#give her a ranged weapon that matches aesthetically and she's all set to go to war

[thewrongexecution]

stream was good. p5t is good. big fan of speargal and failguy so far. they managed to translate the essence of persona combat- cheat the enemy out of being able to act- really well into a tactical system.

I'll be doing this again sometime next week. until then, thank you all for coming.

[mxvladdy]

Single Dads- Overwatch Prt.1 Headcannons

Jesse McCree

His two little girls have him wrapped around their fingers. Jesse can be seen on base entertaining his twins with games, tea parties, and piggyback rides. They both inherited their father's love of western flair and aesthetic much to his delight. Yes, they all have matching boots for special occasions. Their favorite thing to play with when Jesse is away is their play-dough sets and easy bake oven (with supervision from grandpa Rein). When they are old enough to cook with him though he has so many ideas of what to teach them. Grandma’s recipes won’t die out with him.

When Jesse gets back from a long mission all he wants is to cuddle up, it warms his heart when they snuggle up during their favorite Disney movie and nod off. Over the years he has let his hair grow longer than he normally liked just so his girls could play with it (Instead of touching their own. He had a heart attack when the girls had found his electric razor. Aunty Olivia had a field day fixing that mess)

He likes to take them to the gun range when he has time to practice, making sure they have proper safety gear. Don’t need to turn out like their daddy, deaf in one ear, and ringing in the other. He hopes that they will never have to raise a weapon of their own but knows with his line of work and who he is it’s a possibility. If they want to learn how to hold a gun he is probably going to beg Ana to teach them. He doesn’t want them in close combat, that’s an absolute nope.

Hanzo Shimada

Whenever he sees his son his face splits into the most brilliant smile. His infant son squirms in Ana’s arms, trying to get to his dad as he steps off the dropship. Chubby baby arms wave excitedly, impatient to be back in his father's embrace. As he grows he turns into a very giggly and chatty baby who babbles to anyone in a mix of English, Japanese, and Tibetan (thanks to Genji and Zenyatta babysitting). Hanzo adores his son and strives to be a better father than his ever was to him. He’s strict, but never overbearing.

He loves to read to his son whatever he can find, though his favorite is Brown Bear, Brown Bear, What do you see? Which he reads in English and Japanese till his little one is asleep. When his son can’t sleep he will read it over and over again while his dragons rocking him to sleep.

He encourages his son’s interests whatever they may be at the time. He has saved up a lot of money from mercenary work and what he could take before he fled his home. So he can spend all the money he needs to help fuel his son’s interest.

He regrets that he hadn’t taken more family heirlooms to pass down to his son. Genji often jokes about a bonding trip when his son is older and trained to the old estate. A right of passage taking back what was rightfully theirs. It is a tempting idea… But even without the family trinkets, he will pass down Storm bow, whether his son uses it or not he doesn’t care. The biggest inheritance will be his dragon when the time comes.

Genji Shimada   His eldest child is a spitfire, very much like he was in his youth. Thankfully, he tempers it much better than his parents ever did, finding an equal balance between friend and father. He respects her boundaries and she respects his wishes. Whenever she is feeling down she always finds little origami figures all over her room just like when she was little. Really into textiles and engineering. While never admitting it to her father but she one day wants to design him a better, slicker, and lighter body. One as close to flesh as possible. Till then she flourishes with Gabe learning how to sew and make patterns. The holidays are always filled with new custom clothes for the Overwatch members. She is found in the frequent company of Zenyatta. She wants to travel with him one day, to gather inspiration for her fashion and to see what her father saw to make him into the man he is today.  

His younger son though is very much like Hanzo when they were little. Reserved and resourceful he spends most of his time with Winston learning what he could from the scientist before dinner. Genji isn’t dull by any sense of the word but the stuff his boy was interested in was just over his head. Has a service dog named Totoro that is always there for him when things get too overwhelming. When things get too much or he is tired Genji loves that his son comes to him for help and advice. To him this is the ultimate show of trust, he wished he could have done this with his father. Normally they just meditate and talk. Other times they go find Satya, who his son loves to talk to.    

Christmas and birthdays were always a fun challenge to find things that would keep him stimulated. Last year the highlight had been his very own personal telescope. Courtesy of the science department of Overwatch.

Gabriel Reyes (Pre-fall and After)

His princesa is his world. His crew likes to tease him about his phone usage. 99% of the time he is in the barracks he is glued to it, face-timing his daughter. During the original Overwatch years, his mother and grandmother raised her while he was on tour. It kills him looking back on how he had watched his daughter grow from the scene of his phone. But at the time he believed it was for the best. Now- now he would give anything to be the one to teach her how to walk, her first words, prom, and graduation. 

The few times he could visit were glorious. Lots of home cooked meals made together and gifts from the places he had been around the world. Jack and Ana would drop by sometimes as well bringing with them stories and her father’s escapades and foolishness. As his daughter grew she picked up a passion for music and would send sound clips of her music lessons and compositions to him. No one was safe from him showing it off. After the fall and his resurrection, he stayed clear of her, keeping the pictures and recordings saved close to him at all times. Though the holidays are a hard time for him to stay away. Every year her family Christmas tree has a few more presents under it then she bought.  

She knows he’s still around and is determined to find a way to bring her father back.

Jack Morrison

Twins are a handful. One he thought he was ready for. I mean, he was able to keep Lena and McCree inline (mostly -but not really). He is a nervous dad at first. Overly prepared, he read every book and online forum. But, self-doubt is a hell of a drug. He gets better over time and the motto of “fake it till ya make it” 100% applies to him.  

As Strike-Commander he is in his office a lot. When the twins were newborns, he moved his work to his condo. As they got older he returned to his office and set up an area for the kids. When he is in conference calls it’s always funny to see the toddlers get into frame, or try to get his attention. His office is littered with scribbles and paintings the two did in daycare or while playing with Ana and Reinhardt.    

The two have their dad whipped. He won’t admit it but he is wrapped around their fingers. It’s not that he showers them in gifts or lets them make trouble all the time. But he does turn a blind eye to the little things. Missing cookies, a little stain on his chair after he told them no food in his office. Ok, maybe one more scoop of ice cream, but promise me you’ll eat dinner alright? Most nights he can’t read them to sleep. It hurts, but they adjust. He does tuck them in and turns on some read-alongs for them before heading back into the office. The twins are out within minutes blessedly.

Jean-Baptiste Augustin

Twin girls, and he is on top of it. Ultimate chill dad. He gets it. Life is rough, and he is so proud that his girls feel safe coming to him for help. He teaches them how to handle their problems with words not violence. Papa and uncle Mako will take care of it. 

Neither girls are interested in medicine, which hurts a little but it’s not his life and he’s proud regardless. He is great with letting them explore their dreams. The eldest follows Bridgette wanting to learn about armor and the youngest (much to his fear) really likes Fawkes and his innate skill with explosives. Praise the gods Athena kept a close eye one them when he had something to show her.

Both are close with Genji’s kids in age. It’s nice for them to have friends that aren’t a bunch of old soldiers. They all like to hang-out on the roof of the base to destress after a day of school or side projects. When the four are together there is a 90% chance the evening will end with a few more grey hairs on the father’s heads.

Cooking is a big part of their family ritual. Baptiste grew up rough and underfeed so there is no way he will ever let his girls feel the same way. He teaches them what few Haitian recipes he knows from heart. Then sometimes they will watch videos and read recipes online of other peoples to try and add to their own books. His paranoia gets the best of him sometimes and he teaches them basic survival skills. They appreciate it and understand his fears. He is open with them about his past and is unashamed to admit his faults.  

[potatotrash0]

Your DR magic AU, hand it over 🤲

Okay I have two other anons and I’m just gonna split the character ideas among the three asks. I don’t quite have a plot thought out, and most of these characters’ concepts have only existed in my head up until now...bare with me skdjksjfkd

Mm I talked about them briefly in Prom’s ask? But here’s a more in-depth thing of the THH fighting styles.

Makoto is a mage-type. (I used fighter, support, and mage to describe the various adventurer types it’s temporary just roll with it) Again, he can’t really hold magic for very long? He’s got a large mana reserve but it’s hard to activate and harder to control, so he’s currently working on mastering the little bullets. In the future, I imagine large barrages of bullets would sort of circle around him like they would in the barrel of a gun.

He probably got in accidentally? I’m not entirely sure about this, but I think there’s an entrance exam for Reserve Courses and he was probably forced in on Komaru’s behalf for some reason.

He was basically running the entire time until the very end when he panicked and suddenly the entire field was wiped clean from him waving his arm. HPA saw that, decided that he was worth training, and put him into the Main Course. He doesn’t feel very good about getting in that way, but HPA isn’t exactly empathetic like he is. Again this is like one of three ways I think he could’ve gotten in with the rest of the cast because I’m indecisive skdjsjf

Kyoko is another mage-type, in general the Main Gangs of each game have various themes. THH’s trio has a magic theme, they all use magic. She doesn’t use a weapon, though I’m thinking her gloves act as a limiter of sorts?

As a general rule, more mana means less control, and being half-demon gives her a lot of it. Her gloves help her regulate her mana output so that she doesn’t use too much of it when attacking and tire herself out. Later in the timeline, I imagine there might be a scene where she takes them off and fights off some enemies to buy the rest of the class time to escape something? She would get trapped in the process, but I think this would happen after she’s worked with Makoto for a while and she would trust him enough to believe he would come back for her if she didn’t return.

Oh this isn’t related to her fighting style but on the topic of her being half-demon, that’s mainly because I thought it was boring for everyone to be human and I’m a big sucker for fantasy species so yeah. She’s a cambion.

She has purple-tinted skin, horns that curl up and are fairly close to her head, a thin pointed tail, pointed ears, her pupils are slitted, she’s got carnivore-style teeth, her nails are longer and sharper by default. Whenever she uses the full extent of her magic, her scleras turn dark purple and her irises turn white. Oh yeah her scars came from an accident she had when she was young where her magic got out of control and burned her hands. Her mom’s the demon by the way, for no particular reason, I just thought that the Kirigiris would stay human in this and I don’t know anything about her mom’s side of the family.

I just realized I never said Makoto’s race skdjks he’s human!! He and Komaru just happen to be a special case and have a lot of mana. Most other humans in this AU aren’t so lucky. (cough hinata cough cough)

Byakuya, again, uses magic. He’s the only one who uses a weapon in the Trio, he uses a staff specially made by the Togami family. He also knows how to use a sword and a bow.

