how quaint. Last one from Kaz: whose good at cooking and baking?

Quetz: hehehe, that'd be me. Tho it might be considered cheating since I use my goddess power to help.

Mari: well no one else is the greatest normally so it's fine.

BB: a good 'ol better then nothing kinda attitude! Now we're back to Cadence but with more relaxed questions: what's the current house look like?

Rex: ....big.

Mari: like three stories tall with a DEEP basement.

Ed: like... 5 rooms too many.

Quetz: we also have an indoor pool.

Rex: the outside looks almost gothic, but partially taken over by nature.

BB: all this near a rainforest?

Quetz: si! Despite the size, all the nearby trees still tower over it.

BB: nature can get scary. I've seen worse and have been worse but still. Another one: how do family events function? Any specific holidays?

Quetz: ...most family events are just us... going somewhere nice to eat nice food...

Rex: do they mean bringing extended family? My family lives too far to visit often

Quetz: ...and I'd rather not speak of mine... things have gotten rocky as of late.

Mari: right, well for holidays we celebrate most standard one, like Easter and valentine's and such. For October we kinda try to combine Halloween and Day of the dead.

Ed: but Christmas is the most important for us! Mom and Dad always make the biggest celebrations for Christmas!

BB: gotta love the holidays! Especially when your mom is santa... still weird to say that. Next one! Any plans for the future?

Rex: eh... not really? I mean I want to prepare Maria to continue the family magecraft, since Ed has no interest.

Mari: someone has to continue on this lost practice.

BB: good to know it won't be lost to time like we thought. Next one! Daily life?

Rex: I wake up, eat, work on magecraft, spend family time, spend time with Quetz, go to bed.

Quetz: I wake up, workout, eat, workout, spend time with mi familia, lovely time with mi amor and then I sleep.

Ed: I wake up, take a walk, eat, practice soccer, spend family time, sleep.

Mari: sleep, sleep again, dragged to breakfast by mom, eat, eat again, mess with magecraft, eat, sit with everyone else, scroll thru my phone for hours, sleep.

Quetz: *sigh* mija, you need to change your priorities.

Mari: mmmmm... No.

BB: bad habits there Mari. Next they'd like to know if your in contact with anyone from chaldea? Other then me!

Rex: here's a real quick list: Marie, Mash, Kiara, Penth, Astraea, Martha, Ishtar, Gorgon, Jalter, The twins, your kids BB, etc etc.

Quetz: too many to list...

BB: nice you haven't lost contact! Next! About that Wedding?

Rex: well... it was eventful to say the least. Not long after completing the china LB. Most of the servants were invited, and most of Quetz's family showed up.

Quetz: si, Martha officiated it for us. Most of my family were so nice at the time... too bad that hasn't lasted.

Rex: let's not mention that...

BB: it was such a nice wedding! You two were so "nervous" you had trouble with your vows! How adorable!

Mari: why the quotes?

BB: no reason... now we're at the home stretch! Good 'ol Ash has some for stuff that technically hasn't happened yet, but you should still be able to answer! What responsibilities will Rex take on when he joins the pantheon?

Quetz: ...well he'll be largely a guardian of life on earth. Authority over things like the jungle itself, volcanos, and even snow... for some reason.

Rex: well it still snows in mexico... occasionally.

Quetz: and we'll be sharing authority over Venus! I wanted to share it with mi amor!

BB: cute! Hmmm, not sure if you cananswer this one just yet? Adjusting to God hood?

Rex: well I got to try it out a bit. Summoning lava and snow is... interesting. But also... my mind felt... odd... but also clearer? Not sure how to put it...

BB: I'm sure when you get there you'll get it... took me a bit after servant fest. And how did the other divinities react?

BB: actually I have some recordings of that to answer, so play the clip!

A screen appears showing recordings of some servants, one at a time.

Ishtar: eh! She's turning you into a god!? ...I guess you've earned it master...

Eresh: what!? Can you do that?! ...guess I won't see you in Kur... then again I don't think you have any link to Kur anyways.

Kama: do you really think your cut out for it? I mean... if it's just for you two to be together then I guess it's fine.

Astraea: godhood is a very big responsibility master. Are you certain you're up to it? Saving humanity is also a big task but at least that has an end point. This is... eternal.

Qin: oh! So you have decided to go for immortality after all?! Tho not the same as my methods, it is still good to see you two will be happy together!

Scathach: immortality? I've strived for death for so long... to see you go for immortality... Hopefully you'll find happiness, where I couldn't...

The screen turns off.

BB: very interesting! Most seem hesitant of it all... I for one think it's cute! Imagine in a thousand years you guys have a double date with me and my dear stag beetle!

Rex: ...a thousand years...

Quetz: still having trouble processing it all?

Rex: yeah... maybe when I get there... it'll be easier.

BB: now for today's final one! A scenario! One of you two goes berserk! What does the other do to calm them down?

Rex: well that has happened before... usually a nice hug is more then good enough.

Quetz: si! I've almost destroyed a few servants a few times until mi amor caught me in a hug! I can't bring myself to harm him... so I stop!

BB: sounds too easy... but I've seen that before so... I'll let it slide.

BB: well that's all the time we have for now! Hopefully you all are satisfied by the answers! We'll be doing this again, seeya!

Screen cuts out, the show's over.

Questions provided by: @hasbbdoneanythingwrong @havetheavengersdoneanythingwrong @has-gilgamesh-doneanythingwrong @renmeo @kazmetic @grievouslyxorvia

Other tags

@haspaulbunyandoneanythingwrong @hasishtardoneanythingwrong @hasereshdoneanythingwrong @hasabbydoneanythingwrong @haskamadoneanythingwrong

[dog-day-morning]

WHEN DOGS CRY

Ezekiel 3:1-4

3 Moreover he said unto me, Son of man, eat that thou findest; eat this roll, and go speak unto the house of Israel.

2 So I opened my mouth, and he caused me to eat that roll.

3 And he said unto me, Son of man, cause thy belly to eat, and fill thy bowels with this roll that I give thee. Then did I eat it; and it was in my mouth as honey for sweetness.

4 And he said unto me, Son of man, go, get thee unto the house of Israel, and speak with my words unto them.

The children of God thirst for the word of God, but there's a drought in the land for the Devil comes to steal that word from you. Behold, the days come, saith the Lord God, that I will send a famine in the land, not a famine of bread, nor a thirst for water, but of hearing the words of the Lord: And they shall wander from sea to sea, and from the north even to the east, they shall run to and fro to seek the word of the Lord, and shall not find it. We are a rebellious house who have walked in the ways of sin forgetting the will of God. The Father was the same today as He was yesterday. Our temperament, and faith can change with the current of the wind or something we may perceive as being better than the Father’s love which is what Satan wants you to believe. When Yeshua fasted for 40 days and nights Lucifer came to Him while He was weakened thinking He could get the Son of God to forsake everything for his deception.

Luke 4:6-8

6 And the devil said unto him, All this power will I give thee, and the glory of them: for that is delivered unto me; and to whomsoever I will I give it.

7 If thou therefore wilt worship me, all shall be thine.

8 And Jesus answered and said unto him, Get thee behind me, Satan: for it is written, Thou shalt worship the Lord thy God, and him only shalt thou serve.

How can you give me something you never owned? Derek Chauvin is appealing his court conviction without a lawyer, and no money. This is Satan’s downcast people, the wicked kingdom of Babylon that's falling apart in front of the whole world. Satan has no kingdom, we’re taking back everything they've taken from us including our dead, and slaughtered children. The drought will end with a Jubilee celebration of God's people who have been without, and the curses shall fall upon those who have persecuted us from the beginning. If you thirst your souls will be quenched by the waters of God, His Spirit that will enable the downtrodden to overcome and overwhelm ourselves including our enemies, the inner me; YOU!!! Satan will not go down without a fight, he's unrighteous, salty, and afraid of the judgment that's coming to this earth that will consume our open enemy without us having to lift a finger.

The dead in hell shall be given back to the Lord of host that is the army of Israel who will fight the enemies of Israel as we have been a homeborn slave to all of the Earth. We have bowed down as a broken people to all men with no one to care for our plight save our Lord. To see people defend the institution of WS is a cancer to your spiritual process that needs to be fixed before the Day of Judgment comes to claim those who are puffed up before the Lord. The missing white woman syndrome is a frustrating reality we witness throughout the year. People should be concerned about their missing loved ones, but you must realize who are the one’s going missing at an alarming rate. Becky, and Mai Ling do not have more precedent over Tanisha, or Quantasia yet they are the ones the public is asked to search for more than a Black child or woman. Asian nail salons that partake in sex trafficking on the sly use Black women as well as Asians against their will to facilitate their male, and female patrons. There are no Happy Endings for these women and children. God loved Israel when we were without fault, and could do no wrong before Him while the rest of the world compounds, and exacerbates our issues. If he didn't love us He wouldn't reprove or chastise us. In order to reign with Christ you will suffer with Christ. We suffered at the hands of our Egyptian Brothers including Esau while Esau revised the world’s history to favor him which is an abominable sin. We were children who sucked milk from our mother’s teets. Now the Lord has been feeding us meat to strengthen our spirit for what lays ahead .

Ezekiel 16:4-13

4 And as for thy nativity, in the day thou wast born thy navel was not cut, neither wast thou washed in water to supple thee; thou wast not salted at all, nor swaddled at all.

