#girl’s up against a whole ass corporation they’re going to pull strings

[mapsareforbraindeads]

honestly illit makes good music. you guys just like jumping on hate trains

[cloudbattrolls]

Aftermath

Chimer Latrai | Civitrecce | Present Night

The fuchsia blearily wiped her eyes as she looked down on the city. There hadn’t been too many deaths, somehow...but the property damage was colossal, and it hadn’t just been corporate office buildings. Regular neighborhoods had been torched by pyrokinesis or knocked over by telekinetics too. 

Her ship thrummed with solar power as it hovered in place, and she looked at the security screens to see how her bunch of trolls was doing.

A lot of them were hers - support staff, local experts, her intel crew, Amdzah and a few of her other guards - but some were trolls she’d grabbed off the streets, sometimes without asking if a giant chunk of debris had been headed their way.

Unfortunately, most of the powerful highbloods had been transportalized or otherwise spirited away to safety, safe in emergency bunkers as the city burned and broke.

She had no word on where Cherie was, but whatever, as long as the little shit was keeping their head down. If she was really lucky, someone had culled them for her.

Tabula...what had happened to the maroon? Would she have taken a bargain with a worm god or wish dragon? Could they even affect her, empty of desire unless she chose otherwise?

“Miss Latrai, there’s something here for you in the entry bay.”

A voice spoke through the ship’s intercom. 

“Mmmwhat?” yawned the seadweller, shaken from her reverie. “It better not be another glitter bo -” 

“Hello, Chimer.”

She sat bolt upright as another voice came through the speaker.

“Whatthefuck.”

“It’s good to see you too. Come and say hello. It’s been a while.”

The fuchsia was dazed, blinking in disbelief, but she checked to make her trident was the top of her sylladex before she took the elevator down to the bay. 

Her poor attendant looked terrified, ears pinned back as lines of lime energy glowed around them, restraining them.

The fuchsia raised an eyebrow as she took in the woman - android, technically, from the sheen of the false skin and the purple joins - casually lounging on the couch nearby, looking perfectly unconcerned.

“Blanca. Wassup. Why’sup.”

The woman smiled.

“They tried to disable me. Not that I have an open switch for that - that’d be silly. What an obvious weakness.”

“Was she being spooky?” Chimer addressed the brownblood, who looked like they’d rather be anywhere else.

“I didn’t know she could speak on her own.” They whispered. “I thought she was just a messenger robot, and she was malfunctioning…”

The politician snapped her fingers.

“Yeah, about that, how did you get here? This ship has all incoming transmissions and transportalizations monitored and held until they’re screened. I know I’m not the most tech savvy person, but I have people who are, and I didn’t even get a ping. How?”

Blanca merely pressed a finger to her lips and smiled.

“All in good time, Chimer. I’m here to help.”

“I’ll have an easier time swallowing that if you let...uh...what’s your name, kid?”

“Benzen, ma’am.”

“If you let Benny here go. Try not to creep everyone out, capiche?”

The woman waved her hand dismissively, and the brownblood made themself scarce as the energy dissipated.

Chimer sighed, sitting down on the couch opposite her old...acquaintance? Former friend? Ex? Whatever.

“First Cherie, then you. I thought we were all gonna go our separate ways after the last bunch of nonsense.”

“What do you have against me, Chimer? We all worked together against Echthros.”

The seadweller snorted.

“You made that problem in the first place by stealing my powers, then making me forget about it. Zelaya gave me the dirt, y’know.”

A flash of guilt and then anger darkened the woman’s face before she sighed, the noise strange from a body that didn’t have real lungs. It sounded like a recording. Maybe it was.

“I made some mistakes, but are you really going to hold all that against me? It was a long time ago, even for you. Certainly for me. I was just a girl.”

Chimer snorted and held up a hand.

“A girl who profited off the plague, cursed her kismesis, tried to rewrite history, killed her lusus in return for shapeshifting powers, and raised the dead. Yeah, don’t even try.”

The fuchsia counted down fingers as she rattled off her list, and the android laughed.

“I was wild then, wasn’t I?” She remarked in a fond voice. “But those nights are behind me. I don’t have necromantic powers anymore  - this body can’t use them, even if I had my bells.”

“The constructs are new, though.”

The android let some lime sparks dance across her palms.

“Aren’t they fun? One of the nice things about technology.”

“Srevni sure left you some toys, huh.”

The android’s glowing eyes narrowed as the fuchsia smiled sardonically.

“So she survived after all. Where is she hiding?”

“They’re just dandy, and I’m not telling you.”

Her fists clenched, her ears flicking back and forth. Chimer held the silence, staring resolutely with her arms crossed.

Blanca looked away first.

“I know what Coloth is up to.”

“Way ahead of you, already had someone retrieve that info. Was about to use it against him when the monsters hit and everything went cuckoo.”

Her smile was back.

“So you don’t know.”

“Be straight with me or clear off, Blanca, I have too many other things I could be doing right now.”

“So responsible.” She said, teasingly, crossing her legs together. “Don’t you ever miss what we got up to? Sneaking around behind the church’s backs, taking down the highblood mages? Not having to answer to anyone?”

“Sure. You know what else I miss? Being able to trust you wouldn’t wipe my memories.”

“I can’t now.” She pointed out acidly. “So will you listen to me and stop bringing up the past?”