I haven’t put too much thought into him, but I know for a fact that his adventuring outfit would have a big sweeping cape later in the timeline. In the beginning though, he just has a stupid expensive suit. The cape comes in later as he, Kyoko, and Makoto start to group up more and more.

I’ve decided that adventurers in this AU group up just as often as they go solo, and while Byakuya would initially be solo, he would deem Makoto and Kyoko strong enough to work with whenever they’re taking on a difficult job.

Groups would change to have matching designs the longer they’re partnered up, and capes/cloaks happen to be the THH Trio’s Thing, as in all three of them would have a cape/cloak of some sort. Byakuya because he’s pretentious, Makoto because he thinks it looks cool, and Kyoko because she uses the cloak for practical reasons like storing things and keeping a low profile when needed. Oh and Byakuya’s bloodline is of royal elven descent, their business is selling spellbooks, runestones, potions, reagents, any magical item you could think of.

Sayaka is a half-siren mage! She mostly uses charm and illusionary magic, as well as healing so that she can support her allies. Later on, she might learn water magic so she can actually deal damage as well. I haven’t decided on her weapon of choice, perhaps she uses a lyre or casts spells from a book. I’m also debating having her learn hand-to-hand combat instead of water magic?

I just like the idea of someone coming up and trying to challenge her, thinking they’ll beat her easily, and barely getting a hit in before she kicks their legs out from under them and tosses them over her shoulder like they weigh nothing. She deserves to take out people twice her size and be menacing, as a treat for the amount of disrespect she gets in the fandom. And I want her to take Leon down a peg because he definitely acts a little like a cocky frat boy sometimes.

Speaking of Leon, we’ve got our first fighter-type!!! I could have him use a baseball bat but that’s boring so I’m thinking he might utilize items as well as a weapon? Bombs or grenades that look like a baseball and explode on impact, baseballs that ignite when thrown and act as fire balls. Alas, I don’t think about him much so this is all just me throwing ideas to see what sticks.

Whatever the case, the main thing I know would happen is that he frequently gets help from Kazuichi and Miu because he just cannot for the life of him stop breaking his equipment. He’s reckless and rushes into battle and now that he doesn’t have Kanon to stop him from setting stuff on fire all the time, he gets detention a lot. (And no she isn’t into him like in canon, I refuse to acknowledge that she ever was.)

Chihiro......they can’t fight djfjsjfjjf. They specialize in making tech and weapons, and in the beginning, would mainly use robots that they programmed to support their allies. Though, they do end up training with Mondo, Sakura, and Aoi to help them become better at combat, and eventually they join everyone else on the front lines as a ranged fighter/support type.

Also, the robots would kinda follow them around like pets. Cute little guys that can also shoot lasers. The robots are powered by mana crystals and each one has a different personality and magic type! Sometimes they follow around different people, the electric one took a liking to Mondo and you’ll see it floating around while he works out. They’re buds.

On the topic of Mondo, he’s another fighter-type! He’s more hand-to-hand combat. A controlled berserker, if you will. Probably started out fighting guys in his hometown and progressed to clearing out monsters when Daiya got concerned about his temper? Perhaps. Maybe. I do not think about Daiya I apologize.

Oh wait hold on. I’m looking at his character art and he’s got a hammer.........it’s decided he uses a warhammer, the biggest one they’ve got, and it’s probably a mana-based weapon. Specifically electric. He and that lil robot wipe the battlefield with their opponents >:D

Taka is probably a fighter-type? I can’t for the life of me find where I read this, but apparently he’s really good at self-defense so I imagine he does hand-to-hand combat as well as sword-fighting for the Noble Paladin Aesthetic.

Hifumi was originally a mage-type, but upon second thought, I’m making him a support-type who uses items and potions and stuff! I like the idea of him making fun little bottles and potions themed after his favorite animes and mangas..........he also definitely helped everyone design their adventurer outfits. He’s the only reason that Makoto’s outfit isn’t boring as hell.

Celeste is, of course, a mage-type. She’s Miss Lolita of course I have to make her an ethereal magic user alright also I love her and I love mages let me have this skfjdkjf. As for her weapon, my first thought was her having playing cards that she throws HxH style?

Or she could summon goons to fight for her, playing into the whole loyal servant dream she has. They would be vaguely themed after the cards, so there would be a jack, king, queen, and joker, all of different magic types depending on the suit of the card she throws. Electric for a spade, fire for a heart, ice for a diamond, something along those lines.

I’m also considering having her little...finger armor thing? I’m thinking of having that cross into her magic, where she attacks with claw-like things formed out of mana. Of course she could also just. Use the cards to cast spells directly skdjksjfkhf

Sakura is definitely a fighter-type. Again, hand-to-hand style, but I imagine she’s more controlled and strategic than Mondo. I can’t see her using a weapon, so I guess she’s like one of the only characters to fight exclusively with fists.

Mukuro’s a ranged fighter-type, but she can also do melee. She uses magic-based guns, ones that shoot mana infused bullets. They have a variety of effects depending on the type of bullet and magic. (I’m not a gun person so take this with a grain of salt.)

Bullets that break apart might be laced with electric magic so that they can shock a target from several points, or fire magic if she’s aiming to start a fire quickly. Exploding bullets are usually used with fire magic, but she might switch to ice if she wants to create a barrage of ice shards for...some reason, I don’t know. There’s more combinations I could probably make, but I’m. Not here to spend an hour researching guns. Not right now at least, who knows what I’ll want info on in the future.

Mmmmmm I’m starting to lose patience here so forgive me for the shorter explanations. I might throw in a fun fact about them for ✨ flavor ✨

Junko’s a fighter/mage-type! She uses a scythe and laces the blade with magic. She could combine it with fire magic to create a flaming scythe and go nuts with it, or she could just channel general mana and slam the blade into the ground to create a big crack in the ground.

There’s about an 80% chance she gets several weapons later in the timeline. Her scythe, a spear, possibly a gun. Monokuma probably exists, I like to think Junko ran into a smarter monster and tamed it and kept it as a slightly feral pet.

Also, yes, she’s still a big adrenaline junkie who gets off on despair. If you see her fighting things she knows are out of her league, mind your business.....actually, call someone to help before she gets herself killed. Please.

I haven’t decided what Aoi will be just yet? I’m veering towards fighter/mage-type, she could use water magic and maybe a leg-based fighting style. Possibly judo or taekwondo. I.....do not have any ideas for her. However I do know that she and Sakura would have a bunch of combo moves together dkfjkejfkdjjd

Toko is a mage-type! She probably uses a book to cast spells from. Or just uses her hands. She would fight ranged, I don’t think she’d want to be up in the action. Too much stress for her, y’know? I

As for Syo, she fight differently than Toko! She technically uses dual swords, but the swords can also connect to create a giant pair of scissors. Again, this is just sort of a fun character thing, but she gets to hate Byakuya in this AU. They have arguments and get on each other’s nerves a lot, but I think the rest of the class usually separates them before anything serious happens.

At some point after Toko befriends Komaru, I like to think that Syo gets a proper fight scene with Byakuya where she rips into him. I don’t think Toko would want to hurt anyone though, even him, so Syo would probably leave him with a few minor cuts at most.

Afterwards, I think Byakuya would quiet down with the insults with Naegi and Kyoko’s requests. (Well. Naegi asked him to try and be nicer because he was worried that they might fight again. Kyoko just bluntly told him that he needed to stop being a jerk and start considering everyone else’s feelings.)

Skfksjfkdh ah. I also like to think Komaru and Toko were initially partnered up by HPA for a job. They were assigned to deal with a couple of school kids wreaking havoc on a nearby city with some monsters they semi-tamed?

But after finishing the job, they decided to partner up permanently on their own. They probably have a few combo moves that Komaru came up with, Toko tweaked them to make them actually possible with their skill set and weapons.

Hiro is...possibly a mage/support-type? He’s probably a bit cowardly and freaks out when on the front lines, but he can use a crystal ball to attack from afar. I’m also considering giving him tarot cards so that he can toss them and attack from several points at once?

Or the ball could shatter at some point during the story and he could just roll with it and spread the shards out during battle to attack from several points at once. They could also be used to create a magic cage of sorts, like electric fence but only electricity.

Okay that’s everybody oh my god. I have plenty more stuff about this au, this isn’t even half of it trust me lmao. I’m sorry about this being so long I didn’t realize it’d be this wordy!!!!!

[qqueenofhades]

the dragons on the map: v

Rating: M Summary:  After the Lifeboat is nearly destroyed, the Time Team ends up stranded in their strangest and most unfamiliar destination yet: 1195 France. With Rittenhouse to stop, medieval adventures to be had, and a pair of rival kings at war, it’ll truly be a miracle if they ever get home. (Garcy/Lyatt/pre-Garcyatt, Flogan, Rufus Is Judging, general Time Team relationships and bonding. Guest appearances from the Plantagenets, for reasons.) Available: AO3

The training yard is a square of roped-off mud, about twenty feet by twenty, decidedly at odds with what Wyatt was expecting. To be fair, he doesn’t know what he was expecting (motto of the entire trip, and frankly his damn life in general) – the fancy grandstands from A Knight’s Tale, complete with blasting Queen songs? No, probably not. There’s a weathered scarecrow thing with a padded crossbeam, which Flynn says is called a quintain. When Wyatt skeptically asks if they’re supposed to be hitting it, Flynn informs him that he’s welcome to. It’s jousting practice, actually. For twelve-year-olds.

“Jousting?” Wyatt repeats. “That’s the thing where they ride at each other with lances, right? Big tournament, fair maidens? That doesn’t sound that hard.”

Flynn carefully does not look over his shoulder at the fair maiden sitting on the steps of the bailey and watching them both, but Wyatt still senses the way his head wants to turn. Then he says, “Yes, something like that. But they aren’t quite the lavish chivalric spectacle that they turn into in the thirteenth century and on. They’re war games, training for real battle, and you’d be smeared into a pulp if you went against a squire, let alone a knight. They’re also a public attraction – Richard just licensed them to be imported into England for the first time last year, in order to raise revenue. Popular sporting events.”

Wyatt blinks. “So, Sunday Night Jousting, then? Something like that?”

“Yes. They have football too, actually, though not in any way you’d recognize it. The teams are entire villages, the games can go on for days, and there are definitely no rules.” Flynn pulls his sword out of its sheath, tests the edge with a thumb, and licks the small cut. “Right, we can’t train with these. I’d kill you. And that would be very enjoyable, believe me, but right now, it would also be a bigger problem.”