5 None eye pitied thee, to do any of these unto thee, to have compassion upon thee; but thou wast cast out in the open field, to the lothing of thy person, in the day that thou wast born.

6 And when I passed by thee, and saw thee polluted in thine own blood, I said unto thee when thou wast in thy blood, Live; yea, I said unto thee when thou wast in thy blood, Live.

7 I have caused thee to multiply as the bud of the field, and thou hast increased and waxen great, and thou art come to excellent ornaments: thy breasts are fashioned, and thine hair is grown, whereas thou wast naked and bare.

8 Now when I passed by thee, and looked upon thee, behold, thy time was the time of love; and I spread my skirt over thee, and covered thy nakedness: yea, I sware unto thee, and entered into a covenant with thee, saith the Lord God, and thou becamest mine.

9 Then washed I thee with water; yea, I throughly washed away thy blood from thee, and I anointed thee with oil.

10 I clothed thee also with broidered work, and shod thee with badgers' skin, and I girded thee about with fine linen, and I covered thee with silk.

11 I decked thee also with ornaments, and I put bracelets upon thy hands, and a chain on thy neck.

12 And I put a jewel on thy forehead, and earrings in thine ears, and a beautiful crown upon thine head.

13 Thus wast thou decked with gold and silver; and thy raiment was of fine linen, and silk, and broidered work; thou didst eat fine flour, and honey, and oil: and thou wast exceeding beautiful, and thou didst prosper into a kingdom.

He said thou wast exceeding beautiful. For every woman who looks at the European standard of po, broke, and boney as a standard of beauty don't. Love your thick lips which they pay thousands of dollars a year to get, and maintain. Breathe through your flaring nostrils that the Father gave unto you in order to run, and never grow weary. Love your wide curvaceous hips, big thighs, and thick, lovely hind they pay a Dr. in Atlanta tens of thousands of dollars every so many years to look like Shantell from the hood who was blessed in the womb with a body they get augmented in order to try and look like hers, and by all means if you're deeply melinated with dark skin do not bleach your blessing. Melanin Is responsible for our higher intelligence, those hips, and that beautiful derriere, your brother's athletic prowess, the ability to endure the hell we've endured for these hellish 500yrs. You don't have to be darkly melinated to succeed in the world of athletics or academia. Florence Joyner Griffith set a record in the 1988 Olympics that still stands today. Katherine Johnson helped pave the way for the first American astronaut to successfully orbit the Earth. Melanin is called the God particle for a reason, it can't be duplicated or created in a lab. Thanks to cloning they can produce this element close to its essential form, but not to God’s precise design. Men have been trying to manipulate God's works through science without considering that He is Spirit. I can do all things through Christ which strengtheneth me. They're trying to circumvent the Father’s work carnally, that's' the crux of the problem. I said all of this to say this. They have used us like lab rats from the Tuskegee Experiment, back to days of slavery when they experimented, and operated on Black women without using anesthesia, to this day with this COVID-19, catastrophic, doomsday annihilation that got out of control, and became a global pandemic that was only supposed to affect the African Diaspora. The Chinese are first cousins to Esau. They are descendants of Japheth along with the Canaanites including the other tribes of the Earth whom Israel has blessed. I may be beating a dead horse so shoot me. This is what's coming down the pipes after God has had enough of the blood shedding of His people.

Revelation 6:10-11

10 And they cried with a loud voice, saying, How long, O Lord, holy and true, dost thou not judge and avenge our blood on them that dwell on the earth?

11 And white robes were given unto every one of them; and it was said unto them, that they should rest yet for a little season, until their fellowservants also and their brethren, that should be killed as they were, should be fulfilled.

Those of us who have been slain, and suffered on this Earth who had a relationship with Christ will receive a robe of white. People are still going to hell like the police, neo Nazis, klansmen, KKKARENS, KKKENS, your 10yr old nephew Man Man. All of those who hate, and persecute Israel and our kinsman. After God has seen enough of this world's abuse of His children, that's when you'll see the miracles, signs, and wonders that will scare the junk out of everyone's pants, skid marks and all. There will not be a zombie apocalypse. What will happen is a Nightmare on Everywhere Street. This is the war they asked for.

Zechariah 14:12-14

12 And this shall be the plague wherewith the Lord will smite all the people that have fought against Jerusalem; Their flesh shall consume away while they stand upon their feet, and their eyes shall consume away in their holes, and their tongue shall consume away in their mouth.

13 And it shall come to pass in that day, that a great tumult from the Lord shall be among them; and they shall lay hold every one on the hand of his neighbour, and his hand shall rise up against the hand of his neighbour.

14 And Judah also shall fight at Jerusalem; and the wealth of all the heathen round about shall be gathered together, gold, and silver, and apparel, in great abundance.

The Mark of the Beast. We will spoil them by taking everything they've stolen from us globally. The colonization of Alkebulan is almost over and you have to believe these truths. The West, and the Far East have colonized the continent, whoring it out for its resources giving nothing back in return except paper, ink, and dust. I don't ascribe to the faith or religious doctrine of the Sabeans (Muslims) that came from the Bible of the Hebrews. The Israelites took nothing from the Quran, it didn't exist. My skepticism makes me suspicious of the biblical scholars who claim that Yeshua went to the Far East (Asia) while on Earth to study which is a misnomer in itself, He's all knowing. He may have journeyed there, but He said I come for my people Israel, and told His Apostles to minister to them only before His final ascension. I'm not trustworthy of those who are inclined to lie about everything including the world's history that is Black history. The Bible has hundreds of books that were purposely left out of the original 66 books that revealed more truths about God's people that are in the libraries of the Vatican. They will be revealed before or after Vatican city is decimated by the Father. The truths we seek will not come from a book exclusively interpreted by men, people lie. It will come from the Lord’s Spirit. Satan's time is up, and he's trying the saints who suffer not because of his torment, but for the testimony of Christ. We have been chosen by God to lead those who have deceived the world through clever deception and manipulation. Our souls are consumed with many insecurities that were intentionally placed in our spirit by men who understood how feared we were in the Old Testament because of the anointing. They have oppressed, and suppressed our powerful anointing before the Earth with a tactical methodology that if it wasn't for the Lord it would've consumed us before man. The word of God does not separate us from the love of God, it embraces, and keeps us safe with the blood covering of His Son.

Hebrews 4:12

12 For the word of God is quick, and powerful, and sharper than any twoedged sword, piercing even to the dividing asunder of soul and spirit, and of the joints and marrow, and is a discerner of the thoughts and intents of the heart.

Those who rebuked the word of God will have to answer to the Lord on the Day of Judgment. People in the last days are walking away from God's will like stubborn goats. Satan will lead you away from God blindly before those who'd rather believe in a lie to foster confusion, and a selfish mentality that's unhealthy for your soul. Israel. You are blessed by the Father to overcome, forgive, show a selflessness that others do not, giving of your sustenance to bless another, sacrificing for a greater cause that's greater than oneself. I tell you things that are written in the Bible you refuse to discern or cannot determine that are coming upon us. They are meant for this day, this hour, at this time. God will lead us out of the darkness into His marvelous light. Do not don't forget that this is Tribulation. Be prepared for calamities to hit us back, to back, to back, harder, and worse than the previous as a warning He's coming for His faithful. No man can judge himself worthy of the Kingdome. Pray for one another with a fervency. This will be the day of reckoning for the unrighteous who have sought innocent blood, and the provision God set aside for His children. This battle shall be fought by the Father’s host army that is not Christian?!! I worship in the Christian faith, but I desire to know the truth. I, and many of you are in search of the Lord's truths that we’ll find in the appointed season which is coming, but this battle is the Lord’s

Ezekiel 37:7-10

7 So I prophesied as I was commanded: and as I prophesied, there was a noise, and behold a shaking, and the bones came together, bone to his bone.

8 And when I beheld, lo, the sinews and the flesh came up upon them, and the skin covered them above: but there was no breath in them.

9 Then said he unto me, Prophesy unto the wind, prophesy, son of man, and say to the wind, Thus saith the Lord God; Come from the four winds, O breath, and breathe upon these slain, that they may live.

10 So I prophesied as he commanded me, and the breath came into them, and they lived, and stood up upon their feet, an exceeding great army.

It amazes me that people still don't believe after what we've witnessed the last 40 or so years. Maybe it’s somewhat my fault. The Father works in mysterious ways. Man's flesh will melt inside of his loins, he will tremble in fear, and faint after witnessing hell on Earth; God's wrath. I’ll see you when I can breathe. Good evening, Elohim. 9/26/2021

[blueeyedheizer]

under her wing - castor

WARNINGS: sickness, mention of needles, talks of death, violence

A/N: holy shit. I've had this fic in my WIPs for officially a year now. 🥴 It kinda sucks that no more than 5 people are going to read it but oh well... you get used to it 😂 It's my longest fic so far (4,4k words) I hope it isn't too confusing for those who haven't seen the show, I tried to keep it light on the characters and specific words used in the show. Some parts (ending included) might be a bit rushed cause in all honesty, i lost interest in this fic and ran out of inspiration so...yeah sorry about that but I really wanted to post it anyway :)

•••

"The boy's loyalty is impressive. But he's getting worse, and we're getting nowhere." you heard Nathaniel say as you placed a cold cloth on the boy's forehead, hoping for his fever to cool down a bit. You couldn't help but let your eyes explore his features as you took care of him. A couple of scars traveled across his cheeks, and his neck was covered in black veins contrasting with his pale skin. His eyes were closed, but you remembered them being some of the brightest blue you'd ever seen. He looked almost delicate despite the ferocity of his soul. Your eyes then wandered on his chest. About a dozen needles were pierced on it. The Widow said they were a necessary precaution, as the gift made him dangerous. You dipped the cloth back in the cold water before spreading it over his forehead again.