The taller woman leaned back, folding her hands behind her head.

“Go for it, then.”

“You might know Coloth’s plans to mass market the shapeshifting psi in containers for helming purposes, but after the monster incident you needed seeker tech from him for? He had a new idea: acquiring all of Civitrecce’s surveillance for himself. Putting down every single rebel in their own hive.”

The fuchsia’s fins rippled in amusement.

“He want to buy me a whole moon while he’s at it? That’s impossible, he’d have to fight so many legal battles the teals would own his ass for the next five hundred sweeps.”

The former undead pressed the tips of her fingers together, lips pulled back. 

“That would be true...if the Empire wasn’t looking for people they could pawn off the city’s reconstruction on. They’re willing to promise the lowest bidder anything if they can clean up the mess.”

Chimer swore. That sounded way too likely to be true - she’d verify it, but her news people had probably already at least heard rumors.

“I can’t interfere with that.” She said, dragging a hand down her face. “That’s technically private business. On paper, politicians are supposed to stay out of it.”

“Why do you play their game, Chimer? The system is already corrupt. You’re not holding any moral ground by going along with it when no one else bothers.”

“‘Cause go shove your face in a beaky mask again, that’s why.”

The android blinked.

“If you can’t understand why I do things this way, I’m not gonna bother going into it. What do you want, anyway? I know darn well you didn’t poof yourself here just to warn me about Coloth.”

“What I’ve always wanted, Chimer. I want my people to be free.”

“I can’t turn back time anymore, even if I wanted to. The clock’s gone, and if a single limeblood has survived this city, I’ll be surprised. You’re in the wrong place.”

The woman’s glowing eyes briefly flash in strings of code. 

“There’s a lot you don’t know about Civitrecce, Chimer. A lot I can tell you, if you accept my help.”

“‘Kay. What’s your price?”

“Cherie dead, at some point. Doesn’t have to be now. I’m sure you’ve longed to get rid of them yourself. Have you realized why they’re dogging your steps yet?”

The fuchsia looked at her nails, bored.

“They inherited a weird jealousy complex from their ancestor? Yeah, been there seen that. It’s annoying, they’re annoying, I have more important things to worry about.”

The elder Rincon leaned forward, studying the fuchsia with a gaze that was slightly uncomfortable in its intensity.

“Stop staring at me with them big ol’ eyes. What.”

“Just wanted to make sure you believed that.”

“You’re the liar liar stake on fire, not me.”

The former undead scowled.

“Too soon?” said Chimer innocently. 

“Don’t joke about how I died.”

“Don’t zap energy around people for being scared of your weird metal ass and we’ve got a deal.”

Some sort of malicious feeling flicked across the woman’s face, the purple markings above her eyes slightly eerie in their glowing light.

“As you like.” She said, tone neutral. 

Chimer decided not to go there. Blanca was a grown adult, even if she didn’t look it, and she wasn’t stupid enough to try to stab the fuchsia in the back on her own ship. She’d have her staff keep an eye on her - that’d be enough for now.

“Anywho, make yourself at hive. I dunno what you use for energy, but feel free to take it. I’m tired, we can trade more deets later. Here, have a welcoming present.”

Rummaging in her sylladex, the fuchsia took out an old necklace, tarnished with time - but the carvings on the strung bones were still visible, abstract swirls of fae and animals in an endless dance.

Blanca almost didn’t catch it, so surprised was she when her old friend tossed it to her.

“You kept it?” She said in a voice that was almost a whisper.

“‘Course. Things can be good again, you know. Stop plotting all the time, it won’t kill - okay, it did, my bad with the stake thing before, but things can be better. If you try. That’s why I do what I do, y’know.”

“...do you not want it anymore?” 

She clutched the necklace as if it were a lifeline.

“Nah, we can share. Just figured you’d like to see it.”

The limeblood - she had once been lime, long ago when she’d been alive - nodded. 

“Help me put it on?”

The politician blinked. All right then.

“Sure.”

She walked over, bent down on one knee, and fastened it around the much shorter woman’s slender neck. It was amazing, really, how well her current form mimicked her original one - if a lot smoother and cleaner. Blanca had always been covered in small scars when she’d been alive - from fights, from plague, because she’d tried some new necromancy experiment that tried to take a bite out of her. 

Chimer got up again, making finger guns as she stepped back to face her new guest.

“Ta da.”

“Thank you.”

“Any time. I do need sleep though, it’s almost dawn. Light light.”

“Light, Chimer.”

When she slept, the fuchsia dreamt of long ago, when a girl with white hair had offered her a way forward. Even if they had to rip it from everyone more powerful.

She dreamt of stolen things, of a clock that never stopped ticking, and realizing quite by accident, that she’d been in love.

[catsundercherryblossoms]

A Christmas Kiss// HFP special ❣️🎄

Summary: The 104th cadets have a little celebration… a little too much celebration.

*Note: You don’t have to read my series/fic to understand this. It can be read as a stand-alone Eren x OC imagine. For those of you who have read HFP, this takes place somewhere between chapters 2-3* 

And of course, I’m late for everything, so I do apologize that its already been 3 days after Christmas... oops!

Happy reading (:

//Christmas morning//

“So… what do you want for Christmas, Jo?” Reiner asked.