“You’re a riot.” Wyatt does not want to admit it, but he is somewhat relieved that Flynn and bladed weapons are not going to be paired against him. “So what?”

Flynn nods to the rack of blunt-edged practice swords. But as Wyatt starts toward them, Flynn says, “No, not that one. Take a wooden one.”

“Let me guess,” Wyatt snaps. “Because that’s the one for kids?”

“Well, it is.” Flynn’s voice is still level, but there’s a sharp anger underneath. “But maybe if you stopped being an arrogant ass for two seconds, realized that you don’t know this world or how to fight in it, and if we’re going to keep Lucy and Rufus safe, you might want to learn. Now what’s more important to you? That, or your pride?”

Wyatt stops short, cheeks flaming. There’s an awkward silence, he resists looking around to see if Lucy heard that, and then finally, nods once. Bends stiffly and gets out a wooden sword, which is heavier than it looks, tapered and fullered to match the weight and heft of a real one. “Okay, fine,” he says. “Are you going to teach me, or just snark?”

“Do you want to be taught?”

“How the hell do you know how to swordfight?”

“I’ve picked up a few techniques here and there,” Flynn says. “The first war I ever fought in, we barely had any guns. And I’ve been in my share of guerrilla campaigns where the best weapons we had were knives. It’s not quite the same thing, but I can adapt.”

Wyatt pauses. Then he nods again and lifts the sword, as Flynn goes over to get a practice one for himself – made out of metal, but without an edge. The first lesson is how to hold it, which is apparently not self-explanatory. Flynn spends ten minutes critiquing Wyatt’s grip, before he moves on to critiquing Wyatt’s footwork. It would probably be similar to fencing, if Wyatt had ever done that (he’s not a rich prep school twit, obviously he has never done fencing) but the technique is entirely different. Fencing is all about control, about grace and skill and poise, elegantly striking blows in targeted spots, with a lightweight rapier that doesn’t have an edge. Maybe if they were still in the eighteenth century and Wyatt was going to have to pull a sword-cane and duel a cravat-wearing rogue in a back alley, that style might be applicable. Here, however, it’s not. This is (or will be) a heavy broadsword. You are not trying to tap your enemy to score aesthetic points, you are trying to kill him, while also preventing him from killing you. You have to be conscious of where you are leaving yourself open for him to get in over or under your guard, how to deflect his attack and turn it back on him, and what parts of you will or will not be protected while doing this. Some knights fight with a shield, but Flynn thinks they need to get the sword down before they try adding that. Likewise, if this was going to be accurate, Wyatt should be wearing a thirty-pound chainmail hauberk. Try jumping and skipping around in that thing. You’ll be winded (and dead) in five minutes.

It only takes about twenty minutes of this, not having gotten anywhere close to an actual sparring match, for Wyatt to begrudgingly realize that Flynn’s plan for them to start at the bottom was a good one. He’s trained Delta Force, he’s not exactly coming at this from scratch, but it’s an entirely different range and focus and engagement with your enemy when you can’t just point a high-powered automatic rifle at them from however many yards away. Wyatt is also realizing that Flynn was not exaggerating at all when he said that real knights would wax the floor with them. These guys are stronger and tougher and better-trained than 99% of modern men, don’t have any of their coddled comforts, and the sword is only one of the weapons they can use. There are also longbows, crossbows, lances, axes, morningstars (the club with a spiky-ass ball on the end), daggers, and God knows what else. Basically, Wyatt thinks, the rule is simple. Do not fight a knight. You will get fucked up, and die.

He's valiantly reminding himself not to check for Lucy’s reaction every two minutes, especially since it’s probably better if she’s not paying close attention to his humiliation, when there’s a stir at the courtyard entrance, and the next second, Richard blows in like a hurricane. Wyatt’s getting the distinct sense that this guy never just walks anywhere. He always has to enter as dramatically and dominantly as possible (has that in common with Flynn, really) and expects to be the absolute center of attention when he does. Flynn breaks off from their lesson at once and turns to incline his head, so Wyatt does the same, and out of the corner of his eye, he sees Lucy scramble to her feet. Gotta make sure you look sharp when the big boss strolls into the room, after all.

Richard comes to a halt and eyes them appraisingly, as if he’s pleased that they took his advice to hit the gym. He and Flynn exchange a jocular few words which Wyatt, yet again, can’t understand (this is really getting old – do they have a crash course or whatever? Because he’d take it). Then Richard raises an eyebrow at them in an expectant fashion, nods at Wyatt’s wooden sword, and asks Flynn something else. Flynn answers with a succinct few words that, Wyatt has no doubt, are casting all kinds of shade on his sword-related abilities, then turns to him and switches back to English. “He wants to know if we’ll give him a demonstration. Wants to see how we do.”

“What, so you have the chance to beat me up in front of Richard?” Wyatt is at least under no illusions about how that would go. “Look, man, you’re right. I suck at this, okay? You don’t need to keep rubbing it in.”

“King’s orders.” Flynn looks at him goadingly. “And the one thing Richard hates the most, on any side and any stripe, is cowards.”

Wyatt grits his teeth and swears inventively. Mostly under his breath, but he does as ordered. Backs up ten paces from Flynn, as Lucy gets to her feet and takes a few steps closer. It’s not clear whether she thinks she has a shot at stopping this, or she’s preparing to administer emergency medical intervention once it goes horribly wrong. At least without edges on the swords, they can’t do each other too much damage, but being whacked at full force over the head with a heavy blunt object is never exactly therapy. Lucy does her cute little awkward curtsy to Richard, who nods back regally, but it’s clear where his attention lies. Flynn raises his sword into a loose guard, and Wyatt does the same. They eye each other up and down. Then, on Richard’s command, they charge.

The only thought Wyatt has time for is that it is, in fact, really a good thing he’s not doing this while riding a horse, wearing a shit-ton of armor, and trying to control a ten-foot-long stick with a piece of very sharp iron on the end, and he will definitely apologize to any jouster he meets for dissing them. The next second, there’s no time for thinking at all. It becomes clear at once that yes, Flynn was setting it on beginner level for him (and Wyatt doesn’t honestly think that he should have acquired years and years of hard-won competence in one brief lesson, but still). Flynn himself isn’t a world-level expert, maybe, but that doesn’t matter. In fact, Wyatt realizes after about two excruciating minutes that Flynn is still pulling his punches, just a bit. Maybe to make this take longer, since he can’t keep hitting Wyatt at his leisure if it’s all over in an instant, or maybe (much as Wyatt disbelieves the possibility) not to completely destroy him in front of Richard. Flynn has even tilted his head once or twice, or hissed at him through his teeth, as if to hint to him where to hit or how to move. Wyatt sometimes gets these clues, and sometimes doesn’t. Mostly the latter.

The end result is that after about five minutes, Wyatt pretty sure he will have more bruises than skin tomorrow, and well aware that Flynn allowed him to get in the counterattacks that he did, he is smartly disarmed by Flynn and his sword goes flying. Oh God, and Lucy’s standing right there, because this just needed to get worse. Wyatt raises his hands. “Yield,” he growls. “That’s what you say, right?”

“Yes.” Flynn looks extremely smug. Of course he fucking does. Then he turns to Richard, who has been watching with an extremely critical air, and remarks something in a tone that does not need much translation, though Flynn provides it anyway. “He says that I’m bad and you’re terrible, and he really hopes we didn’t come here intending to be soldiers.”

That rocks Wyatt, given that he and Flynn are soldiers, and by the standards of their own time, pretty damn good ones. He wipes the sweat off his brow and realizes that an audience of about a dozen castle retainers and servants and so on have trickled in while the fight was going on; the king rarely goes anywhere by himself, after all. Great, more witnesses. He finds himself actually hoping that Flynn told Richard that he was in fact a manservant, so his general ineptitude can be forgiven. You know what, screw swords. If it’s necessary, he’ll just throw it away and punch someone in the face. (This plan will backfire if they have a sword, which they undoubtedly will, but Wyatt’s frustrated. Sue him.)

Wyatt wipes a trickle of blood from his nose and glances around, realizing that Rufus isn’t among the onlookers. That’s not entirely weird, since he said he was going off for a nap, but given as it’s the longest time they’ve been apart since landing, and there’s still the strong possibility of a Rittenhouse assassin lurking around a corner to do in Eleanor, it makes Wyatt nervous. He’s about to suggest that he go off to look for Rufus when Richard says something that makes everyone’s heads swivel around. Flynn, for the first time, looks unnerved, and Wyatt abruptly changes his mind. Rufus is probably fine. If Flynn is going to get pantsed, he wants to stick around and see it.

Whatever Richard has said, it also makes Lucy look a little worried, and she opens her mouth as if to say something, before clearly remembering that this is not a situation where she will have any influence whatsoever. Wyatt glances at her, struggling to repress the usual prickle in his stomach that she seems more anxious about Flynn possibly being hurt than about him. “What did he say?”

“He wants to spar Flynn himself,” Lucy supplies, after a pause. “With real swords.”

Oh-ho. This just got interesting. Wyatt supposes it’s too much to hope that Richard will flay Flynn to a pulp, though he knows that they can’t actually let that happen, and Richard probably won’t do it anyway. (If nothing else, because it shuts off the possibility of anything else later.) “Is he allowed to do that?”

“He’s the king,” Lucy says wryly. “He can do whatever he wants. And he was – is – known for his bravery, it’s how he got his nickname, and a total disregard of danger. He always fought in the front lines in all his wars and he loves getting his hands dirty, he’s not some modern royal who waves from a balcony and cuts ribbons.”

Wyatt knows a little of this. He read a book on the crusades while he was in Afghanistan, because there was not a lot else to do in the desert and because a lot of people kept saying the post-9/11 War on Terror looked like a modern one, and he wanted to know if that was true. He still isn’t sure, though he remembers the parts about Richard kicking a lot of ass. The siege of Acre, the battles of Arsuf and Jaffa, the siege of – Wyatt can’t remember the name, but it started with D – and a few others. This guy can take on half a dozen fully trained knights at the same time, he’s legendary for a reason. Oh please, oh please, oh please make Flynn fight him. Even he is going to have his hands full and then some.