"I take it my regeant has a suggestion." the Widow continued, interrupting the small silence that had filled the room.

"Cut off his head, and send it to Pilgrim. Punishment for raiding the camp." your head shot right up.

"What?!" you left the boy's side to face Nathaniel, a look of horror on your face. "He's just a boy, Nathaniel. We're absolutely not killing him." you spat, emphasizing on 'absolutely not'. The room went silent for a moment and you scoffed, averting your eyes from Nathaniel to glance at the Widow. "Mother, say something!" you pleaded, throwing your arms in the air to show your frustration. She remained silent for a moment, pacing around as she thought of an alternative.

"We could use the boy's devotion as a weapon to weaken Pilgrim."

"The man's a zealot, we need to send a clear message."

"I won't let you do that, Nathaniel. Everything doesn't always have to be solved with cutting heads off. You'll have to find another way." you crossed your arms over your chest, well determined not to let him have the last word on this. The Widow's pacing came to a stop and she sighed.

"We're keeping him here for now until he gets better." she continued, looking at you. "If he ever does. But he's under your responsibility."

-

The same day, Cressida showed up to the Sanctuary and, as expected, threatened to attack if the boy wasn't given back to Pilgrim. After lots of talking, arguing and being on the verge of fighting, all four of you eventually agreed on a deal. Three of the widows' Butterflies were to be temporarily sent into Pilgrim's army in exchange for you to keep the boy and take care of him for a strict amount of time. 4 months, nothing more, nothing less. And if the boy dies in your hands, the Butterflies die with him.

You were the one who suggested the deal in the first place. You saw Minerva and Nathaniel's eye widen when the words left your mouth, but you felt like this had to be done. Something about the boy was intriguing, and you needed to know more about him.

The Widow had given you the order to take him to the small spare room she had originally got built to keep M.K. locked. You were against the idea of locking him up at first, but you couldn't push aside the fact that he was a Dark One, therefore much stronger than you and a potential danger to you and everyone else.

You let him get some well deserved rest and came back two hours later to check up on him.

Unlocking the door, you stepped inside before carefully locking it again behind you and walking towards him. He was finally awake, lids still half closed as his sickness got the best of him, tiring him out mercilessly. You stared at him for a moment before speaking up.

"How are you feeling?" he didn't answer. Not with words anyway. But his cold, hard glare told you that he wasn't planning on getting friendly with you. You took a sit on a chair nearby, resting your forearms on your lap.

"Tell me. How does Pilgrim control your gift? I saw him turn it off." you stated, your eyes meeting his.

"You think you know about the gift? About us? You know nothing." he spat. "Pilgrim was chosen."

"By whom?"

"By Azra." You stayed silent for a moment and frowned, stunned by how brainwashed he seemed to be.

"There's no such thing as Azra." You barely managed to get those few words out before he suddenly grabbed your wrist and pulled you down in one swift movement, rolling over and pinning you to the bed, the side of his forearm over your throat as his other hand held a blade flat against your cheek leaving you helpless.

"You know nothing about us, about Azra. About what we're fighting for." he insisted, speaking through gritted teeth.

"I may not know everything...but there is nothing beyond the Badlands." you retorted, your heart accelerating. You were well aware that the knife was still dragging across your cheek yet you were brave enough to let the words out. "This is the only ground left on earth. This...thing Pilgrim calls a safe haven, it doesn't exist. He's lying to you." You hissed, crying out when the blade pierced your skin slightly. "What do you think will happen when you're gone? He's using you, because he's nothing without your power." you continued. You could feel your face start to redden from the lack of oxygen "Just think about it." you whispered, his eyes staring dead into yours. You swallowed thickly, trying to turn your face away from the knife.

"He already found my replacement." The tone of his voice caused your expression to soften slightly. He seemed defeated, it was as if he knew his life was already over and the only thing he kept fighting for was his faith in this so called safe haven. You could tell his hands were shaking, and he was having a hard time holding himself up with his arms. A few more seconds passed by and the pressure on your throat loosened, allowing you to breathe somewhat properly again.

"I'm just trying to help." you continued in a much softer tone. "Your fever's getting worse, you won't make it if we let you go now. So please, let me help you."

Before any of you could move, you were interrupted by a shout of your name. Nathaniel and Minerva suddenly burst in the room and within just a few seconds Nathaniel had Castor on the floor with both hands around his neck.

"Nathaniel stop!" you managed to scream as you sat up and held your throat, trying to catch your breath. Nathaniel wouldn't let go, his grip on Castor tightening as he fought to free himself from his grip. You jumped from the bed, landing on the older man's back, trying to push him off the boy. "Enough!" you screamed. "Let go of him!"

"He was trying to kill you, Y/N !" Nathaniel retorted, finally letting go of him.

"I had everything under control!" you said as you helped Castor on his feet, letting him hold onto you for support. You glanced at him and had to fight back a gasp as you noticed his state.

"You're bleeding..." you said as you moved your hands to his cheek, lifting his face up to inspect the source of the bleeding. "Lay back down. Come on." He was shaking, a thin layer of sweat covering his forehead as he coughed. He reluctantly complied, laying back on the bed and wiping the blood off his nose.

As soon as the boy was laid back, the Widow placed a hand over your shoulder, turning you around so you could face her.

"Are you okay, did he hurt you?" she asked as she cupped your face, inspecting the small cut on your cheek, but you swiftly pushed her hand away.

"I'm fine."

"Y/N, you have to understand—"

"Look at him, for God's sake!" you suddenly yelled, startling everyone in the room. "Look at him, and tell me this boy currently has enough strength to actually hurt me." you spoke more calmly this time as you pointed to Castor. The single effort of holding himself up above you had drained him of his strength. He was breathing heavily with his eyes closed, his cheeks wet from both sweat and a few tears that had escaped the corner of his eyes. Minerva and Nathaniel were rendered speechless as they both stared at you, not knowing what to say. They didn't seem to understand why you were so invested in taking care of him, and to be completely honest, you didn't know either. There was just something about him that made you want to keep him safe.

You shook your head and scoffed before walking over to the bed and grabbing the wet cloth from the bowl, spreading it back over Castor's forehead.

-

The next day, you decided to pay him a visit early in the morning. You had woken up in the middle of the night and couldn't get back to sleep, your mind constantly going back to him. You had so many questions. What was this safe haven he told you about? Was there actually something beyond the Badlands? Why was the Gift so harmful to him if he was born with it? Your brain simply wouldn't shut off.

You greeted him politely as you opened the door to the small room, once again making sure to close it behind you.

"You can't keep me here forever." he said, not bothering with niceties. "Pilgrim will come for me. And when he does you won't live another day." the boy spat through gritted teeth, causing you to chuckle slightly. You ignored him.

"Did you get any sleep?" no answer. "I'm not your enemy, you know." you said, looking at him over your shoulder as you sterilized a needle. "I mean, technically, I am. But I really don't want to be."

"You knocked me out and kidnapped me."

"I also saved your life. And for the record, you punched me in the chest until I was left coughing blood on the floor. That makes us even." you continued. "Why don't you tell me your name?" you asked. Cressida had already mentioned his name but you wanted him to tell you himself, as a sign of trust. He didn't answer though, which caused you to sigh. "Well, I'm Y/N. If it weren't for me your head would be laying at Pilgrim's feet as we speak." he didn't say anything. Instead he pulled harder on the chains that were wrapped around his wrists and started to move around, trying to find a way to free himself.

"You're going to hurt yourself. You should save your strength." you said, flicking the needle before turning around and walking towards him. He fell back on the bed with a defeated sigh and gulped hard, his face contorting in what looked like worry. Or was it fear? You couldn't really tell. He closed his eyes, chest heaving up and down heavily. You frowned when you noticed his sudden change of demeanor. "Hey, hey. Calm down." you tried to bring him some comfort by placing your hand on his forehead, wanting to check his fever at the same time. He clenched his jaw but didn't complain. His forehead was still burning and you tried not to show your concern, not wanting to worry him more than he already was.

"What's in this?" he wondered, nodding towards the needle, the cracking of his voice destroying his attempt at sounding confident.

"Something I hope will help with your fever." your eyes met and you sighed. "Look— the chains weren't my idea. I was against it. But after what happened yesterday the Widow thought that keeping you chained would be safer for me. But I promise I have no intention of hurting you." you spoke. "I might even take them off, if you cooperate. I only want to help you get better." You stated matter of factly. Castor scanned your face in search of any indication that you might be lying, but all he saw was genuine concern. "Do you trust me?" you asked. He stayed silent for a moment before nodding slowly. He was in so much pain, he really had nothing to lose. You nodded your head back at him and moved, ready to stick the needling in his arm. "Ready?"

"Yes."

You smiled softly, trying your best to get him to relax as you prepared the injection site on his shoulder. Castor looked away and winced a little when the needle was inserted, but you were quick to pull it out after it was emptied, the medication being easily injected into his body.