We were sat at the lunchroom, in the middle of breakfast. I looked up from my porridge and raised an eyebrow. “Isn’t it too late to be asking that?”

Reiner shrugged. “Eh, I can still pull some strings. Just tell me what you want.”

“Some peace of mind.” I put simply. The idea of people getting me a gift was… weird. This has got to be the first time someone proposed getting me something for a special occasion. Jean is the only person to have made such a gesture like that in the past. Usually for Christmas or Valentine’s day, he’d make me a flower crown out of random wildflowers he’d find around town. Back then we were kids and we couldn’t afford anything better. I loved each and every one he made for me, though. Then, of course, we signed up for the cadet corps, and he hasn’t done it ever since.

Point is, I don’t know how to accept kind gestures from people.

Reiner waved me off and turned to Annie. The kind of wave that hints he’s not ready to give up yet. “What about you, Annie?”

She didn’t even look at him. “For Christmas?”

“Yeah.”

“I want you to stop being a—“

BANG! The doors flew open, slamming against the walls.

“Ho, ho, ho!” A woman I’d never seen before in my life strolled in. Everyone’s eyes were on her, confused. She wore glasses, carried a large red sack over her shoulder, and walked forwards with a bounce in her step.

I didn’t know who she was. I just knew it was too early for someone to be this cheerful.

“Hello, cadets! Wow, good turnout this year. Lots of fresh faces!” She said loudly, “I’m Hanji Zoe, a squad leader in the brave and mighty Survey Corps! I’m sure you’ve heard of them.”

“We’ve heard the death rates.” Someone— probably Jean— mumbled a few tables away.

She either didn’t hear him or decided to ignore it. She continued like nothing, “Anyway, I’ll be Santa Claus this year. I’ve got hand-knitted gifts for each of you to keep you warm! But first, I’ll be introducing you to my elves!”

“Elves?” I muttered. No offense to this lady, but it doesn’t take an idiot to know this was all a publicity stunt to promote the Survey Corps and get us interested in joining them. It’s like luring a baby with candy. Except the candy is death. And babies don’t like death.

“C’mon!” She beckoned to a presence outside, which turned out to be four people. They were dressed in elf costumes, the tips of their floppy hats jingling with a shiny gold bell. What was priceless was their faces. It was blatantly obvious that they didn’t want to be here.

Snickers spread across room. I heard Jean wheezing and banging his fist on the table.

“This is Eld, Gunther, Oluo, and Petra.” The lady, Hanji, indicated to each as she said their name. She then turned to us with an exaggerated pout. “Humanity’s Strongest, also known as Corporal Levi, was supposed to be here today but I’m afraid he couldn’t show up because of unexpected paperwork—“

“He didn’t come cause he didn’t care.” Oluo interrupted dryly.

“Shhh, you sourpuss! They don’t need to know tha—“

“Hanji,” Gunther said, nodding towards us as a whole. “They’re waiting.”

“Oh, right.” She set down the red sack and opened it. “Presents!”

Hanji and her four elves went around the lunchroom giving out presents, which consisted of mittens, scarves, and sweaters. Oh and you could tell they were hand-knitted, alright. They were lumpy, deformed, and the sweaters were especially scratchy. Some thought the gesture was cute, others held their items awkwardly like they didn’t know what to do with them, and others excused themselves from the table before the elves could get to them.

Hey, I’m not one to let myself be buttered up this way, but I at least pretended to be listening while Hanji listed out the “benefits” of joining the Survey Corps. Stuff like “you’ll be fighting for humanity” and “helping create a better future”, completely skidding around the fact that you’re most likely going to die while doing it.

Needless to say, Eren was the first to put his sweater on. What a tool...

“Well? What are you waiting for?” Reiner said once I had received my sweater, wrapping his own blue scarf around his brawny neck. He obviously thought this was very funny.

“Not a chance.” I said, holding the sweater in my lap. It was three sizes too big and a blinding red, with gold accents. I’d look like a ridiculous ornament in it.

“Oh, don’t be like that. Pleeaaasee? For me? Look, Bert’s got his mittens on.”

I looked at Bert, who was currently —and nervously— trying to free a finger he had gotten caught in the stitching.

“Annie, where’s your scarf?” Reiner asked, trying to find a good example.

“I fed it to Sasha.”

“What? Sasha doesn’t eat— you know what, never mind. I wouldn’t be surprised...” Reiner shook his head, turning to me again. “C’mon Jo. Have a little Christmas spirit.”

“I think that’s asking for too much. We both sold our souls.” Annie said, giving me a subtle wink.

I looked at Reiner helplessly. “She’s not wrong.”

“Heh.” Someone scoffed behind me.

Ugh, what now? I turned around and saw none other than Eren Jaeger, looking down at me in disapproval. He folded his arms over his chest stuffily. “I can’t believe someone can be so arrogant as to not accept a gift.“

By now, Hanji and her Survey Corps elves had packed up and left unnoticed.

“Who says I’m rejecting it? I just don’t want to wear it right now.” I said irritatedly. God, he had a talent for getting on my nerves.

He wasn’t buying it. “Oh please,” he said exasperatedly, “there’s no need for charades. Just admit you and Jeanie-boy have a superiority complex.”

“Hey!” Jean perked up.

That’s it. I slammed my hands on the table, getting up. “You got a problem, Jaeger?”

“Only with stuck-up people who worship the military police!” He fired back.