There is a brief move among the retainers as if someone should probably discourage Richard from doing this, but it’s clearly part of his daily schedule anyway, and nobody wants to take on that thankless task. Richard shucks his cloak, rolls up his sleeves, and ties his thick red-gold hair back, then steps into the ring with a quick, agile motion. He’s just as tall as Flynn, and in an age before protein shakes, there is still a lot of lean muscle. Wyatt finds himself looking a little too long, in fact, and glances over at Flynn instead. He looks intimidated, if only briefly. Better you than me, pal.

Flynn changes out his practice sword for the real one he wore from Paris, and Richard draws his own. Wyatt thinks that if by some mad fluke, Flynn is the one to hurt and/or kill Richard and that’s the reason history gets fucked up, Rittenhouse is really going to have a nice long evil chuckle later. Even he can’t do that. Right?

The combatants pace backward, as before. Lucy makes a brief, nervous sound in her throat and clutches at Wyatt’s arm, and he refrains from voicing his desire that Flynn comes out of this with an equal number of injuries – it’s only fair, after all. Still, any substantial medical care is going to be a bitch in the twelfth goddamn century, and Wyatt doesn’t want him dead. (Well, that’s still up for debate, but anyway. Certainly not before they get home. And besides, nobody gets to kill Flynn apart from him. It’s a very confusing relationship.)

Richard nods at Flynn, who nods back. With that, and no further preliminary, the fight starts.

Contrary to Flynn and Wyatt charging each other like a pair of maddened warthogs, neither Flynn nor Richard moves to close the gap immediately. They circle instead, deliberate and consideringly. Flynn, who is not an idiot, is not about to race headlong at Richard the goddamn Lionheart, though Wyatt still kind of wishes he would. Both of them feint briefly, as if trying to draw the other into an attack, but neither of them falls for it. They step closer, and then closer, as the crowd seems to be holding its breath. Annoyingly, Wyatt is too.

There is a final instant, and then Richard spots an opening. He goes for it almost too fast to see, as Flynn is forced to duck rather than try to block it, and this puts him off his footing for Richard’s next attack, which whistles through the air sharply enough to make even Wyatt wince. Flynn manages to get off half a parry, as the swords tangle and screech with a flash of sparks, and Lucy’s grip tightens on Wyatt’s arm. Under other circumstances, this might be more enjoyable, but his attention is too fixated on the fight. He can’t help it. It’s… a lot.

Flynn twists his head out of the way of another series of surgically precise blows, finally gets his feet under him enough to try a proper counterattack, and Richard flicks it off like a man swatting a fly. He is holding his sword easily in one hand, while Flynn is using two, and after a pause, as if to make it more sporting, Richard shrugs and switches it to his left hand. Flynn backs up and considers him, breathing hard, a small nick in one eyebrow that is bleeding down his face. Wyatt feels an absurd urge to do the wave, which he suppresses. He’s also pretty sure you’re not supposed to cheer for anyone except the king in this situation, but he finds himself raising his voice anyway. “Hey, come on, Flynn. Come on, Flynn!”

Lucy gives him a surprised sidelong look, though she seems too nervous to actually say anything out loud. There’s a few-second interlude as Flynn catches his breath, which seems as graciously allowed to him by Richard as his hints were to Wyatt. It’s clear that the possibility of hurting Richard and pissing him off is also on his mind, though Wyatt’s realizing that the only way Flynn could kill him is if Richard dropped his sword, stood dead still, and let him do it (which seems, to say the least, unlikely). It’s almost vindicating to realize that even Flynn has met a historical figure he simply cannot brush out of the way, as he has done on noted occasions before, and that indeed, said historical figure is whupping his ass. Wyatt knows that Flynn is a machine. Someone this much better than him is scary.

After a final moment, Flynn apparently decides to hell with it, and closes in for an all-out barrage. Now they are really going at it, Richard’s sword flicking and flashing and scraping up and down and side to side as none of Flynn’s blows even get near him, though it looks like it’s taking slightly more of an effort than before. They end up briefly almost nose to nose, then Richard does something very fast, Flynn’s arm gets twisted behind him, and his sword goes flying. The next instant, the tip of Richard’s is at his throat, Flynn is on his back in the mud and breathing like he’s been chased by a train, and raises his hands. “Je cède.”

Richard pauses, then grins. Sheathes his sword, offers Flynn a hand up, and the two of them slap each other’s shoulders and pound each other’s backs in the time-honored tradition of men everywhere. Watching it, and having the distinct impression that Flynn has just earned Richard’s respect, sends another strange twist through Wyatt’s chest. God, this… happens all the time, doesn’t it? All the time. Reflexive as being sick. He doesn’t even like Flynn, but he also doesn’t like it that Flynn seems to be getting so chummy with Richard. And for Richard dismissing Wyatt in one word as “terrible” and not paying him a single bit of attention since… it’s not that he wants Richard to notice him, at least maybe not in the same way he’s clearly noticed Flynn, and yet…

Wyatt swallows, not even sure what’s lodged in his stomach, other than it feels cold and heavy and he is only now wondering how long it’s been there. Is it the scrawny kid who grew up in a West Texas double-wide where everything was always broken, they were so poor that they ate off reused paper plates, and whenever he went to school, he was consumed by jealousy for the kids with their fancy clothes and backpacks and parents who picked them up in gleaming SUVs? Hell, those kids weren’t even rich; there wasn’t exactly Dallas oil-baron money where he grew up, though there were plenty of the stiffs who worked the pumpjacks. But everyone was rich to that angry, dirty kid who got C’s in class, hid his bruises from the teachers, and went to Bible study for three years before they cottoned on that he was only there for the free food and none of the Jesus stuff had stuck. Wyatt spent his entire childhood being madly, soul-deep, burningly jealous of the whole world, and maybe the habit has stuck far deeper than he ever realized. Anything that anyone else has, he wants it, no matter how many problems it’s caused him as an adult. It’s how he lost Jessica the first time, and arguably the second time as well. It’s how he’s fucked things up with Lucy. And now, it just hits automatically because of course it does, and he can’t tell if it’s aimed at Flynn or Richard or both of them, and…

Wyatt turns away, staring up at the castle walls, which have gone dark as the sun has vanished behind them. It’s close to sunset, it will be dinner soon, with whatever they’re supposed to do at identifying and catching the Rittenhouse bastards. God, how the fuck has a white-trash gearhead poor boy from West Texas ended up in this job? Standing in medieval France before the great-great-great-great-granddaddy of America is even invented, let alone most of the modern world, with his time-traveling companions, trying to wrap his head around him being more jealous of either his nemesis or Richard the Lionheart. God, this is too much. It was supposed to go away when he drove his dad’s car into the lake and rose up from the water, the closest to a baptism he was ever going to get. It was supposed to go away.

“Wyatt?” They might be estranged, but Lucy has still sensed his distress. “Are you okay?”

“What?” Wyatt harrumphs, clears his throat, and forces a smile. “Oh yeah. Fine. I gotta say, that was pretty good. Watching Flynn get his tail whipped for a change.”

It was, at that, though it feels more artificial than he might have expected, and she glances at him for a moment longer, with some concern. Then she glances back at Flynn, who is still breathing hard, but grinning, as he talks to Richard. Richard claps him on the shoulder again, then goes over and climbs out of the ring, putting back on his cloak and striding out of the yard. The coterie hurries after him, and the bells from the church just down the way start striking the evening hour – which, Wyatt remembers, is Vespers. Supper will be soon.

He turns around to see that Lucy has gone over to Flynn and is checking if he’s been any more hurt than a few gashes and bruises. Wyatt’s first impulse is to make some sort of passive-aggressive comment to her later about how she didn’t do that for him, but then, she did just ask if he was all right, and he deflected. Jesus. Maybe try something different, for goddamn once? So he awkwardly crab-walks over and clears his throat. “I think you took it way easier on me than he did on you. That was pretty hardcore.”

Flynn’s mouth twists up wryly, as if understanding that that is close as Wyatt can presently come to a compliment, and they nod at each other again. Then Flynn says, “No, he definitely took it easy. If he was actually trying to kill me, I’ve have been dead twenty minutes ago.”

“So, moral of the story, don’t give him any real reason to kill us.” Wyatt wonders how well that would concord with Richard finding out that they’ve been sent by his mortal enemy to spy on them, and decides that the answer would be: hella not. Great. “He seemed to think you didn’t completely suck, though? Right?”

“He said I fought well,” Flynn acknowledges. It’s a small but genuine smile that pulls at his mouth this time, and it does further unwelcome things to Wyatt’s insides. “Anyway, we need to get changed for supper. Where’s Rufus? We should probably find him.”

“I’ll go look for him.” For once, Wyatt doesn’t feel the need to hang around to spy on Lucy and Flynn, and would welcome some time to gather his thoughts. “Go and see what – whatever we’re staying. Do we actually know that yet?”

“I don’t think so.” Lucy glances at Flynn. “Come on.”

With that, they head off, and Wyatt goes in the opposite direction, where they last spotted Rufus. Part of him wonders if it was really a great idea to let Rufus wander off by himself, and his anxiety is humming in his chest as he speeds up (well, so much as one can speed up) the tower staircase. Reaches the top, starts out, and –

It’s really an unfortunate thing for Wyatt that he just got beaten once, and hence is already in less than tip-top shape, as he catches a whirling shadow out of the corner of his eye. The next instant his head is cracked hard against stone, he sees stars, and flails out to punch wildly, thinking that he really was not counting on having this makeshift theory of self-defense tested so soon. At least his opponent does not seem to have a sword, not that that’s really a fucking comfort, and as his spinning vision resolves to see a long, thin dagger at his throat (did Flynn call that a poniard?), the person holding it is absolutely no comfort at all. She is grinning in a satisfied manner, red wisps of hair escaping from her braids. “You know,” she says. “I guess some things just never change no matter the century, huh? Like you getting your butt kicked by absolutely everyone.”

“You.” Wyatt grits his teeth. “Great.”

“Me.” Emma sits a little more solidly on top of him, green skirts flooded on the floor, as she twists the poniard leisurely into the hollow of his throat. “Had a nice view for your Braveheart session earlier. Very. . . stirring.”

“Where’s Rufus, you bitch?”

“Oh, look. Nobody’s ever called me that before. Really original.” Emma grins, canines sharp and white. “As for Rufus, I don’t know. You tell me.”

Wyatt considers the odds of knocking her off without getting stabbed in the neck, which at the moment, look bad. Besides, it sounds as if she hasn’t actually seen Rufus yet, and therefore is trying to get him to cough it up. Maybe Rufus saw her, but was hopefully smart enough to immediately hide, or at least stay out of the way until she was gone. Trying to keep her talking, Wyatt says, “So is that your big plan, then? Turn up here and what – convince Richard to marry you? Get knocked up, hope it’s a boy, then kill him?”