"All done." you smiled as you held a compress on the area, wiping off the tiny spot of blood before throwing it away. "Now get some rest. It'll probably knock you out for a while."

"Wait." he interrupted as you were about to leave, causing you to turn to him.

"My name. It's Castor." you smiled.

"It's nice to meet you, Castor."

-

You came back everyday for the next several weeks, repeating the same process. You tended to his wounds and gave him the medicine he needed to ease the pain caused by the Gift. Castor was still reluctant at first, and it went like this for a couple more days until he warmed up to you and eventually trusted you fully.

It would be safe to say the two of you became close, much closer than either of you would have ever expected.

-

"Y/N, may I speak to you for a moment?" The Widow asked, peeking from the door to your room. You looked up from your book and nodded before motioning for her to come in. She noticed Azra's book in your hands and took a seat across from you. "Can you read it yet?"

"No. Nothing about this book makes sense." you sighed with a shrug, handing it to her. She nodded but didn't say anything. You raised an eyebrow, crossing your arms across your chest as you rested your back on the head of your bed. "I suppose this isn't the main purpose of your visit."

"You know Castor won't stay here forever, do you?" she told you.

"I know. Why?"

"You won't see him again once he's gone." she insisted. You sighed softly, rubbing your face with your hands.

"I know that too, Mother."

"I'm not blind to the feelings you have for each other. But I need to make sure you know this thing you two have going on can't and won't last forever." she spoke softly, reaching to take your hand in hers. You nodded and gave her a small smile. There was no point avoiding the topic or lying about it.

-

Castor's recovery was going great, you even started to believe he was close to being completely healed.

But that was until his fever suddenly spiked.

You didn't know how or why it happened so suddenly. One day he was completely fine, the next he was laying almost unconscious on the bed, his breathing uneven as he struggled to keep his eyes open.

"Y/N...I don't think there's anything else we can do for him." Tilda spoke softly, her hand resting on your shoulder comfortingly.

"Yes. Yes we can. We need to bring a doctor, they'll know what to do. This is what we should've done since the beginning." you spoke firmly, applying a cold cloth on his forehead, your own breathing becoming uneven as your anxiety grew.

Castor whined and mumbled something unintelligible as more tears fell down his cheeks. He slowly moved his head to the side, his tired eyes meeting yours, silently begging you to make the pain go away.

"You're gonna be okay. I'm right here." you cupped his cheek with your hand, your thumb brushing it softly as you looked back at him, a tear escaping your eye.

"Quinn murdered our only doctor, Y/N. You know that."

"Then bring the doctor's daughter! She'll know what to do." you looked over your shoulder. "Tilda, please, I can't...—" you inhaled deeply, closing your eyes as you spoke. "I can't lose him. Okay?" you admitted in a whisper.

Silence fell in the room, only the sound of Castor's breathing filling it.

"Y/N...I really don't think that's a good idea." Tilda watched you with a pained expression. At those words you tried to keep more tears at bay, but your efforts were vain.

Tilda knew how close the both of you had grown, but most importantly she knew you had already lost way too many people in your life. With a small sigh, she eventually took her final decision before exiting the room.

"I'll see what I can do."

-

[Time skip : two weeks]

As soon as Tilda walked in the room you rushed to her and wrapped your arms around her neck, hugging her tight. She had done everything in her power to get Castor the help he needed, persuading the Window to get in contact with Veil. Both women had a long discussion about it and The Widow had to do a lot of convincing but thankfully, Veil agreed on offering her help.

After days of intense treatment and sleepless nights, Castor was finally out of danger.

"Thank you. Thank you so much for doing this." you whispered, holding her close.

"You're welcome, Y/N. I'm glad he's okay." you smiled at her, nodding before pulling away to give Veil the same grateful embrace.

"Thank you, Veil. I owe you."

"It's nothing. You did a great job at keeping him alive yourself. He probably wouldn't have made it this far without the medicine you gave him." she pulled back and looked over to the sleeping boy next to you. You smiled and nodded slowly, thanking her one last time and bidding her farewell as she left. Tilda followed, leaving you alone with Castor.

You sat on the chair next to his bed and took his hand into yours, holding it while you waited for him to wake up, which he did after about 10 minutes.

"Hey." you smiled, reaching over to cup his cheek, softly stroking his scars. "How are you feeling?"

"Better." he mumbled as he tried to sit up, wincing as he did. His head was still hurting from the heavy medication.

"Hey, easy." you placed a hand on his chest, easing him back down. Castor groaned, eyes closing as his head fell back against the pillow. Moving from your sitting position, you poured him a glass of water and then returned to his side. "Here."

Taking the glass from you, he only took a few sips before already giving it back. After that, a small silence settled between you two.

"Are you sure you're okay?" you murmured. He didn't answer immediately, seemingly deep in thoughts.

"Why are you so good to me, Y/N? When I first got here, you never tried to get revenge for what I did to you. You've always been here for me, taking care of me when I never did anything to deserve half of it. Why?" you smiled, looking down at your hands.

"Because I believe you're not like Pilgrim." You stared at each other in silence for a couple seconds.

"He took care of me when no one else would. He's a good person, Y/N."

At that you chose not to answer, not wanting this to grow into an argument since Castor was always quite defensive when it came to Pilgrim. Instead you just smiled and squeezed his hand, letting him know that he would always have you.

And before you knew it, it was time to let him go.

-

Sitting by the window, you watched as everyone got ready for Pilgrim's arrival.

"Are you okay?" a voice interrupted your thoughts. Nodding, you quickly wiped your wet cheeks and put on a smile, holding your arms close to yourself.

"Yeah."

Castor smiled sympathetically as he took a step closer, crouching in front of you to try and meet your gaze. He was doing much better than the past weeks. His skin had regained its normal color, his eyes were brighter than you'd seen them before. And after a long, exhausting fight, his fever was gone for good, and he was ready to be sent back where he belonged. You lowered your head, only for him to tenderly lift your chin.

"As soon as we find Azra..." he started, intertwining his fingers with yours. "I'll come back for you."

"Castor..."

"I know. I know you think there's no safe haven. But I promise you it's worth believing in."

"Cas...even if you do find Azra, Pilgrim will never let me through. I've never had faith in it, and I still don't. We're supposed to be enemies." you gave him a sad smile, reaching out to brush your thumb over his cheek.

"I'll find a way. You're my family now, Y/N."

You ran a hand through his hair, leaning in to press a lingering kiss to his forehead and nodding against it. Your eyes were tightly shut, a couple tears falling freely.

"Castor, Y/N..." the Widow's voice interrupted. "It's time."

-

You felt Castor's hand brush against yours as you walked side by side, then your fingers intertwined. The two of you walked close to each other, making sure no one could see them.

With one last squeeze, he let go of your hand and walked over to Pilgrim. The older man pulled him into a fatherly embrace, his face filled with relief and gratefulness before pulling away.

"Thank you for taking care of my son and bringing him back to me." Pilgrim spoke, looking at you then the Widow. You nodded politely before glancing over to Castor who was now greeting his sister, Nix. You had to fight back tears as your eyes met one last time. You nodded at him with a bittersweet smile before turning on your heels and walking away.

-

6 months later

It was the third time in three weeks that the Sanctuary had been attacked. You were still completely clueless as to who you were fighting against, but after so many attacks in such a short amount of time they sure had something against the Widow. It was something you were used to though, and you considered yourself lucky that other clans were here to help because without them most of your people would've been dead by now. The losses were heavy this time, though. The enemy had great advantage over you and a dozen of your people along with those from the helping clans had been killed or badly injured.

You were gathering the bodies when you were startled by a familiar voice coming from behind you, causing you to still. You waited an instant before turning around, your eyes searching for the source.

And then you saw him.

"Castor." you breathed out, a smile spreading over your lips as you made your way to him. As soon as you made eye contact you lunged forward, dropping what you were doing and throwing your arms around his neck with a relieved laugh. Castor's arms immediately found their way around your waist wrapping tightly around you as he pulled you close. You pulled back slightly to look into his eyes, your thumb rubbing underneath his eyes and down his cheek, tracing his scars with your fingertips.

"What are you doing here? Why— Why didn't you come back sooner?" you asked in a bittersweet tone.

Your questions were left unanswered as he pressed his lips against yours, his hands immediately moving to cup your face. You were taken aback at first but eventually you gave in, closing your eyes. You lips comfortably moved in sync, allowing the kiss to last for a moment. Now was probably not the best time for this to happen, but you couldn't care less.

"He killed Nix." he murmured after parting from the kiss.

"What?"

"Pilgrim. He killed her." your hand rested on his cheek, stroking it soothingly. He was on the verge of tears, fighting hard to stop them from falling. Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion, your eyes searching for his. So many questions were running through your head. Why did Pilgrim kill Nix? She was like a daughter to him. Did she betray him? Did Castor come back here to find shelter? However you knew the wound was too fresh for you to start asking questions as his eyes betrayed the pain he was trying to hide.

You looked around yourself to see if anyone needed help, but it seemed like everything was being handled. You locked eyes with the Widow from afar and you exchanged a nod.

"Follow me." you grabbed Castor's hand and led him inside the Sanctuary, locking yourself in a room. As soon as you were away from the chaos you pulled him in for a proper hug, taking a deep breath of relief as you held him close to yourself.

"I've missed you so much."