I stepped closer, not fazed by the fact that he was a foot taller. “I’ll beat up your ass one more time, suicidal blockhead.”

“Is that so, egotistical midget?”

“What will it take for you to believe me?”

“I don’t know— prove it!”

“Fine!” I took the damn sweater and pulled it over my head, letting it drape down to my knees. By now the whole lunchroom was watching as I angrily stepped onto my chair to gain some height, facing him smugly, itchy and with hair all ruffled from static. “There. Happy now?”

One giggle. Two giggles. Next thing I know everyone is gushing, saying stuff like awwww and so cute! I looked around in disgust. Do they think this is amusing? What the fuck am I, some kind of baby zoo animal?

Eren just stared at me in surprise, mouth agape. Strangely enough... a blush tinted his cheeks.

Don’t tell me... ugh, not him too.

I rolled my eyes and took off the sweater, balling it up and throwing it back on the table. How embarrassing.

The doors flew open again. “Alright, you maggots!” Instructor Shadis said, “Out on the courtyard! FIFTY LAPS!”

Everyone started streaming out the door, making noises of complaint. Eren walked away without another word and I did too, heading out with Annie by my side.

“Say goodbye to people taking you seriously as a soldier.” Annie smirked.

I groaned, knowing she was right.

*

*

*

//Later that night//

We waited anxiously for Sasha to come back. Connie chewed his nails, probably planning out his eulogy for his friend’s funeral, which was sure to happen if she got caught.

We didn’t think it was possible, but Sasha actually managed to come up with her stupidest idea yet. This exceeded all her other stupid moments, including eating a potato in front of the Instructor’s face. The girl manages to beat her own record every day.

Sasha proposed we stay up past curfew and have a festive gathering in the girls dormitory. Oh, and steal a liquor bottle from Instructor Shadis’s office. Everyone tried to convince her to calm down, but she was dead set on us having some holiday fun, so she went ahead and left on a mission to get that liquor.

It’s been fifteen minutes since then. And here we are, already mourning.

The boys were here too. Those who were invited made the brave journey and, surprisingly, did not get caught by the Instructor’s nightly patrol. Who were they exactly? Bertholdt, Reiner, Marco, Connie, Jean, Armin, and... Eren freaking Jaeger.

I didn’t look at him and he didn’t look at me. It was better that way.

We heard footsteps and a light knock on the door. If it’s the Instructor... we’re all in deep shit. Nobody moved, nobody breathed. Mikasa carefully pushed aside the curtain and peered through the window. “She’s back.”

Connie and Krista scrambled towards the door, unlocking it and opening it wide for Sasha. The brunette walked in casually as though she had just gotten back from a midnight stroll. She smirked and raised the liquor bottle high and proud for us all to see. Several people whooped and cheered. Annie and I just shared glances. Well... at least she was safe.

Sasha popped the cork off the bottle. “Who’s up for a round of truth or dare?”

//One Hour Later//

What started out as one round turned into seven rounds. Everyone seemed to be enjoying the game. Me, not so much. Watching other people enjoy the game was good enough entertainment for me, but I refused to participate and get dared to lick the bottom of my shoe, or worse, lick somebody. So I remained comfortably nearby with Annie and Mikasa, watching people make fools of themselves, taking a swig of the raunchy liquor whenever the bottle was passed around.

“Truth or Dare, Ymir.”

“Truth.”

“Is it true you like girls?”

“... Do ya’ll hear sumthin?”

That night was the night I discovered I could handle alcohol with no problem.

It was also the night I discovered Eren is a lightweight.

“My turn,” He hiccuped. “Truth or dare.”

“No, Eren. We ask you truth or dare.”

“Oh yeah.”  

Eventually, we moved on to a game of spin the bottle, seeing as some people kept mixing up truths and dares. This one I was forced to sit through. Literally. Sasha forced me to sit in a circle with them and we spun the bottle. Fifteen minutes in, and everyone had kissed or slapped pretty much everyone. Except me. Luck appeared to be on my side because the bottle hadn’t landed on me once. Thank goodness...

“There it goes...” Connie said as he spun the bottle.

The bottle slowed down to a stop, pointing towards Eren and Jean.

“Alright, Jean.” Connie yawned. We were all getting tired. “You have to slap Eren. Or kiss... you know, whatever you’re into.”

“Gladly.” Jean said and he pulled back his sleeve, about to swing.

Realizing he was a little too enthusiastic, it took a few of us to hold him back, and so we skipped them and spun the bottle again. This time it landed....

You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.

“Ooooh, now thats the kind of stuff I wanna see!” Connie said deviously. “Eren! You have to kiss or slap Johanna!”

Such a proposition made Eren snap out of his drunken reverie and look sober again. “What? I can’t slap—“

“Hell no. Don’t even try it, hotshot.” I said, trying to sound tough despite feeling my face heat up.

“Oh pleeeaaaseee?” Krista said, putting on puppy eyes. “Just one little kiss, it won’t mean anything!”

“Yeah, I wouldn’t mind seeing this.” Annie said with a shrug. Mikasa nodded in agreement.

The peer pressure surmounted and next thing I know, people were pushing us closer together. I’m sure my face must’ve looked like a tomato at this point. Maybe if it were anyone else it would be easier. But its Eren loud-mouth suicidal blockhead Jaeger…

Things were getting out of hand. If the commotion got any louder we would get found out for sure, and Instructor Shadis would make us run until our legs snapped in half.