Emma makes a scathing noise in her throat. “God. Me? Are you crazy? Do you think there was ever the tiniest chance that I was going to settle down as some submissive, wimple-wearing, embroidering little medieval dormouse to pop out royal babies? Like I got through Caltech for that. Besides, aren’t you the one who should be more concerned about that? Jessica misses you, by the way. She thinks I don’t know, but I do.”

That catches Wyatt more solidly between the eyes than any of either Flynn or Emma’s blows. He tries to summon up something snarky, but it gets lost. “Oh?” he says at last, as coolly as possible, which is not very. “Does she?”

“Yeah. Couple months along now, she’s getting a little poochy. And probably broody too.” Emma shrugs. “Like I said. Misses you.”

“Look.” Wyatt hates hearing the pleading note in his voice, but he can’t help it. “You did whatever you did to Jess, and – fine, just – just don’t hurt her and my kid, all right?  Please.”

“Why would we have to hurt her? As long as she’s a loyal member of Rittenhouse, she doesn’t have anything to fear.” Emma is clearly enjoying this, stringing him out, taunting and testing him. “In fact, you’re the one who’s hurting your presumable unborn child more, trying to stop what we’re planning. Then again, Wyatt, really. When do you ever make the right call? Jessica’s useful, sure. And like I said, she thinks I don’t know that I’m on to her. But if she steps too far out of line, well. . .”

“Please. Jesus, please!” Even as he begs, Wyatt knows that it’s not going to do any good, that Emma can and will kill Jess and the baby too if she poses too much of a threat. Maybe they can keep her delayed in the past somehow, but as long as she has control of the Mothership, she could still transmit the order. “You bastards brought her back as some version of herself that always remembered being one of you, and then you’d just kill her?”

“You got her killed last time. Remember?” Emma raises both gingery eyebrows. “Or is that something else you’ve selectively forgotten?”

Wyatt doesn’t know what to say. He clearly cannot in good conscience endanger his own child, especially when he’s just been thinking about his own upbringing, how his father failed on every level. Nor can he agree to endanger Lucy, Flynn, Rufus (again), and all of history, either, especially when it’s already been a clear struggle to build back what he’s blown. There’s another queasy pause as they stare at each other. Then Emma says, “I’ll make it really simple for you. You don’t tell your friends that I’m here for, oh, another twenty-four hours. Or, if someone has tragically already spilled the beans, you divert or deflect or whatever else. One more day. Easy, huh? Then Jess and Wyatt Junior are safe. You know, I really hope it doesn’t take after you. That would just be depressing.”

“One day, huh?” Wyatt tries to sound offhand. “So you can get your evil ducks in a row?”

Emma shrugs. “The idea is that you don’t interfere for that time, yes. Your call. If you’ll excuse me, I’ve got to change.”

With that, she slides off him, gets to her feet, twirls the poniard away, and strolls down the corridor and out of sight. Wyatt lies there for several more stunned moments, before gathering the wherewithal to pick himself up and stumble in the other direction. It’s dark enough now that torches and lanterns are starting to be lit across the castle, and he emerges into the courtyard, into the cool spring evening, and follows the crowd across into the hall. It’s loud with talk and laughter, though it doesn’t look like the meal has started yet, and he spots Lucy, Flynn, and – thank God – Rufus seated at the high table. If there is royal favor to be had, it appears they’re in it, and Wyatt squirms through the crush to the empty chair at their side. “Hey,” he says weakly. “Rufus, looks like you’re fine after all, huh?”

“Yeah, though that was in doubt for a little while there,” Rufus says. “I gotta tell you, I just told Lucy and Flynn. Emma’s here, I saw her in a corridor earlier. Obviously, I hid from her like a sane person until she was gone, but – ”

“Are you. . .” God, Wyatt hates doing this. “Are you sure it was her?”

Rufus gives him an odd look. “I’m pretty sure I recognize the woman who shot me, yes.”

Wyatt grimaces. Lucy and Flynn are also staring at him as if wondering if he’s all right, and he really, he really needs to try to not totally blow this. Finally he says, “Fine. Yes. I just saw her too. That’s why I’m late to the party. She jumped me back there.”

“So you just tried to get in some bonus gaslighting?” Rufus shakes his head. “Man, you know we’re mostly friends again, but what the hell?”

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry. She. . .” They’re gonna take this really well, by which Wyatt means they’re not. “She threatened to kill Jess and my kid if we didn’t let her have free rein for twenty-four hours, all right?”

There’s a communal grimace and wince visible on the other three, which all things considered, is fair. “Great,” Rufus says. “Another award-winning episode of Wyatt Screws Us Over, now available on – what’s even more prehistoric than VHS? Betamax?”

“It’s my kid, all right? I know none of you trust Jess, and yes, I know I messed it up, but – what was I supposed to do, just agree to it?”

“No,” Flynn says, which is an unexpected choice of ally. Then again, he is obviously sensitive to the idea of Rittenhouse murdering people’s children. “And I’m surprised you told us, though I don’t think you would have if Rufus hadn’t first.”

Wyatt winces. Cruel, but again, fair. “I know we can’t let Emma just do whatever for a day without trying to stop her, but – guys, can we just. . . think about this?”

“Sure,” Flynn says. “We find her tonight and kill her. Problem solved.”

It’s on the tip of Wyatt’s tongue to say that there’s no guarantee this will keep Jess safe too, but he knows he can’t push it. Just then, there’s a stir and a fanfare, and everyone clatters to their feet, pulling off caps and hoods, as the hall doors swing open and Richard and Eleanor enter, arm in arm. They’ve both changed for dinner into matching green velvet that sets off the fire in their hair, tall and stately and beautiful, and the torchlight catches on the gems and gilt. They clearly enjoy looking good for the masses, and process up to the dais, where two servants, tabards emblazoned with the twin lions, pull back their chairs for them. They graciously sit, and Richard waves a hand, beckoning everyone else to do the same. There’s a clatter and a scrape as they do, and Richard says grace in Latin. After the murmured “Amen,” hands move to cross themselves, and servants enter with the food.

Despite Wyatt’s brief panic that this was going to be some big fancy feast, it’s not actually that formal, and after the day they have had, they’re starving. It’s definitely the best they’ve eaten thus far, as is only fitting at the king’s table. There are small roast birds in rich creamy sauce, seasoned with exotic (and extremely expensive) spices like saffron and pepper. Shellfish soup, venison boiled in almond milk, mutton and onions baked into flaky pastry shells, meat and mince pies, and more. There’s also some kind of tender white-meat fish in butter and garlic that looks very appetizing, until Flynn informs them that it is lamprey, aka a kind of small blood-sucking eel. Big delicacy. No one’s sure they feel up to trying that (Rufus snatches back his knife in a hurry). But there’s a lot to sample instead, it’s all very tasty, and there’s also plenty to drink. The servants are keen to keep filling their goblets, and have to be firmly discouraged. They need to keep clear heads.

Flynn gets distracted in talking to Richard, and Lucy is gazing adoringly down the table at Eleanor. Wyatt and Rufus sit side by side rather awkwardly, until Rufus mutters out of the corner of his mouth, “Mind not trying to make me look like a liar and/or an idiot again?”

“I’m sorry.” Wyatt stares down at his plate. “Emma just – caught me off guard.”

“Yeah. She’s good at doing that. You can’t still keep trying to play both sides, remember? Jessica chose Rittenhouse, not you. She’s not going to care if we die, and let me remind you that some of us already did, so. . .” Rufus hesitates. “Maybe we don’t have any responsibility to care whether she does. I know it’s complicated since she’s pregnant and all that. But if we still can’t trust you to pull your weight, or actively go against us – that’s going to be a problem. I’m not gonna pussyfoot around.”

“I know.” Wyatt blows out a bleak breath. “I’m going to be there for you, for all of you. I want to do better. I swear.”

“That’s nice,” Rufus says. “I mean it. I really hope you will be. But you know that I’m with Lucy and Flynn on this. There’s gonna have to be more than just talk.”

Wyatt looks at him, trying to think what else to say, when he’s distracted by a movement at one of the nearby tables. One of the noblemen, moving as if to scratch his nose, then dropping his hand out of sight. There’s something about that which seems off. Or rather, Wyatt knows exactly what it reminds him of, but it’s not something that you’re supposed to see here, not when they’ve spent the afternoon with the weapons of choice, not when –

“HEY!” Wyatt jumps to his feet, rocking the trestle table and startling everyone. He whirls toward Eleanor, who looks (understandably) startled. “MA’AM, DUCK!”

Obviously, she doesn’t understand him, she’s staring at him like he’s lost his mind, and Wyatt’s pretty sure that tackling the queen is going to get him beheaded pronto. But he doesn’t have time to waste, and he doesn’t know what the bleeding blue hell Rittenhouse is playing at, trying to assassinate her with a modern weapon in full sight of everyone. Not to mention her legendarily talented-at-kicking-ass son, who will tear the killer literally limb from limb the instant he gets his hands on him. This seems wrong, this seems very wrong, but they still can’t take that chance. Otherwise –

Wyatt launches himself at Eleanor –

– just as, all the more shockingly given that pistols won’t be invented for oh, another five hundred years, the shot goes off.

[the-crippled-god]

Steam Next Fest, October 2021

Here’s a few sentences on the demos I’ve played thus far. We’ll see if I get to more...

A=B: Of the genre of 'Esolang programming games' (of which there are many), this might be one of the easiest to get into. However, nearly all the fun is going to come out of weird tricks you can pull off with the new instructions added in each section, which kinda defeats the premise. That being said, I was pleasantly surprised at how clever the game let me be with the the base 'one instruction'. It's not really programming, it's pattern matching and replacing (that being said, folks are starting to work out that well implemented pattern matching is one of the most powerful tools a programming language can have), and a condition that if a rule matches, the instructions start over, rather than continue. I wonder if there's any real world langs that behave like this, but support regex patterns (including capture groups), it might actually be a neat way of building things like custom file renaming rules... Games like this always feel like I'm doing work while not at work, but the simplicity of the base instruction makes this feel more like a puzzle game than something like TIS-100 or Shenzen IO, so provided the extra instructions don't make it feel more like programming (avoid adding branching, don't let me loop beyond the base loop, etc.), I'll probably enjoy this. Verdict: interesting, I'll probably buy it if it's cheap.