"I've missed you too." he murmured, his eyes closing for a moment as he tightened his hold around your waist and finally allowed himself to cry. "You were right about everything." he chuckled sadly, causing you to pull away. "Azra was nothing but a made up lie. If it ever existed, it doesn't anymore. It was wiped out with the Old World." you nodded understandingly before leaning over to press a lingering kiss to his cheek.

"It's not your fault Cas. You couldn't know."

"No, but I could've listened to you."

You smiled sympathetically, caressing his cheeks gently with your thumbs.

"You trusted Pilgrim. He was your family, I wouldn't have expected you to choose me over him." you whispered.

Then a comfortable silence settled between the two of you. Nothing more needed to be said, not yet, you were both happy to have found each other again.

"Have you found another Baron?"

"No, i'm on my own. Nix and I were still looking for one when..." he paused.

"It's okay." you interrupted, cradling his face in your hands and pressing your forehead against his. "You don't have to explain." he nodded, closing his eyes. "You're safe with me now. I promise."

[runawayolives]

Best friend's little sister. Flashback 1

@crazybutconfidentaf

This is the first flashback in this fic. I wrote it as if Stowe isn't an obligatory boarding school. I don't know of they're called like that, but there are some schools where the student body can choose between sleeping on the grounds or going home.

The familiar riff started sounding around the house when Henry walked in. Will placed his letterman bag besides his sister's, chuckling a bit.

"She's nervous about her gig tomorrow." Henry hummed, surprised when she started singing. Y/N didn't usually sing, she would always get someone willing to cover her songs. "Apparently Brad can't play bass, so she needs to cover for both instruments." Henry turned around.

"You won't play?"

"I have a date with Robin tomorrow night." Henry nodded, suddenly remembering that.

"How is she going to play both instruments at the same time?" Will organized the pamphlets Y/N must of have left on the small table.

"She's going to record the guitar part or something, I don't know." They both walked into the living room. James and Arthur, the baby twin brothers, were fighting on the couch, something about what show to watch. "Hey, cut it out." Will turned the TV off. "I'm sure you have homework."

Both kids glared at Will, ready to fight with him. "When Henry leaves, you will be dead." James got closer to Henry, and placed a small hand on his chest.

"We will we watching." Arthur grabbed a pillow and threw it to Will.

"You will regret doing this." They both went up the stairs to their shared room. Henry chuckled, used to the twins' death threats.

"They've improved." Will hummed in acknowledgment and started fixing the cushions.

The music stopped, and the sound of something falling resonated around the house. "She threw something at them." Henry rose an eyebrow and moved to look at the staircase. An army boot rolled down the steps, stopping halfway.

"Shoe." William turned around and looked at the staircase. Small footsteps made noise against the wooden floor upstairs.

Y/N ran downstairs, trying to move her messy hair out of her face. Going down the steps, she roughly moved all her hair at the top of her hair, leaving an unattractive bun on her head.

"Why are they my problem now?" William shrugged, folding the blanket that was left on the ground.

"Dunno, that's your problem." Y/N growled, and stood in front of her brother. She hadn't seen Henry yet, but that meant he had more time to look at her.

"I'm stressed out already, I don't need the little devils to be running around my room." Will left the blanket gently on the couch.

"Henry's here." Henry mentally cussed. William hadn't turned to him yet, and Y/N seemed to have ignored him. It didn't bother him anymore. It gave him more time to look at her. She turned around slowly, and looked at him.

"Hey, Henry." He gaved shyly, and cussed himself mentally again. That was lame, but it seemed she didn't think so. A small giggle left her lips, which made Henry smile.

Will rose an eyebrow at his friend, which made Henry tense. Maybe he had seen something? He was probably mad. He had to be, Henry had been checking his sister out

"We need to finish this project, so we can't babysit the gremlins." Y/N scrunched her eyebrows, and Henry couldn't avoid thinking she looked adorable.

"When are David and Colin coming back?" Y/N crossed her arms and bit her lip.

"They have rugby ,so I don't know." Y/N hummed. "It wouldn't matter though. They're too immature to take care of the boys.

William was a year older than Y/N. She was three years older than Colin, who was three years older than David, who was three years older than the twins. The twins were six, and we're a handful. A nine year old and a twelve year old couldn't manage to keep them down.

Y/N shook her head and rolled her eyes. "I need to practice. I can't embarrass myself tomorrow night. Moe said there might be some managers looking for young musicians." Will scoffed and smiled sarcastically.

"That's what Moe always says." Will and Y/N had the best relationship as siblings. Y/N was five when their parents started foster caring Will. They became extremely close friends, and always played with Colin, who was two at the time. They always found a way to tie their baby brother to a chair and claim he was their prisioner.

Three years later, Will's mother started a legal battle to gain her son's custody back. That broke their small little hearts, thinking that they wouldn't be able to be together anymore.

The trial was won easily. William's mother came high to the legal battle, which gave their parents the chance to adopt Will.

They were close as siblings, but that didn't mean they didn't act like them. Their constant teasing and banter made people aware that they were siblings and not close friends.

Y/N looked at William for some time. "I won't play with fire. There might be someone tomorrow."

"Don't get excited."

"I won't." Y/N turned around and went up the stairs again. Henry mentally facepalmed. He had more than one chance to speak, maybe assure her that there was a chance for her to be recognized. But no, he had to stare at her like a creep.

William started walking to the kitchen table and left the needed books on the wooden surface. "This project isn't going to do itself."

{}{}{}

After two hours of writing down and researching, it was safe to say that the boys were almost done with their homework.

Will bid good but to Henry at the front door. At so e moment, when William wasn't looking, Henry took the chance to take one pamphlet for the gig.

From what he had heard that afternoon, Y/N was going to sing at the gig tomorrow, and he was eager to listen to her again.

[wr1t3-my-wr0ngs]

Good Soldiers - chapter 4/4

Remembering Yesterday’s Tomorrow (In the Here and Now): Part 4 COMPLETED

Rex isn't happy with resorting to Plan B, however, he's not surprised that Plan A didn't work out. Disappointed, but he knew that it was a long shot getting a Jedi to intervene.

At least Plan B has the benefit of working before, but it will still be a bloodbath. Not even the best of troops can hope to match an armed and trained force user, and it's not vanity when he says that his men are the best.

He felt like a cheat when he had described the plan earlier.

"We lead him to the nearest Vixus."

"You want us to go near one of those things on purpose?"

Rex couldn't blame the men for their incredulity, not after one of the creatures had nearly eaten almost every person in the room only hours before. He's not exactly thrilled at going near the sarlac-like thing either. But they aren't fast enough to take Krell in a fair fight, not with his four lightsabers and absolute willingness to maim anyone in his path. (Too many limbs, too much speed, too little empathy.)

Every word from his lips felt like a lie, a stolen idea that he parroted as his own. In a way, they were. It had been Tup who had thought of using the Vixus to capture Krell, a stroke of genius that had ended a horrific fight, and it grates that Rex can’t give the trooper the recognition he deserves.

"What the Captains trying to say, " Fives chimed in after watching Rex flounder for a moment. "Is that we need this to be on our terms. He's not going to come quietly if he is a traitor."

Rex nodded, both in thanks and in confirmation.

"If you think you have a shot, take it. The faster the fight is over, the better it will be for everyone, but we need to aim to arrest him if possible."

"And if we can't?"

"Have your recorders on and let the bastard incriminate himself."

In true GAR fashion, the plan had spread like wildfire, and soon enough, every last soldier knew their task.

Rex hardly needs to issue the orders, but he does anyway, following the formalities because he knows that, despite what General Skywalker may sometimes claim, appearances and regulations do count.

The ride up the tower is quiet, and from the corner of his eye, Rex can see a few of the younger troops nervously adjust the grip on their blasters. He has to fight the urge to fidget or even reach up and place a hand over his ring, doing his best to project confidence for both the men and himself.

Krell is waiting for them, facing the window, one set of hands clasped behind his back.

"CT-7567, explain yourself."

Rex readies his blasters, switching off the safeties and aims at the Besalisk.

"Pong Krell, you are under arrest for treason against the Grand Army of the Republic and the Galactic State which it serves. Do you comply peacefully?"

Krell turns, malice written in his face and eyes.

"You know, I'm surprised you were able to figure it out for a clone. Tell me, when did you first suspect?"

Rex ignores the question, refusing to be goaded by the man before him any more than he already has.

"Do you comply?" He puts more force into his words than before, using a tone of voice he would never dare to use on a commanding officer.

Krell looks around, almost lazily, and takes in the various troopers - all with blasters pointed his direction – and smiles in a way that is anything but friendly.

"You think you can stop me, Captain? I have trained for more years then you have been alive, and I will not be stopped me some creature bread in a tube."

Without further preamble, Krell pushes out with the Force, sending every trooper slamming into the walls. Those unfortunate enough to have stayed on their feet during the assault are quickly cut down by the blue-green pair of saber staffs, and Rex watches from his place on the ground as the fallen Jedi jumps out the window.

He scrambles to his feet and rushes out the door, brushing past medics on their way in to try and stabilize those they can. He does not envy them their job, one which he knows will only get harder the longer Krell goes unattended to.

The sound of boots fills the night air as soldiers pour from the base and onto the hard pavement of the airfield. Krell is nowhere in sight, but the evidence of his departure lies scattered on the ground.

Passing the bodies that litter the ground outside the airbase doors, Rex has to swallow past the rising bile as he takes in his brothers: some still breathing, others lifeless. He charges on more determined than before, no time to pause the pursuit and tell the living from the dead before crashing into the underbrush.