“Fine, fine!” I huffed and looked at Eren, who seemed ready to shit himself. “Just get it over with.”

He leaned in. My stomach fluttered and I closed my eyes.

WHUMP!

A loud noise startled us all. Eren and I jumped apart, the moment officially ruined.

Sasha was on the floor face-down. We looked at her and then at the bunk beds, absolutely bewildered. Did she…

“Sasha, what the hell?” Ymir said. Her and Krista helped the brunette get up. “Did you dive off the top bunk?”

“I wanted to see if I could fly…” she whined, leaning on them for support. Looks like Eren wasn’t the only lightweight here.

Connie sighed. “Well, the party animal has been defeated. I think its time we call it a night, guys.”

Everyone agreed and in a manner of minutes, all the boys had said their goodbyes and Merry Christmas’s, filing quietly and stealthily out of the dormitory. I pretended not to notice, but I could’ve sworn I saw Eren steal one last glance at me before closing the door. Whatever… I tried not to think about it too much.

“Oh, well. Looks like the perfect Christmas kiss was between Sasha and the floor.” A ginger-haired girl, Hannah, said and stretched. We were all exhausted and eager to go to sleep.

“Yeah.” I said with a little smile, slipping into bed. Thanks to Sasha, I guess tonight was kind of fun.

The second my head hit the pillow, I felt an odd lump. That’s weird… I sat up and lifted my pillow, confused, only to find an unexpected surprise.

It was a flower crown. Adorned with baby’s breath, poppies, and daisies. My heart melted a bit, knowing exactly who it was from. He must’ve slipped it under my pillow sometime during the game. I unfolded the note besides it.

Its been a while...

Merry Christmas,

-Jean

[cjjingram]

Not much. Rereading your Arrow fics, wish there were more.

I have a few out now. As you may have guessed, I’m more of a satirist than anything else. Pretty much all of my stories come with a wink and a nod. For instance, Still Waters is actually a commentary on feminism and a criticism on fanboy stereotypes and tropes. I’ve been writing something I call The Tolstoy Universe that is a satire of the Bratva arranged marriage trope you might like. You can find them here:

 http://archiveofourown.org/series/676445

I also have a shit ton of unpublished stuff I need to post eventually. Here’s a taste of something from an upcoming chapter of Sunshine Suits Her you might enjoy:

Ollie just threw them a mischievous grin, “Don’t worry; Ipromise I’ll try to keep it down next time. The volume anyway,” he added as anaside.

“Next time?” Sam (who was still playing a fucking video gameand not helping with their group project because Ollie once againmanaged to distract everyone into doing something else) asked, “Since when doyou take on repeat business, Queen?”

“Believe it or not, I have been known to be generous onoccasion,” Ollie said smugly.

“So what? Are you planning on making this latest conquestinto a girlfriend or something?” David asked wryly.

“Naw, I already have a girlfriend,” Ollie said dismissivelyas he took out a bunch of enemy combatants on the big screen.

David blinked at that, “A girlfriend? A real girlfriend orjust a picture in your wallet that you show girls whenever they get tooclingy?”

Sam looked up at that, “Wait, so other people do that, too?I thought it was just me.”

Ollie grinned at that, “Naw, a real girlfriend, man. It’spretty serious, too. We’ve been together for a few years now actually.”

David narrowed his eyes at that, “Wait, so if you have a ‘seriousgirlfriend’ of a few years, then why are you picking uprandom chicks every other night?”

“Every other night?” Sam scoffed. “Dude, try every night,right Merlyn? Hell, because of this fucker I had to buy my own set of noisecanceling headphones just so I could get a decent night’s sleep.” He turned toOllie, “By the way, you owe me four hundred bucks.”

“Take it out of my wallet,” the other man said as he tossedit over to him.

“Damn right I will,” Sam said opening it up and pulling outseveral bills before tossing it back. As he tucked the money into his ownwallet he looked at Tommy, “How the hell do you sleep with all that shit goingon night after night anyway?”

“I don’t which is why I spent most of this morning’s lecturein a coma,” Tommy replied crossly.

David held his hand up for attention, “I still want to hearabout this ‘serious girlfriend’ that Queen here is screwing around on.”

“I’m not screwing around on Laurel,” he said with aself-conscious laugh.

“Dude, if you’re fucking someone who isn’t your girlfriendthen that’s pretty much the definition of ‘screwing around on yourgirlfriend’,” Sam said with a snort.

“First off, it’s only cheating if she finds out about it,”he said easily. “Secondly, even when Laurel has caught me she didn’t carebecause, at the end of the day, she’s my girlfriend andthose other girls were just about sex so it doesn’t count. See, the truth isthat you’ve been lied to your entire lives and you don’t even know it.”

David looked at him with a raised eyebrow, “What the hellare you babbling about?”  

“I’m talking about how society wants us to think that ‘monogamy’and ‘exclusivity’ are the same thing when, the truth is, they’re not. In fact,that whole thing is just a delusion,” he said seriously.

“A delusion?” David repeated mockingly. “Do you even knowwhat that word means?”