Galaxy's Extreme: This is another "Nintendo won't make a new F-Zero game so we'll do it ourselves", and it's... fine. Momentum feels good, and the controls feel good, it's just, too simplistic. I really feel like a spiritual successor to F-Zero needs the strafe and slide turning of GX (or some equivalent), without absurd goofy snaking, it's just, not the same, let alone an escalation of the style. You also only seem to leave the ground and prescribed points, rather than behaving like a hover craft, which doesn't quite feel right. Verdict: I'll probably pass on this one, if it gets rave reviews on release, and has online multiplayer, I could see grabbing it to play casually with friends.

Rayze: There's a good idea here, this isn't a good implementation of it. Momentum feels weird, and the game doesn't use raw mouse input, for some reason. An 'Aim racer' feels like a good idea, but this is more of a puzzle game where you're trying to work out how the level designer wants you to click things. Verdict: pass, absolutely not for me.

Dread Delusion: Open world immersive sim, focused on being weird. Seems alright, demo is a little too limited to tell, and I allocated my stats wrong to be able to see all of it (you seem to need high Lore to get to a few areas), but I enjoyed what was here, and will probably pick it up as just a weird thing to explore. Verdict: neat, be interested to see how the full version is.

Titanium Hound: This one looked cool, but it's really not good. Sounds in the menus are ear piercing, control scheme makes no sense on either the keyboard or controller. None of the attacks feel like they have impact. Controls are floaty and weird, like everything is on ice. Enemy sounds are muted, music is boring. Verdict: Really disappointed in this one, hard pass.

Transiruby: C...Cute... This seems like a fun light hearted metroidvania. Dialogue is witty, Siruby and pals are cute. Music is charming. Controls are tight. Graphics lean a little to simple for my tastes, but otherwise no complaints. Verdict: I'll probably buy this, seems like a good coping game for me.

Gastova: The Witches of Arkana: Meh. Some of the cutscene and character detail art is cute. Writing feels like it has a good premise, but could use an editor to punch up the jokes and quips a bit, since they don't quite land. It's almost like English isn't the writers first language, they have a good grasp of how to put words together so they're coherent, but they're not great at pacing dialogue so it feels natural. Gameplay is, bland? This feels aggressively like a 3rd party SNES platformer, like a Super Adventure Island or something. This is in all respects. It eats inputs randomly, attacks have no impact, enemies take too many hits, basic platoforming requires you stand on the very edge of the platforms, etc. I'm sure there are people who will get a kick out of this, but it's not for me. Verdict: pass.

Ex-Zodiac: It's a Starfox clone! Kinda halfway between SNES and 64. It's pretty good, not really doing anything original, but it plays well. Only weird issue I noticed is that enemies behind you can shoot at you, and there's not really a way to avoid it. Other than that my main complaint is the camera feels a little tight, definitely more like Starfox SNES, and it's a bit annoying. Verdict: I'll wishlist it, purchase is going to depend on the length and price of the full game.

Exo One: Interesting, likely not for me. I dig the movement scheme, though certain aspects of it suffer from the minimal UI/HUD. Manoeuvring through big wide open Unity terrain maps is not really compelling to me, I think I'd really like this if it was a more concentrated experience. Verdict: Pass, but I'll keep an eye on it.

POSTAL Brain Damaged: Hell yeah, this seems good. Think I like it more than Postal 4, at least in its current state. Writing is very Postal, except weirdly more subtle than usual? Dunno, this I like it more than Postal's usual crassness. Weapons are all versatile and cool (in the demo the rocket launcher weirdly feels the worst), and level design and aesthetics are on point. Didn't finish the demo cause I'd kinda rather play this on release, but really liked what I played. Verdict: Wishlisted, to pick up next time I'm in the mood for a boomer shooter.

Hypnagogia: Boundless Dreams: I was expecting something different. This seems to be a mostly linear 1st person platformer set in a childish dreamscape. It's fine for what it is, but at least as a demo, it didn't grab me. I think Anodyne 2 did this aesthetic better, this kinda feels like someone looked at Spyro the Dragon, and decided that's what dreams looked like. Maybe it gets weirder later, but I'm not sure I want to wait around to find out. Verdict: Pass for now, but I'll check the reviews when it comes out.

Cleo: A Pirate's Tale: It's alright, for a one person game, it seems pretty dang good. But, I don't think I'll play it. Everything about it is just a little off. Writing isn't quite funny, voice acting has weird intonation and direction, controls don't quite work intuitively, art style feels a touch unrealized, etc. Definitely give this one a try, especially if you liked old LucasArts games, you might love this, but I didn't. Verdict: Pass, but I have a few friends I'll probably recommend this to.

Hunt the Night: There's a good (potentially great) game here, but it leans just a little too into being difficult/punishing for my taste. You can animation cancel into a dash, except when there's hit stun from contacting an enemy with your sword, so you can't dodge ranged attacks while you're engaged in melee? Sometimes enemies are hit stunned by your attacks, sometimes the same enemies can attack through your hits? There's no stamina bar, but there's like 4 different meters to manage, and they work pretty well at forcing you to use all the options available to you. The weapons I found seemed to only differ in attack speed, melee combos did not change meaningfully, which is disappointing, but I didn't experiment much. Otherwise, for a 'bloodborne but as top-down zelda' it seems pretty great. Story seems interesting enough, if predictable, gameplay has a lot of good ideas, but it maybe needs another round of polish. A range indicator on the dash, and a solid explanation of if I'm suppose to be using it to dodge (and when I can cancel into a dodge and when I can't), along with a clear timer on how long I need to hold the heal button, would go a long way into making the game feel more fair. Verdict: On wishlist for now, because the trailer makes it look really fun, but I'll likely take a look at the reviews on release.

Anuchard: I swear I've seen this main character design before, I think they were a cameo design in CrossCode? Oh wow is English not the writer's first language, grammar issues all over the place. Thankfully, not so bad as to be incomprehensible, but I really hope they get an editor fluent in English before release. Gameplay wise, this seems a little too simple? Combat is satisfying, but you can stun lock the boss? And while the shield/heavy attack system seems like a good idea, it doesn't add much depth. Puzzle solving by bouncing the gems around feels bad. You can't aim in more than the 8 cardinal directions, and even that's inconsistent, and hit detection requires you to be really precise. Art is cute, writing seems like it has potential, if it gets a good proof read, music was interesting to good. Verdict: I think I'll pass, but I'll look into it after release.

Marmoreal: Can you tell this game wanted to be a Touhou fangame, but the art was worse than even ZUNs so they couldn't get the license? Joking aside, ignoring every art asset in this game (except the animation, but we'll get to that), this game is great. Gameplay feels really good, though I feel I need to re-map the abilities buttons a bit, I kept hitting them at inopportune times. And, the animation in cutscenes, along with the writing, make this a stupid ridiculous romp that nearly had me falling off my chair in laughter. This game knows exactly what it is, and I'm here for it. Verdict: Wishlisted, and I'll probably play more of the demo, since it's pretty substantial.

Transmute: A very clearly inspired by Axiom Verge (and maybe Environmental Station Alpha) metroidvania. My biggest complaint is the writing falls flat. Crazy shit is happening to and around the protag, and she hardly reacts (the writing puts more emphasis on her being 'anti-colonialist' than it does on the fact that she'd been in stasis for several years). Game plays well, though not being able to shoot at an angle, or downwards feels weird. Has an augment and retrieval system like Hollow Knight. the augment system even let me combine 2 things I didn't think it would allow me to. Difficulty spikes up after the 2nd boss, so I peaked my head into the 2 areas that open up, but wasn't really interested in banging my head against them when I know I'll have to start over when the game comes out. Verdict: Seems pretty well put together for a metroidvania, I'll wishlist it.

Tunic: This seems so close to brilliance, but it's just not there. The game looks adorable, but here's the issue: There's a massive amount of latency to the controls, you constantly feel like you're manoeuvring through muck. Even the most basic enemy can react to you faster than you can to it, enemies do a lot of damage, healing is very limited, and it has retrieval mechanics on death. This game feels really difficult for no reason. It's clearly trying to look like zelda, why does it play like a wannabe took-all-the-wrong-lessons-from-dark-souls game? If this game played closer to a 2d zelda game, it'd be a lot of fun, but as it plays right now, I have no interest. Verdict: Pass.

[a-table-of-fics]

Cull to Adventure, Chapter 6, Draft 1

“What the SHELL were you thinking?!”

Cull shrunk a little, instinctively tugging an imaginary beanie, hands covering his short, cut tentacles. The Zapfish swam through the air over to the Outpost, humming to himself while settling down by the grate to Inkopolis.

“I-I was just…I had to…”

“I thought I told you to leave! Do you know how much danger you were in? I just… I…”

Marie took a moment to breathe. Looking at Cull was getting hard with him giving her that look. She couldn’t tell if he was going to cry, but it wasn’t worth the risk, really. He did get the Zapfish and make it back alive, after all.

Still, she knew it was only going to get harder from here. He was not going to be dying in enemy territory, no matter how much Marie wanted to find the Zapfish or Callie. Still, he showed potential; he wasn’t the best fighter, but everyone had to start somewhere, and he showed some promise with some workarounds he found.

“Well,” she sighed, “If you’re so insistent on being Agent 4, then you’re gonna have to work on your skills. A lot.”

Cull swallowed, but slowly nodded. He didn’t want something to happen to him either.

Marie thought for a moment, and then lifted the grate over the manhole so the Zapfish could come with them.

“Follow me,” she said, evenly. “I think I know where we can go for that.”

* * *

Ding!

“Coming! One moment!”

Yeah, there weren’t really any clients or anything, what with the energy crisis, but Marie knew that wouldn’t stop Sheldon from constantly tinkering with his wares, ensuring they were as amazingly high-tech as the adverts said.

Soon enough, however, the sparks, flickering lights, and loud buzzing stopped coming from the back room, and the goggled horseshoe crab walked over, climbing a stepladder to look over the desk.

“Hello, how can I help—oh, Marie! What can I do for you?”

“Sheldon, are you able to get the firing range up?”

Sheldon looked over at the door to the testing range, and how much light was not coming from it.

“I mean, I could, but I would need to redirect a lot of power… could take at least 45 minutes…”

The Zapfish wriggled out of Cull’s hands and swam towards the room. He looked at Sheldon expectantly.

“Okay,” Sheldon smiled, “I can work with this… Gimme ten minutes instead.”