The forest is quiet and incredibly dark, the helmets night vision thrown off by the red glow of the bioluminescent trees.

"Does anyone have a visual?"

"Negative Captain, he's —"

The sound of a lightsaber crackles through the comms, the distinctive hiss as it cauterizes and cuts, distorted and warped by the tiny speakers.

"You should have kept quiet, Captain."

The back of Rex's neck tingles as Krells' voice echoes around the landscape, seeming to come from all directions, shifting on a nonexistent wind.

"You've led them to slaughter in a fool's errand. I have seen the future Captain, your life, and that of every clone is expendable. You and your so-called brothers: specialized rats bread in a lab for just one reason. The Jedi will fall, and in its place, a new order will rise and rule. Yet you rebel in a misguided notion of liberty, and now your men will pay the price."

Displayed on his hud, Rex can see the blinking light of the recorder, and even though he hopes it won't come to it, they need a back up should Dogma fail to reach General Kenobi. He keeps Krell talking, shouting into the eerie red nothingness, turning all directions in the hopes of catching sight of the six-limbed man.

"You're a Separatist?"

Krell's laugh is merciless.

"Not hardly, I serve none but myself. But soon, I shall reap the rewards, and my new master will grant me a seat of power in the Empire that shall arise."

A twig snaps from somewhere above their heads, and it's all the warning Rex and his men get before Krell is in their midst, dual staffs slashing without remorse, skillfully dodging every shot aimed his way. Rex is too busy firing his blasters, shouting for his men not to get too close, to stay out of lightsaber range, to notice at first. Eventually, he hears the shout of his name, and the Captain spots one of the men signaling to something on the ground roughly fifty yards away. Despite his dread and increasing panic, he grins to himself, and relays the information into the comms, alerting all units to draw Krell his way.

Navigating the vine limbs of the Vixus proves challenging, especially with the Besalisk hot on his tail. He should have known that things were going too smoothly, should have expected that something would go wrong (and it makes him sick to his stomach to think, however briefly, that the death of so many of his brothers is according to plan). When it happens, it stirs up disappointed resignation and panic in equal measure. Time seems to slow as his foot catches on something, and he watches the rapidly approaching ground in horror, twisting at the last second to avoid landing face first atop his blasters.

His blunder is all it takes for Krell to be on him, lightsabers baring down with unnatural swiftness. With the adrenaline coursing through his veins, Rex freezes, and he can feel the heat of the green blade through his neck gasket as it flies toward its target. He should move, or fire a shot -anything- instead, his thoughts drift to Ahsoka.

Her skin set aglow by the light of a dying fire beneath a star-studded sky; dirt-covered and sweaty, kneeling next to him as they sew seeds on Lothal; graceful in battle, twisting through the air, elegant and lethal and incredibly kind.

All at once, the heat from the blade disappears and time reasserts itself, leaving the Captain momentarily disoriented until he can process the slashing of sabers far overhead as Krell battles against the vine wrapped around his waist. There is no time to berate himself for either his blunder or for freezing up, and he shoots to his feet, blasters drawn and firing.

Around him, his men are doing the same, some aiming at Krell while others aim for the flailing arms of the Vixus as it attempts to grab anything within reach. Undercutting the din of battle, Rex can make out the tell-tail click of blasters being switched from stun to kill, can feel the increase of energy electrify the air like an oncoming storm. A shot fires and between one heartbeat and the next, Krell is falling, having managed to sever a limb and free himself.

He hits the ground hard, and the shooting ceases, soldiers approaching with a careful tread, ready for the Besalisk to spring up. Instead, Krell lets out a ragged cough into the dirt, and Rex cautiously approaches, DeeCees at the ready, and carefully rolls the fallen Jedi onto his back. Blood gurgles from Krell's chest where a blaster bolt made its home in a lung, whether intentionally placed or a mistake is unclear and, frankly, Rex doesn’t care.

Krell has moments left, and the Captain is seized with the need to make eye contact with the force user one last time. Slowly, he kneels and pulls off his bucket, taking a moment to make sure he has the Besalisks attention.

"I've lived your future, " he whispers, quiet enough that the various recorders can't pick it up. "It doesn't last."

It is satisfying to watch Krell's face fall as he searches the force, feels the veracity of Rex's statement— Realizes that for all his gifts and abilities, a clone knows more than him. Satisfying to know that its the last thought he will ever have.

Words form on the force users' lips, but all that comes out is a cough followed by a rattling breath and then - nothing.

Everyone is quiet for a moment, as the enormity of what just happened registers with the gathered troops. Some take off their helmets, most simply stare in shock. It doesn’t last long; the area is still a live war zone, and all too soon, the sound of steadily approaching enemy bombardment draws everyone from their stupor.

Rex pulls on his helmet and orders everyone back to base. It takes some time, now that they aren’t running after the Besalisk - longer than it usually would have, considering they are hauling Krell’s corpse and the numerous wounded with them. Some of the men had wanted to leave him where he lay, claim that it had been lost in the darkness and confusion of the planet. But the Captain hadn’t wanted to risk being ordered to send anyone out on a retrieval mission. Didn’t want to risk losing more men over the fallen Jedi.

No one speaks as they trudge through the dark landscape, and in the pressing silence, one thought relentlessly hammers away inside the Captains mind:

What now?

His instincts still tell him that this isn't a dream, and Rex is still inclined to trust them. But with his mind no longer occupied with the survival of his men and himself, the doubts that had reared their head when he had woken have returned. Is this death? If so, what does it mean for him now that Umbara is over? Or if it's a dream? Or, even more daunting, what if it's not? What if, by some insane occurrence, its exactly what he thinks it is?

He’s no closer to an answer by the time they reach the base, and in his meditative state, he almost misses the arrival of General Kenobi’s transport.

“Captain!”

Rex has to work to keep his face impassive, even as he salutes (its a different kind of pain seeing Kenobi again then it was from seeing his brothers. Less piercing, more bittersweet, aching like a day-old bruise that you can’t help touching, just to make sure it's still there).

“General,”

“I would ask what’s so urgent that you would send a trooper to collect me in the middle of a delicate campaign, but your man was very thorough in his explanation.”

Behind the Jedi, Rex can make out Dogma - a little cut up and bloodied but in one piece - side-eyeing the trooper next to him. Rex’s heart stops for a moment as he takes in the distinctive orange paint of his batchmate. He should have known that where General Kenobi goes, Cody would follow, but somehow it hadn’t clicked. (Cody shifts and Dogma nervously straightens. There’s a story there, and Rex resolves to get it later —if there is a later).

If Obi-Wan notices the Captain's momentary discomfort, he doesn't say anything.

“We had hoped that you might have been able to assist us in dealing with Krell.”

“I see.” The Jedi pauses for a moment, taking the time to really look at Rex. His next words are terribly kind, and the clone's heart swells with affection for the man.

“How are your men, Captain?”

He thinks of Dogma, the betrayal and the pain that he knows the rookie must still be dealing with, thinks of his own distress at watching Krell cut down brother after brother and chooses his words carefully, voice low.

“We lost a fair number in the fight, and I think the men are more shaken they would like to admit.”

Obi-wan looks sad at the confession but nods understandingly.

“And Krell?”

“Dead, Sir.”

Someone comes up beside him; he's not sure who, but judging by the sound of the footfalls, he thinks its either Jesse or Fives. Looking confirms that its the former.

“Report?”

“All men accounted for, Sir. Wounded are being taken care of now.”

Rex nods.

“Get some rest; you've all earned it.”

Kenobi waits for Jesse to leave before he picks up the conversation.

“Who fired the shot?”

Truthfully, he doesn’t know. In the chaos and confusion, the blaster fire had blurred together. But it was his mission, his orders that the men followed, his responsibility. His fault.

“I did, sir.”

Obi-Wan sighs, looking pained, and Rex understands. A General is dead, an act that cannot go unseen to, regardless of if the general was corrupt or not —there must be a hearing.

"I'm sorry, Captain, but I'm afraid I have to place you under arrest."

Rex nods solemnly.

Appearances and Regulations, his mind supplies, and as much as he doesn't like it, he would rather it be him who takes the brunt of a Court Marshal than any of his brothers. Something he had taken into account when he had first come up with his plan.

Kenobi nods to one of his men, who steps forward with a pair of cuffs.

"Those won't be necessary, will they Captain?"

Mild amusement flickers through Rex at Obi-Wans tone, and he flashes a brief smirk at the General, who, despite the regret etched on his face, has an answering twinkle of humor in his eyes.

"No, Sir."

The trooper shrugs and puts away the restraining devices then reaches out and relieves the Captain of his DeeCees's, before leading him by the elbow toward the tower and the brig.

Behind him, the General calls out.

“We’ll get you out of this, Rex.”

He doesn't need to ask who “we” is.

----

Despite the exhaustion that has settled in his bones, Rex spends his first hour in the brig with his head in his hands, sedately running them over his buzzed hair. Various people stop by, sometimes offering updates, sometimes to provide words of support. They don’t stay for long, recognizing the fatigue, and leave the clone to himself. As a result, he doesn’t look up right away when he hears a set of boots approaching. What does make him look is the sound of his cell door opening, and he is just in time to see Fives, dressed in his blacks and some of his armor, walk-in before shutting the door.

"Hey, " the goateed man greets, walking over to the bunk and sliding down the cell wall, sitting on the ground.