“Yeah, I do,” Ollie told him. “It means that it’s a pipedream because being sexually bound to one person for the rest of your life isunnatural and unrealistic. I mean, think about it,” he said sweeping his eyesacross all of them, “Here we are, a bunch of guys entering our sexual peak, andyet society expects us to find a girl–or a guy,” he said gesturing towardsDavid and Brandon, “then shut our eyes and pretend we can’t see anyone but theperson we’re dating because it’s, quote, ‘wrong’ when the truth is that havingsexual feelings towards people we find attractive is normal whether we’re‘with’ someone or not and to deny that goes completely against nature,” he saidfirmly. 

“I’m a young guy who likes having sex. I’m not hurting anybody. Thegirls I sleep with aren’t trying to hurt anybody. Laurel isn’t being hurtbecause she’s not here. Why, then, when my girlfriend is two states and twohundred and sixty miles away, should I deny myself pleasure and companionship?Why should I waste the most exciting time of my life, probably the last timeI’ll ever have to really enjoy my freedom before I have to get married andenter a corporate hellhole, by sitting in my room alone, night after night,just because I’m ‘in a relationship’?” Ollie asked with a knowing hum, “You wantto know why? It’s because a few puritanical types can’t seem to accept the factthat just because you’re sleeping with other people it doesn’t necessarily meanyou’re committing the ‘sin’ of adultery,” he said off-handedly. “After all, thedefinition of ‘adultery’ is sex between a married person and someone other thanhis or her spouse and we’re not married. ‘Cheating’ would imply that I’mbetraying Laurel or that I’m being disloyal in some way and I’m not. I’mextremely loyal to Laurel and we’ll probably even get married sooner or later.Right now though I’m still a free agent and I want to enjoy my freedom while Ican but,” he paused dramatically, holding one finger inthe air in emphasis, “that doesn’t change how I feel about her;it just means I’m horny.”

Everyone fell silent so they could mull that one over.

“Brother, I’ll give you props for stringing together apretty solid argument but, just like my grandma used to say, ‘Just becauseyou’re crocheting with bullshit, that don’t change the stink’,” Sam told him.

Brandon looked at him and shook his head, “What the helldoes that even mean?”

“I don’t know but my grandma used to say it all the time,”the other man shrugged. “That and, ‘If wishes were horses then y’allmotherfuckers would be headed to the glue factory’.”  

“Yeah, I don’t know about LaRoche’s grandma or afghans madeof shit, but I do know that Queen might want to invest in a new dictionarybefore his girlfriend sends him to the glue factory,”David said at last.

“Look, Laurel’s in Yale and I’m here in Cambridge,” theother man said reasonably. “She knows I fuck around on her with other girls and,for all I know, she’s out there doing the same thing with other guys, but do Ilook worried? No,” he said answering his own question. “Want to know why?”

“God help me, but I do,” David said reluctantly.

“Because, at the end of the day, if someone asks her ‘Do youhave a boyfriend?’ I know her answer will always be, ‘Yes I do and his name isOliver Queen’,” he said smugly.

David nodded in understanding, “Okay, so what you’re sayingis that you and your girlfriend have an open relationship.”

“No, we have a regular relationship but whenever she catchesme messing around with other girls she just yells at me for about twentyminutes or so then, after she gets it out of her system, I get her to forgiveme by promising not to do it anymore followed by lots of really hot make-upsex,” Ollie said with a shrug. “Actually, if you think about it, my cheating onher on a regular basis is probably the reason our relationship works half aswell as it does.”

“Someday I want tolive on Ollie’s planet,” Sam said seriously. “I think I’d be really happythere.”

“Damn straight,” Ollie told him before pausing the game andlooking directly at David. “Word of advice, dude: The reason I’ve managed tomake it work with Laurel for as long as I have is because I figured out a longtime ago that when I’m happy, she’s happy, and getting laid on the regularmakes me happy while having me recommit myself to our relationship whenever shecatches me makes her happy in return. You could have the same thing but first you’vegot to break free of all these stupid ideas society has about what does anddoesn’t constitute a healthy relationship. Once you do that, you’re gold.”

The other man folded his lips at that and nodded slowly,“Okay, sure; that makes perfect sense—not. But whatever works for you, right?”

“It does work,” Ollie insisted. “I’m living proof.”

“Yeah, okay; I’lljust take your word for it,” David said dubiously.

“You don’t see it but the proof is in the pudding,” Olliesaid with a superior air. “After all, I’ve been in a stable relationship foralmost two years and I’m getting laid every single night whereas you want to bein a relationship and yet you haven’t had sex in how long?”

“Too long,” the other man admitted reluctantly.

“Exactly,” Ollie concluded smugly. “You know, I should reallygive up on this whole Harvard thing and just write a book or something,” henodded to himself. “I have a feeling that a lot of guys could really benefitfrom what I have to say.”

“Right,” David said slowly, “You keep believing that, Queen,and, should you survive the horde of rampaging women out to string you up byyour disease-ridden testicles, I promise I’ll be the first one in line to buythat book.”

“You do that,” Ollie said seemingly unperturbed by the otherman’s obvious sarcasm, “When you do I’ll even sign it for you.” He held up hishands and gestured midair, “To David; may all of your cats be healthy and noteat your corpse when you eventually die of perpetual horniness. Love, Ollie;the guy who actually got laid within the last decade’.”

“Damn, that was harsh,” Sam said with a snicker.

“And, unfortunately, probably true,” David said miserably.