Marie nodded while Sheldon and the Zapfish went through that door, then turned back to Cull.

“…Maybe I should’ve had you change back to your civilian clothes before we came here,” she remarked, noting how he was doing his best to hide in the corner, away from the windows.

With the light-up headphones, enormous snow boots, and the yellow Agent jacket, he wasn’t exactly doing a good job.

“Don’t worry, no one else’ll be seeing you in there. I don’t want your cover blown, anyway.”

Agent 4 nodded, relaxing ever so slightly.

There was a long, awkward pause. Marie tapped on the handle of her parasol, looking around at the kaleidoscope of weaponry on display around them, while Cull leaned against the wall, looking at the Spattershot he had been using, and noticing how far removed the yellow peashooter was from everything else.

“Sooo….” Marie finally asked, “Where are you from?”

“…I-I’m from Breakwater Flats,” he replied, flatly.

“Breakwater Flats…” Marie echoed, tapping her chin. “Hmm, I think I might have passed through there once or twice… Not sure though.”

“It’s okay,” Cull shrugged. “Y-you’re not missing much. Just open plains and barns…”

“No, I’m sure it’s a nice place,” Marie replied. “Reminds me of my gramma’s place back in Calamari County.”

She sighed, giving a small smile.

“I remember when Cal—my cousin and I were there. She helped me start singing, did you know that? We used to go through the wheat fields…”

She shook her head.

“…Er, anyway, don’t talk that way about your hometown, okay? Trust me, you’ll miss it someday.”

“Um, o-okay,” Cull said, blinking at that abrupt end. “I’ll keep that in m-mind… You know, I do kinda m-m-miss painting at everyone’s places with the l-leftover berries…”

“There you go!” Marie said. “Gotta remember what made it home, right?”

Cull nodded, then perked up as both he and Marie heard loud clicks from the firing range. The door opened, giving way to quite a bit of light, with only a small, helmeted shadow blocking it. Sheldon peeked out, waving.

“The targets aren’t ready yet, but if you wanna come in, you can get a feel for the layout!”

The two shrugged, walking in. The inside wasn’t much to look at, being more based on function than aesthetics. Some grated platforms here, a few ramps there, and range markers everywhere.

“S-so, should I get started?”

“Yeah, we can make small talk later. Go and ink some turf. Get a feel for the range, or whatever.”

With those words of encouragement, Cull started firing, noting how far he could shoot and how accurate his shots were. Even with his grip on the Splattershot, either his hands were pretty dang shaky or there was an abnormal amount of spread on this ink gun.

Marie was confused by this, too. This was just a modified Splattershot; it should be firing a lot more consistently than this. She stepped over to the side, using her parasol to block stray ink shots as she got a better look. She didn’t know about the mechanics of Inkling weaponry, but she sure recognized shoddy gun handling when she saw it. What was he hoping to accomplish with the Splattershot so far away from himself? Both hands were competing to have the trigger finger, and his arms were always too tense or too slack.

“Hey,” she said before having to duck behind her umbrella again. “HEY!”

That got the rain to stop.

“Right,” she said, trying to ignore his wide eyes looking at her. “You gotta learn how to hold a Splattershot.”

She shook her umbrella dry before setting it under her arm. She stepped in front of a stunned Cull and gently took his wrist.

“Now, see, you want to keep a good grip,” she said, moving his left hand from the trigger guard to under the barrel of the gun. “You only need one finger to pull the trigger, remember.”

“…Mhm.”

“Don’t be scared of it,” Marie continued, pushing the Splattershot closer to Cull’s chest. “You gotta keep it stable, you know?”

Cull nodded shakily.

“Your weapon is a part of you,” she said, stepping back, “So you need to treat it with respect. That’s a rule of the battlefield.”

She looked him up and down. Well, he was holding his gun properly now, but that didn’t do anything to fix his stance. With his legs so close together and his feet pointed slightly inward, it was obvious he would rather be anywhere else. More importantly, though, it would make him quite off-balance in a fight.

Well, one thing at a time. She didn’t want to overwhelm him, after all.

“All right, kid,” Marie said. “Try it again!”

Cull fired again, this time with a far firmer grip. There was a lot less spread, and the range benefitted from Marie’s tips, too.

Marie smiled. It reminded her of when she and Callie were learning how to turf from their Gramps. To think; back then she was spraying and praying, but now she used a Charger all the time!

Man, she remembered she had that same awkward stance back then. It was actually Callie who got her fighting stance down first; the first few sparring matches made that clear to Marie. She was splatted over and over, with only a couple of splats on Callie to show for it. She remembered learning how to grip a Splattershot the same way Cull just did, only with her Gramps showing her. It was Callie, however, who got her to watch her footwork.

And she did it all with her loud, bombastic, fun way of doing everything. When they weren’t practicing with inking or splatting, Callie took her to all kinds of places, from Old Skillet’s rickety abandoned barn to a dance club the kids had made in the woods.

Marie sighed. She couldn’t be like that at all, and she didn’t need the reminder of her missing cousin.

“…H-how’s that?” Cull asked.

“Hmm?” She asked, snapping out of the past. “Oh, yeah, that’s much better, wouldn’t you say? Your wrists’ll last longer, trust me.”

“I s-see…”

Just then, the vaguely squid-shaped dummies filled back up, making for targets Cull could fire at to actually practice. Marie knew that the other area, divided by a massive wall, had moving targets, but for now, she figured a nice, easy break with stationary dummies would be best.

“Well, have at it, kid!”

She walked back and leaned on the wall by the door they came in through. She was ready to give pointers, and hopefully see some results. If Cull was going to be Agent 4, he’d have to fight like an Agent 4!

The next half hour was a cacophony of Splattershot fire and Inkling shouts.

“Get closer first! They can’t attack you.”

“Aim up a little!”

“I-I can’t hit it from here!”

“Lead your shots; get a feel for the speed of ‘em!”

“O-outta ink again?”

“See if you can lob those Bombs!”

“I… I got ‘em!”

Marie had to admit, the firing range looked pretty good in green, but it was getting harder to see Cull’s shots. Besides, even if he was getting more accurate, she found his movement a bit lacking. If she couldn’t get that straightened out, all the basic tracking ability in the world wouldn’t stop him from being turned into grilled sesame squid.

Cull was starting to find a comfortable groove. At least half his shots were hitting the moving targets – he even popped a couple of them now and then! He was starting to feel good about using the Splattershot. If only he had gotten this kind of practice before…

“Hey, kid—”

Out of sheer reflex, he spun around, firing wildly into Marie’s umbrella. It only took a second for him to sheepishly release the trigger, but he still felt it was far too long. He wasn’t sure if Marie’s unfazed eyes made it better or worse, but he wasn’t ready to make eye contact.

“Okay, that’s enough inking,” she said, calmly shaking her umbrella dry. “What say we take a break for a few, huh?”

Cull looked back at the moving dummies he was aiming at. He felt like he only got started - shooting targets was surprisingly easy to pick up.

“I… could go a few more rounds…”

Marie shook her head, giving a small smile.

“C’mon, lunch’ll be on me! You want pineapple-free pizza, or a hot dog or something?”

Agent 4’s stomach answered for him. He didn’t even notice how much of an appetite this adventure was giving him.

“M-maybe a little break…”

He followed Marie to the door. Sheldon watched through the window, and pressed a button on his desk. From several panels in the ceiling came at least twenty small Squee-Gs, already making short work of Cull’s ink as the two of them shut the door behind themselves.

***

After a detour and quick change of clothes, Cull met up with Marie at Mako Mart. His beanie was once again covering his sloppy bowl cut comfortably, his shirt was a more muted color than the yellow hoodie, and his shorts weren’t so tight anymore. Marie noticed an ever-so-slight change in demeanor; instead of sheepishly creeping around, trying not to be seen, he was slowly walking around a bit more casually… trying not to be seen.

The two of them joined the throng of Inklings that were entering the food court; the air conditioning alone made this the coolest place in Inkopolis right now. The line was a little long, but it was moving quickly; they’d have to tip the folks here generously. Soon, they were at the front of the line, with a Jelly awaiting their order.

“Yeah, I’ll take a slice of seafood pizza…and a small Tanker Cola, thanks.”

Marie turned to Cull, gesturing for him to order next. He was silent for a bit, but finally spoke, rubbing his arm awkwardly.

“…a Veggie slice and a…a large Lamprede, please.”

“Sure, fruit punch, orange, or algae?”

Oh, Cod. Cull was not prepared to say much more.

“Um, o-orange?”

The Jelly nodded, ringing them up and getting them two trays. They were lucky to find a table at all, but it was one in the middle, surrounded by everyone else. Cull’s mouth felt dry. Meanwhile, as they sat down, Marie did a double take at something behind him. He turned around to see nothing weird; just an Inkling with that new hairstyle – one big tentacle on the head, with the others tightly packed behind.

“Oh, yeah, Pearl was… was t-talking about the new hairstyle trends…” he said, guessing that’s what she was referring to. “Getting p-pretty big, I hear…”

Marie slowly nodded, trying to ignore the way Cull pulled his hat further down. After a moment of seeing the newer, fresher hairstyles all around, from bulbous afros to slicked-down tentacles, she shrugged and continued eating.

“So… you think you’ll be up for one or two more today?” Marie asked.

Cull gagged on his drink.

“Um…w-what…?”

“You heard me,” Marie said. “There’s more of ‘em out there, and they’re not gonna save themselves, you know?”

“…S-should we really be talking about this here--?”

“Talking about what here?” Marie asked, innocently.

Cull sputtered, and then sat back and sighed.

“…You’re right,” he finally mumbled.

“Hmm?”

“I said you’re right,” he mumbled, a little more loudly.

Marie was kicking herself for not being able to lip-read, and just stared for a moment trying to process what he said in the crowded food court. This did not go unnoticed by Cull, as his eyebrows went from their perpetual worry to mild frustration.

“You’re right!” he said, a little louder than he had to. He could immediately feel several eyes pointed his way for a few seconds, and so he slumped into his chair again. Marie’s look of pity was not helping.