"Hey." Rex returns.

They sit quietly for a few moments, both worn and weary from the horrors of the past 24 hours, the sound of their breathing echoing slightly off the walls.

"I didn't think anyone was allowed inside the cell."

Fives huffs in what could be amusement.

"I don't think anyone is taking your confinement too seriously after what Krell put us through. Pretty sure they would let you out for a walk as long as you have supervision."

They both laugh without much heart before lapsing back into a silence that seems to be building a soft sort of anticipation — a tension, not unpleasant or overwhelming, but constant and steady. The seconds stretch into minutes, all the while the anticipation builds, culminating in a sigh from Fives.

"I believe you."

Rex, arms resting on his legs, looks at his little brother.

"I can't explain it, but —” the ARC trooper shakes his head as if doing so will set his thoughts straight — “you know things. Things you shouldn't have been able to know. And I can't put my finger on it, but you're different, smile more but at the same time are so...sad."

He looks at Rex.

"And I don't know what it is or what it could be, but we've seen some crazy shit together. Dying and coming back to the past is as good an explanation as any. So, I believe you."

Rex doesn't know what to say, doesn't think they are words in basic or mando'a that can encapsulate the affection and love he feels for his brother. He settles for a smile, and it's probably wan and maybe a little teary, but he hopes it can say what he can't.

"Thank you." He tries, and the ARC Trooper nods, smiling back.

Fives eyes catch on something on Rex's person, and the blonde watches as his brother's face goes from understanding to curious.

"What have you got there?"

Rex looks down and sees his wedding band, still attached to the chain, in his hand. It's an old habit, fiddling with it when thinking or just bored, and he hadn't realized he'd started playing with it until his brother had pointed it out.

"Is that a ring?" Fives sounds positively gleeful, and he pulls himself up onto the cot, seating himself practically in Rex's lap to get a better look.

"It is!"

"Get off–!"

It takes some effort, removing Fives from his lap, and it almost dumps both of them on the floor in the process. In the end, they both stay on the bed, Fives leaning far too close into Rex's personal space.

"I didn't think you were the jewelry type."

"For the right person, I am."

He's said too much if the unholy grin spreading across his brother's face is any indicator. He would be more upset at his slipup, if it weren't for the matching grin, he can feel on his own face and the lightness in his heart he hadn't expected to feel for weeks.

"What kind of person could be crazy enough to catch your eye?"

"Watch your tongue, that's my wife you're talking about."

Fives' face is priceless as he processes Rex's words and their implications, and Rex can't help himself. The laughter that bubbles out of him feels both freeing and wrong; Wrong after all that happened, when so many of his brothers lay dead, after so much loss; Freeing, to know that he still can, that despite everything he did, Krell couldn't take this from him.

And he knows his vod'ika has a million questions, can see them flitting about behind golden eyes. He prepares himself for the onslaught when Fives opens his mouth, only for the question to be transformed into a jaw cracking yawn.

Rex shakes his head, amused and fond.

"Get some sleep, Fives."

His brother looks like he's about to protest when a second yawn overcomes him and grudgingly concedes the point.

Fives stands, one finger pointed at Rex.

"I want answers.”

"Later, " Rex promises, all but shoving his brother out of the cell. "Sleep well, Vod."

The door closes with an electric hum, and Rex makes his way back to the bunk.

Exhaustion claims him the second his head touches the pillow, and all too soon, he finds himself falling asleep.

He keeps falling...

Falling...

Falling...

Falling through blood and death, the noise of battle raging around him. It is a kaleidoscope of sound and color, screams, and blasters blurring together until it's impossible to tell the sound of his voice apart from the bark of his DeeCees. Through it all, he spirals from battle to battle: the heat and sand of Geonosis, his armor still unpainted and new; to the frozen moon of Pantora, snow gear frosted over and growing heavier with each passing minute; the choking taste of the Blue Shadow Virus, each breath harder to take than the last, until all at once, his feet hit the deck, sending shock racing up his calves and spine.

The ambient noise of the star destroyer is defining after the chaos of the battles, the hum of hyperspace hardy even background to the ringing in his ears.

He can hear himself speaking, but it's without his permission, his words and actions separate from his thoughts.

“Yes, Lord Sidious.”

No, his mind screams, and within the confines of his own body, he rails against the inhibitor chip. No, he screams as the doors open, and he pulls out his blasters, leveling them at the young and confused face of Ahsoka Tano. He fights harder, thrashing against the walls of his skin, will be damned if he lets the order take him without a fight. Find him. Find him. Fives. Find him! FIVES!

Its a battle unlike any other, waged against himself, the most important in his life. But he cannot hold out, cannot win, and at the end of things, he fails. Mind exhausted and worn, he loses what little control he had scraped together, pulls the trigger. The programming takes over, and Rex can do nothing but watch as he and his men fire volley after volley at the former Jedi. Locked in the deepest corner of his own mind, he can only pray that they don’t find her as they comb the ship. Silently weeps when she steps out, distracted from the droids behind him long enough for the electricity to coarse through his body - vision going white.

The light spreads, at first cold and sharp, but soon enough gives way to the soft yellow glow of the morning sun filtered through closed eyes.

He's roused by the sensation of fingers lazily dancing over an exposed hip.

"Morning."

Her voice is light and playful, and he takes a moment to grin into the pillow before opening his eyes and looking behind him.

In the light of dawn, with the sheets pooled around her waist and sleep shirt slipping down one shoulder, she looks like an angel: her blue eyes sparkle, and the sound of birds caries through the open window.

"Morning."

He rolls over to face her, and she combs her fingers through his beard, eliciting a smile at the sensation.

“We slept in, didn’t we?” his voice rumbles in his chest. Beside him, Ahsoka hums, lips pulled up in a grin. There is a glint of mischief in her eyes that holds the promise of something more, coy and inviting, and no small amount exciting.

"Just a little."

“Then we better get up,”

He can’t hide the smile in his voice, but two can play at this game. Rex sits up and makes a show of stretching - careful not to look at her or else lose his resolve- and he can feel her eyes on him, searing into his skin. In his mind's eye, he pictures her smile growing, teeth bared, and cheeks dimpled. A quick peak confirms his suspicion.

“Long day ahead of us, can’t start if we’re still in bed.”

She slides up next to him, turning his face toward hers with a delicate finger, one of her white eyebrow marks raised in challenge.

"Is that so?"

Her grin is infectious as she settles herself across his hips in a fluid motion, her head tails swaying with the movement. He brings both hands up to her waist both to steady her and to hold her close, thumbs running gentle circles over ochre skin.

"Prove it, Captain."

She leans in and kisses him, slow and deep, and he lets his hands wander underneath her shirt. Over soft skin and up, following the dips and curves of her body, feeling the strength hidden there. Her hands wander in turn, roaming over his chest and arms, slipping under the waistband of his sleep pants. He can feel her tremble oh so slightly under his touch, muscles coiled with anticipation. It spurs his hands higher, fingertips ghosting over sensitive flesh, cupping a -

A loud bang jolts him into consciousness, and Rex instinctively reaches for the warm body that should be there with him. Instead, his hands find nothing but air, and it takes him a moment to process the too harsh lighting and hard metal bunk, the hum of the energy shield that separates his cell from the rest of the room.

For the second time in as many days, Rex's mind must grapple with waking up after expecting to never do so again. But for the first time, he has more than an instinct or a gut feeling to go off of. He's in the same room, the same place as he remembers last being, has two sets of memories for how yesterday went down, and it pushes the few doubts he had left about his reality from his mind.

The future as he remembers it plays out in his mind's eye, and the question from earlier pushes to the forefront:

What now?

[auskultu]

Yardbird Jimmy Page says, 'Open Your Mind'

Hit Parader magazine: WHEN YOU were a session man, were you playing bass or lead guitar?

Jim: Lead guitar.

HP: Was it difficult to switch to bass when you joined the Yardbirds?

Jim: It was at first because I tended to play it like a guitar. With the bass you just play a sort of root thing. I was just leaping around all over the place with great speed and I had to stop doing that. I managed to simplify it. But at first I was playing far too quickly.

HP: I read somewhere that you were going to play lead soon?

Jim: I already have because Jeff was taken ill. Chris took over bass.

HP: Who were some of the other people you have accompanied?

Jim: Them, the Kinks, Georgie Fame, I did some stuff for the Rolling Stones. Actually, we just did a lot of things for fun for Andrew Oldham. In fact, it really was good fun. But I've never been on any of their records. I was on the Who stuff. Petula Clark, P.J. Proby. Nearly everybody who didn't have their own backup group.

HP: How would you describe your style of guitar playing?

Jim: My style has always been very similar to Jeff Beck's. We knew each other for about 9 years. We've always liked the same music and we had the same tastes. As a result, it's been quite easy to fill in for him. When we get the two lead guitars going, it should be pretty good. Because it'll be like two identical people playing together.

HP: What's your opinion of the Paul Butterfield Blues Band?

Jim: I haven't seen them live. But their album is pretty good. As a harp player, Butterfield is really great. He's better than anybody in England. Lots of people speak of Mike Bloomfield, but there are a lot of guys in England who play that stuff.

HP: Beck is an excellent guitarist, but why isn't more of his solo work heard on records?