Tommy let out a huff of frustration, “Look Ollie, if you’redone bragging about your sex addiction, I meant what I said: No more ass in theapartment, especially during the week. Take that shit to a hotel or her place, butnot here.”

“Oh, come on! We weren’t *that* loud,” the disease carryingsex addict scoffed.

“Bull. Shit,” he snapped; now well past the point of givinga fuck.

“Bullshit is right,” Sam agreed. “It sounded like you weretrying to lay asphalt the way you were jackhammering away last night.”

“It wasn’t that bad,” the other man said with a grin.

“It was that bad,” Tommy tossed back. “Seriously Ollie, notto rain on your slut parade but I need some goddamn sleep every once in awhile, y’know? Last night the noise got so bad I nearly took my blankie over toBrandon’s crib to crash on his couch.”

“If it was that bad then you should’ve,” Ollie shrugged in away that said he couldn’t care less.

“Maybe next time I will!” he countered.

Hope you enjoyed the prezzie. :)

[sogoodishouldchargeadmission]

Thanks for Listening Ch. 1

There’s nothing like the threat of dismemberment to get you moving, I’ll tell you that much. So even after witnessing the oh-so tragic passing of Sergeant Jacob Bower and his squad, I still put together the quickest escape plan of my life, followed it to a minimal extent, and got the hell out of dodge.

The following hours turned out to be problematic for a few people. Those problems include (but are not limited to) a high-speed collision, rampant dishonesty, anxiety for a friend, a preventable skull fracture, two injuries to the same arm and one very pissed off little girl.

While I will be the first to admit that poor choices were made, not all of them were mine. So how is it fair that five of those six problems fell on my shoulders?

You’re probably wondering what you’ve just gotten yourself into by reading this. Well tough shit. It’s not my idea to give written statements every time something goes wrong out on the battlefield. Hell, it’s no wonder you have so many of these things sitting on your desk; everything goes wrong nowadays, be it a little or a lot.

Also, there’s really no point in keeping paper records; the building across the street went up in flames two weeks ago. I’m pretty sure this one doesn’t have much longer. Not to mention our very real paper shortage; starting out, I thought I’d try to write as small as possible, but screw it--I’m doing this with my non-dominant arm, and coming down off morphine. You get what you get.

I digress.

For the (apparently precious) record, my name is Corporal Damon S. Baird. Delta Squad. The following statement chronicles the events of the 28th day of Frost.

Spoiler Alert: It sucked.

***

Was I supposed to say no to a superior officer who requested help? I didn’t think I had a choice. Shit, if it was as simple as making up an excuse every time I didn’t feel like doing something, trust me, I’d be on my own private island by now. But a long time ago, I was given an angry lecture by an angry man about ‘Gears following orders’, and I was trying to do just that when Sergeant Jacob Bower of Theta Squad came to me for help that morning.

A few things on Ol’ Jacob. He was a cobweb of a man in looks and old age temperament. You know the type; wispy white hair and fragile composure, all bark and plenty of bite.

Had I heard things about him that were questionable? Yes. Did his squad have a reputation for being morally flexible? Yes. Did that make me apprehensive about getting in a vehicle with them and traveling miles away on assignment? No, and for two reasons:

Said assignment did not, in any way, contradict my own internalized code of conduct. I’m a mechanic. They wanted me to fix a truck. How could they, right?

2. I was bored, and the prospect of getting away from the congested shithole this little city of ours has turned out to be seemed like a blessing. That I could get my hands dirty under the hood of a truck was an added bonus, not that anyone reading this cares what a forgettable soldier like me actually enjoys doing. You know, what he’s especially good at, what makes him feel fulfilled. Not to point fingers or anything, (I’m actually only pointing one; front and center) but if I’d been allowed to help more often in departments that actually applied to me, maybe this whole mess wouldn’t have happened. I’m aware of the fact that I’m in demand, but forgive me for not seeing “fixing a civilian washing machine and/or toaster oven” as my one true calling.

So yes, I was easy to the guy who offered me the possibility of grease under my fingernails. Funny how no one argues about you all sitting with your thumbs up your asses all day long. I guess we’re good at what we’re good at, and we like what we like. Let’s laugh collectively. Let’s move on.

Here was the plan: the five of us take a Packhorse to the city of Hale. I’d fix a downed Centaur that had, according to them, been grounded for a few weeks now. They’d scavenge for other supplies, and we’d be back in lovely Jacinto before dinner. Easy-peasy, if only it went that way.

Some of you will remember Hale as being the city everyone wanted to see before they died; lights, cameras, and movie star shit making the place a gimmicky tourist trap that brought in crazies from all over Tyrus. Today, you can visit for the affordable price of your sanity, and bring back such souvenirs as lice and tetanus.

In other words, it’s run by Stranded--above-mentioned crazies who never left.

I wasn’t thrilled to hear that that’s where we’d be heading, but like I said, I had a bad case of cabin fever that week. You might be rolling your eyes or shaking your head at the mechanic who wanted a change of scenery during the end of the world, but guess what? I stopped giving a fuck in grade school.  

I didn’t tell anyone where I was going because I assumed Bower had that covered. Grizzled officers like him usually like to feel in charge, and--believe it or not--I wasn’t in the mood for a pissing contest. He was the sergeant. I was the private; best behavior, stiff upper lip, all that jazz. Figures, the one day that I try on a sheep costume, the wolves of the world were wearing theirs too.

I got in a Packhorse with Bower and his crew; three male Gears named Miles, Lester, and Castle. We were at Jacinto’s limits by 0800, and entered Hale maybe two hours after that. The ride there, however uneventful, was punctuated by nervous energy. Bower’s people were loud and twitchy, and even with their helmets on I could guess their ages by conversation and body language alone: Rookies, all of them, which kind of made me wonder more about Bower.

Not to speak ill of the dead or anything, but he seemed like the type of potato-faced old guy that would have an established group of lackeys more his age. God knows Hoffman plays favorites.

(Kidding!)

So the fact that Theta Squad consisted of individuals mostly under the age of twenty-five had me questioning; was Jacob Bower a wanna-be desk jockey vying for promotion by looking after the little ones? Had he lost his own crew through tragic circumstance, and was trying to redeem himself by teaching the younger generation? Was this some sort of late-life crisis?

I was thinking of a way to ask him these completely appropriate questions right as we made it to Hale. At that point, my attention was pulled elsewhere.

To put it bluntly, “The City of a Thousand Possibilities” was looking more like “Hell Froze Over, Twice.” Not that war had been kind to it these past twelve years. And the Stranded certainly weren't employing sanitation workers regularly. Or ever. But when I say we drove up to a shit-show that day, I mean a complete and utter Shit Extravaganza. They rolled out the red carpet alright, but it wasn’t made of polyester.

What I saw was Stranded men and women fighting for their lives and losing quickly against a melting pot of Locust, Wretches and Tickers under a Nemycist-riddled sky. They were along the outskirts of the city, on the freeway. Their blood looked dark, reflecting the inkspot clouds.

Bower made a sharp turn, taking us on the ramp into downtown. Through the back of the truck, I watched a Stranded woman get blown to pieces by a Boomer and suddenly wondered what the fuck was going on. We were still driving? While humans were still dying? I’m hardly an advocate for people of the Stranded variety--I have lots of colorful nicknames for them, actually--but turning our backs on admittedly preventable death seemed...inhuman. Maybe I’ve been hanging around Marcus “Mother-Hen” Fenix too much for my own good, but at the end of the day, humanity is endangered, and it seemed ignorant to act like we didn’t notice.

 At that point, Bower wasn’t being very communicative, and his kids’ nervous chatter had died down to jagged breathing at the sight of the grubs. I opened my mouth but he cut me off, using the rearview mirror to look at me instead of the carnage behind us.

“They’ve been offered help, Private. We’re here for a cause that wants saving.”

I couldn’t argue with something I knew was right. The Stranded population see us as monsters no better than Locust. And twelve years ago, they might’ve had a point; the government hasn’t always made the best choices when it comes to things like basic human decency. I was there when the hammer strikes sent millions into an ashy grave. So they’re angry, I get it. But holding a grudge isn’t exactly solving anything. If it’s an apology they want, it might be a good idea to survive long enough to hear it.

Several blocks in, the sound of battle diminished. By the time we got to the inner city, the gunfire sounded like morse code in a padded cell. Only particularly loud screams were heard. The sky was still inked to shit, though, and maybe it was those dark clouds above our heads that made my next exchange with Bower so problematic.

It’s at this point I’d like to remind you about my list of problems, specifically ‘Rampant Dishonesty’.

We parked. I didn’t see a Centaur. The only things in that town center were a few dirty tents and sleeping bags, empty food crates, five emaciated Stranded, and string lights connected to generators, illuminating the whole ugly picture for us.

Do you know which of those things Bower made a beeline for?

With the rest of Theta suddenly pointing their guns and barking orders like they weren't scared shitless, he ushered me over to the generators.

(Gold star if you guessed correctly.)

“Get them safe for travel,” he’d said.

“Sorry, what?” I’d said.

“Those don’t belong to you!” a woman said, and the desperation in her voice outweighed the anger. I turned to look at her. She was probably younger than the fifty or so years her face painted. All of the people in that group looked particularly unwell, too pale or too old or too skinny, but they were the only one’s there to protest.

It was classic urban militia; take the fight to the threat, and leave home base defenseless. It’s definitely a strategy more stupid than noble, but I still felt like a dick to take advantage of a mistake like that. Yeah, ‘all’s fair’ etcetera, but let’s remember that this war isn’t against people.

A pang of unease settled in my chest. Bower, on the other hand, seemed pleased--like he couldn’t have planned this to happen any better. I say again, planned.

“So you want me to steal them?” I asked, incredulous. We haven't seen Kryl in months, but don’t tell me that you don’t still sleep with a light next to your bed. The idea of leaving those people in the dark made my skin crawl.

“They’re for a cause, Private. Something more important than you or me, or them.”

“So, what, you’re Robin Hood now? Stealing from the poor to give to the rich? Oh, wait…”

“I’d hardly call the COG rich.”

“Yeah, but we’re better off than this.” I gestured to the skeletal individuals in the corner, who flinched at the movement. Eyes wide, faces dirty and desperate. “You’re asking me to take everything they have.”

“No private. Not asking.”

I swallowed. “Are you serious?”

And Bower leveled his pistol at me. “Quite so, I’m afraid.”

I should have seen this coming.

Blah, blah, blah.