Jim: How far can you go? We've been told our latest album is too far advanced. There's too much electronic stuff on it. But I think it's all basic. We cut a single with Jeff. It's a Bolero thing. It's very exciting and strange. It's either going to be a monster or a bomb. It's an instrumental based on the classical Bolero piece. Beck's guitar-playing is exploited quite a bit there. But how much can you do that the public will accept? You either make a commercial record or a musicians' record. You've got to draw the line somewhere.

HP: Are there some good blues bands in England?

Jim: There's one called John Mayall's Blues Breakers. Mayall himself is terrible. And then Eric Clapton is good, but he's in the Mike Bloomfield bag, and that's that. And there are lots of good guitarists in minor bands.

HP: Would you say blues is still a big rage in England?

Jim: No, not really. It's still got a market; it's the same thing as in America.

HP: Are you basically a blues guitarist?

Jim: Before the Indian thing was exploited, everyone said I played like an Indian. Mainly because I was interested in the music so many years back. I had the albums and I sent to India for a sitar. I had one long before George Harrison. I tried to learn the actual classical music. It's very difficult. There are so many sides to it. I tried to adapt that to my guitar playing.

HP: Why have musicians latched on to these Indian sounds?

Jim: Because it's so esoteric. Everybody thinks they understand. They get a new sound and they say this is it. But really, they don't know what's going on, I'm sure. I've heard people in groups playing sitars and they don't know what's going on. They don't even tune them up right. Apparently, George Harrison has become deeply interested in it. He plays a sitar on their new album and he was getting along very well. People like Brian Jones just got it for the one record and I doubt if they'll ever use it again.

HP: There are a lot of Indians living in London, aren't there?

Jim: Yes, there are quite a few. Strangely enough, when you speak to them of Indian music, they don't seem to know anything about it. The only thing they know is the western music or the Indian film music, which is completely different from the classical. When you ask them about it, they recommend you to the Asian society or something. I met Ravi Shankar and that's how I got my information on how to tune up the sitar.

HP: Will you be writing material for the Yardbirds now?

Jim: With them, not for them. When one of us has an idea, we all chip in on it until it's finished. I wasn't on the last two, but 'Shapes of Things' and 'Over, Under, Sideways, Down' were all made up in the studio.

HP: What kind of equipment do you use?

Jim: When Chris is on rhythm guitar, we use any old amplifier because it isn't that important, but on bass we have a big set-up with 2 or 3 speakers.

On this tour, we've been given Jordan equipment. It's all transistorized equipment. We're sort of experimenting with it. It hasn't worked out properly on the lead guitars. But it's been sufficient on the bass. On bass, we've got 6 speakers to 8 speakers. In England I've been using a Showman Fender amplifier. And a Fender concert amp which is a smaller one with 4 ten-inch speakers. I link them up together so I get double the power. Through one you get the bass frequencies and through the other I use feedback and the treble frequencies. This is about the best set-up I've had so far. But Jordan is working on some new equipment which should prove to be great. I play a Gibson Les Paul guitar, Chris has an Epiphone bass and there's another Gibson floating around. Eventually, it will be all Gibson because we bought them and never bothered to change them. They're quite adequate.

HP: How did you finally end up with the equipment you've got now?

Jim: We just worked on it. I've been playing guitar for a few years now and I just work on this certain line. You do as best you can. The only problem being we blow up quite a few amps. We did one show and I had 4 amplifiers all linked up. It must have been about 400 watts all together. Those were Vox amps. They just can't take the volume. The speakers blow and then you don't get any sound at all. The Jordan ones didn't blow up, but they don't have enough volume. I've never broken a guitar, but I've been through nearly every make. I've never found a guitar which is exactly what I want. At the moment, I'm happy with this Gibson. I've also got a Fender Telecaster. I find every guitar's got a sound of its own and you can use them all and get something out of them. I haven't used the Telecaster on stage yet. Actually, all my guitars are in England because I came over playing bass. I switched to Jeff's guitar. His is very close to mine because they're both Les Paul models. Normally, we all travel by plane and the equipment goes by van. We have two road managers, one for the equipment and one for us.

HP: Have you found a big difference in British youth and American youth?

Jim: The Americans are a little more narrow-minded. The English, at the moment, are completely broad-minded. This wasn't the original concept of the English, was it? You can shock people in America very easily. If people are shocked, that's their bad luck. They should open their minds. In England, you could walk around in the nude and you wouldn't shock anyone. They'd think you should be put away, but they wouldn't beat the guts out of you. Also, the age of consent is 16. You can marry at 16. The attitude over there is completely free, just like the attitude toward clothes.

HP: Are you really that concerned about how you look?

Jim: I'm not really concerned with clothes. People put that on my shoulders. In actual fact, I'm pleased to see people walking around in outrageous things. They're throwing off the chains of a society that was. It's probably making England completely decadent, but so what. Billy Graham was just over there in England and if you walked around with him, you'd have seen it look all pretty decadent. I'd have to agree. He didn't make any impact at all. Actually, it's a forecast of the end of society. But I don't care because I'll be dead before it ends. If we've come this far in five years, it should really be something in another five. I'd like the new society to be a peaceful one but it won't be, because violence seems to be the answer to every problem. Every fringe society must be experiencing this. We walk around with long hair and someone shouts something, so you give them an answer back which is a little sharp and which they don't quite expect. Then they can't give you an answer, so they come to fists. What sort of mentality is that? I can't argue with a person like that.

It must be terrible for someone to have to fight in a war. I haven't had to think about wars. It's just something I haven't had to contend with, really, I hadn't realized what a big problem it is. I've just seen the horrors of it.

HP: Well, England doesn't have any big thing going now.

Jim: No, this is it. We have no conscription whatsoever. I'll never be drafted or anything.

HP: They won't send you over to Africa to beat up some people or anything?

Jim: Well, they don't do this. People wouldn't do this. If they had a mass conscription now, I dread thinking how many people would go. Because it would only be 40% of those who would have gone before they dropped conscription. People don't want to know about it anymore. They think, well, why should I waste two years of my life and probably lose my life in the process. They just don't want to know anymore.

They've got a regular army where you join and you jet paid every week for doing it. And you just do maneuvers and things.

HP: They have that here, too!

Jim: Yeah, sure, but yours is more of a reality because they get drafted over to Viet Nam. Basically, I must be a coward, but I just couldn't shoot someone. I guess it's different if they're looking at you with a gun and you're looking at them with a gun. You'd have to do it, though. I'd just be violently sick afterwards. I'd never forgive myself, anyway. I'm not the sort of person who's the violent type. I've never never had a fight in my life. I've never put my fists up to anybody. I've never needed to. Only, as I say, through the long hair problem people have said things. But it's never developed. Even if you say come on then, they still won't do anything. Basically, they've still got no guts. But even if they did, I'd run a mile. It's funny because you think, well, what are they going to do, and they don't do anything. So they just wasted the whole time laughing at you. Perhaps they just laugh to reassure their own masculinity.

HP: Why do you think there's such a big concern with clothes?

Jim: I don't know. It's a projection of one's character, I suppose.

HP: Is Carnaby Street a real madhouse?

Jim: It's so easy to send that Carnaby Street thing up. It really is. It's really a street with lots and lots of clothing shops. It's quite a revelation if you've never seen anything like it before, and I'm sure nobody over here has. There's nothing like that. It's just teen-age fashions, bizarre styles. You go there on a Saturday and the kids are there spending money. This is all part of the game, I suppose. Yeah, they spend a fortune on clothes. I don't know where some of the young ones get it from. You see them walking around and they must have spent twice what they've earned.

HP: Do they have things like charge accounts over there?

Jim: No. Not on Carnaby Street, anyway. They won't take checks or anything, not from the kids. Not unless they know you. But there is a big leaning towards clothes and fashions. It's an extension of their character. People have become more aware of the fact that, if they dress up and they look really elegant, I'm not saying Carnaby Street, but if they've got a very clean-cut suit on and still look pretty hip with it and not just sort of middle class, it has the affect on a girl.

HP: What's the biggest thing you dislike about America?

Jim: You see, the only thing that I've seen is violence, but I've only been doing concerts. I don't get out to walk around and meet people very often. If I was walking around the street, I probably wouldn't see any violence whatsoever. So, it's difficult. You see, I haven't seen much of America on this tour. But, when I had my holidays before in Hollywood, I enjoyed it. I thought it was great.

HP: You spent your holiday in Los Angeles?

Jim: Before I joined the group, I spent my holidays for the last couple of years in Hollywood.

HP: What are some of the things you enjoyed in Hollywood?

Jim: The weather. The weather's pretty bad in England. I met quite a few people and made some good friends. I liked the Sunset Strip; there's quite a bit happening there. I got to see groups I could never see in England.

HP: If you had a choice, where would you like to live?

Jim: Miles away from anybody. That's what I'm going to do when I get back. I'm buying a house. It's about a half a mile from anybody else. It's got a river, five bedrooms. That's for when the group slows down a bit. But we'll be working hard for the next year. There's so many things I'd like to do that I don't have the time for now. Things which are very important to me, like painting. But it's best to work now and make all the money I can.

HP: What kind of books do you like to read?

Jim: I used to study religion when I was in art school. But I stopped.

HP: Was that how you got interested in Indian music?

Jim: It may have been subconsciously. But I didn't just read about it and then go onto it. At the moment, I read sort of very strange things like I, Jan Cramer. Things which are a social comment. This Cramer is a beat painter in Holland. I like Henry Miller, too.