“Y-you wanna just---”

“Let’s j-just go…”

[puttingfingerstokeys]

[untitled]

Nanowrimo day 25 Featuring Link and a whole mess o’ Gerudo babes Fantasy Legend of Zelda, part of a larger project Finished and unedited

Link swung the blade about by the end of its leather line, the other end of which was attached to his wrist by a metallic ring he could easily slide off over his hand. He reversed the direction of the whirling thing in a practiced movement and then tossed himself over the swinging line as the blade arced itself back around. Jerking the line once, hard, he forced the blade into yet another arc, high over his head, pulling in the slack and snatching the handle as it whipped back toward him. A chorus of cheers and wolf whistling resounded from the fence whereupon several Gerudo were perched, each one making some lewd gesture or pumping the air with her fist. 

Link blushed, the heat of the desert sun having done plenty to warm his complexion already, but the red of his cheeks showing vividly nevertheless. This only prompted more whooping and cheers. One of the women actually fell off the fence and the rest of them began jeering at her, instead, taking their eyes and attention momentarily off the Hylian. He sighed heavily and allowed his thick shoulders to sag a bit, his gaze drifting down to the strange new weapon in his hand.

It had been a mere day since he had been handed the blade and briefly instructed how to use it. He had awoken at dawn this morning and had begun practicing it near the archery range behind the fortress. His instructor had not even bothered showing him anything more than how to hold and attach it. She had underestimated him. 

The Hylian had suffered a few cuts and bumps as he learned to properly anticipate the tug and heft of the sword-on-a-line, the Gerudo name for which he could not have pronounced even if the gift of speech had been one in his repertoire. It was not and so he thought of it as SOAL, internally pronouncing it “soul”, which worked well because the instructor had informed him that this blade would need to become a part of him if he was going to use it properly. 

He held the sword in two hands and allowed his gaze to drift up the beautifully layered, red rocks of Gerudo Valley toward the blue sky overhead. There were no clouds and the sun shone mercilessly down on all of them and their dry abode. The Gerudo had engineered aqueducts and fountains to provide places for them to cool their bodies and their horses, but the desert and its dry, grit-blasting wind was unforgiving and eternal. 

It was hardly a wonder, therefore, that the warriors who occupied this place were of such an elite caste. Every single Gerudo knew how to wield a blade, a spear, a bow, and was a master equestrian. Their way of life demanded it. Mistakes in the desert meant death. Hyrulean peoples had no idea how simple and lush their lives were compared to this place.

Yet Link had never felt more at home. Even with the Kokiri, there had been a sense of otherness, confirmed on his seventh birthday, when he had finally received a fairy, only to find out mere days later, after destroying the curse within the Great Deku Tree, that he was not a Kokiri at all. Everywhere he had ever set food, he had been an outcast, different from everyone in the crowd, a spectacle. 

Here, he was different in form only, but not function. Link was a warrior. The Gerudo were also warriors. They could exchange much by way of single combat and even war games. This was their fellowship, the desert, their altar, with the Colossus looking over them all in silent approval. 

“Strength,” one of the Gerudo once told him, “is not in your arms, or your legs.” She had gestured at each part of him as she spoke. “It is not in your body, but your heart.” She had made a fist and thumped her own chest for emphasis. “Strength comes from here and gives you the will to lift your blade for your friends, your family, your home… for a heavy sack of rupees.” This last had been accompanied by a deep chuckle. 

The mercenary life suited the Gerudo and Link thought it would have suited him, except that he was a liability if he left the fortress. Staying cooped up here was made easier by the learning of new weapons and techniques, by completing the Trials over and over, by racing Epona up and down the archery field, scoring as many bullseyes as possible. The Gerudo themselves did their best to assist him, but there was only so much for such an accomplished warrior to do. 

He was getting bored, going stir-crazy. From childhood, the Hylian had been built for adventure. He had thought this would be his greatest. In a way, of course, it was. He was seeing an ancient culture up close, learning their ways and means, their cuisine and customs, and in a way few (if any) had done in an age. Link was hardly ungrateful. They had shown him more respect than just about anyone in Hyrule, Zelda included. 

“Link!” One of the Gerudo’s voice cut through the laughter, which had only now begun to taper off. “Lunch is on! Come with us!”

As if it understood her, Link’s stomach snarled voraciously and he patted it as if to soothe some beast. The one who had called to him laughed and gestured him over. The others were pulling themselves up out of the dirt from a wrestling match that had begun. They were brushing off and patting one another amiably on the back, dust flying as they did so. The sight of their camaraderie brightened his mood significantly. It was for his safety, he knew, and for a greater cause that he stayed here, isolated and hidden from the eyes of Hyrule Castle. 

As they made their way down the hill, Link considered this and resolved to stick it out as long as necessary. What other option had he, after all? He had always been a pack mule to the greater good. Why change his stripes. This time, at least, the goal seemed a little less nebulous and there might actually have been an end in sight, if what he had been told was true. 

Nearing the entrance to the communal hall where all meals took place, the scent of delicious, spiced meats and rice floated out to the boisterous group and only enticed them to more antics. The guards who had been on duty looked on in envy as the girls who had gone up to watch Link practice moved by. More than once, they were forced to bar entrance to one of the Gerudo who was a little dirtier than acceptable at the table. They would gesture sharply toward the bath house and the girl would slump off, muttering to herself about starving in the meantime. Her retreat was usually greeted with more jeering, catcalls, and of course, the eyerolls of the guards. 

It was a joyous, musical, rhythmic society in which Link found himself. There was always some kind of drum or stringed instrument being played. Today, someone had settled herself atop the fortress itself and was plucking something jaunty out on an instrument Link did not recognize. Maybe he would learn how to play whatever that was once his instructor with the SOAL cleared him.

He did not think that would take long. Among Link’s many talents was that of weapon mastery. He hardly had to see a weapon to understand its use and, with a little proper instruction, he was deadly. Link had the potential to be a one-man army, but for the former part of that title: he was just one man. He wanted desperately to prove himself worthy to stand alongside the Gerudo in a true battle, but knew that the only opponent they would have to meet them on the field of combat was the Hylian army and he dreaded fighting them, his people.

As much as the Gerudo had become his kin, he was still attached to his heritage and the strange, pseudo mystery of it. He was Hylian and yet not, a denizen of the green fields and lush forests of Hyrule, and yet something altogether else. It was difficult for him to encompass in his mind, but his heart knew the truth. 

And his heart said stay put.

He passed the threshold of the red stone hall, glancing upward to appreciate the multi-colored feathers which had been refreshed to properly adorn the beast skull which hung there. He was appreciative of the Gerudo decorating sensibilities. LIke everything else about them, each piece of adornment was aesthetic and functional. It was ancient Gerudo tradition to hang beast skulls above all entrances, to ward off evil spirits. The desert was vast and held plenty of those and Link had yet to see one within the fortress walls, which had convinced him of the validity of this particular belief. 

Within, more than fifty Gerudo warriors sat around the tables, eating, conversing, arguing, eating some more, and generally raising a cacophony. This was every meal in the communal hall, boisterous and lively. In one corner, true to form, three women sat around a circle of drums and beat out a tantalizing rhythm. A few others danced in line, waiting for their food. “Music aids digestion,” a Gerudo had told him on the first day he had spent with them. He was soon lost in the crowd, content to drive amongst the noise and joyous conversation and food. These are my people, he thought as he finally settled at a table to eat. 

[booksandchainmail]

nanoha vivid liveblog: episode 10

and the tournament goes on, with miura and vivio now definitely going to fight. We’ll probably also see Rio vs. Harry at some point, and some combinations of Victoria, Sieglinde, Lutecia, Chantez, Einhart, and Corona

Corona centric episode? Maybe she’ll be fighting einhart (or losing to someone einhart will have to fight)

Oh wow, we’re already pretty far into the tournament

Also, I’ve never seen any bracket design before that doesn’t show the defeated’s names

It’s tricky to balance enjoying fighting and wanting to win with wanting your friends to succeed. It’s one thing to have friendly matches, but losing here does have consequences, if only emotionally.

Oooh. Yeah that’ll be even rougher

I guess we’re saving the other contestants for past the qualifiers? Makes sense so we don’t have to introduce even more characters.

Also the two who lost (Mica and Els) were the two not introduced with everyone else in that montage in episode 7

Nanoha you made literally all of your friends by fighting them

Oh shit OP change 

(this probably happened earlier, I just don’t always pay the most attention during this section)

The closing shot is for the mentors, and now we’re out of the vacation arc and into the tournament that’s shifted to the numbers

Looks like I was wrong about saving all the other introduced characters for past the qualifiers. I’m guessing victoria will win this, based on experience and her having more connections to other fighters

Also I think there are only six groups?Eight groups would work better for tournament structure, but I don’t think we have enough people for that. So six people advancing, and two of those competitions are vivio vs. miura and einhart vs. corona, now victoria vs. chantez and presumably harry vs. rio, which leaves sieglinde and lutecia as the only other introduced characters in this tournament? Though sieglinde might be seeded further up.  

i do like chantez’s generally cockiness

Who the fuck let sein be one of her attendants. Though I can see that they get along

also, going by the original purpose of seconds, I’m picturing a version of the tournament where the coaches fight if the contestants are knocked out

This name is pretentious but not that bad, and it has a historical basis, so i’ll let it slide

~tempting faaaate~

I really like polearms, and this one has a pretty cool design. Looks like it mostly should be used axe-style, not much room for hooking. 

not really, I’m sorry

this is very true

I was not expecting such a realistic analysis instead of just vague assurances. Do you have a plan to make it not fighting like usual?

Huh, we’re skipping the first two rounds

All of the fights we’ve seen before have been over in one round, but it makes sense they won’t all be that quick, especially since both sides are using weapons. This way we get to jump ahead to when they pull out their best techniques.

I can’t tell if this episode is jumping around in time a lot, or if it’s partially a factor of the subtitles using round to refer to both bouts within a match and stages of matches within a group

huh, that’s more careful and strategic than i’d have thought

is she musically themed? or just has that aesthetic

oooooooh

nice! also brutal

and victoria just catches the swords. I’d say this is product of having that armor, but I think everyone in this tournament can do that

i’m a fan of this speed-based bait and switch fighting style. It really fits chantez as a character

OH

Dual swords indeed

No wonder she fought carefully and won only slimly in previous matches, that’s the kind of technique where surprise gives you a huge bonus

is victoria just letting the clock run down to be dramatic

oh wow that really did basically no damage

but she might only need to hit you once, and you can’t count on her never getting lucky 

this is unfortunately blurred, but the polearm fight scene is great

awww, baby delinquent chantez

and yeah, chantez is definitely going to lose, because her arc should be realizing that sister schach cares for her and is proud of her even if she doesn’t win

and there’s the thunder part of “thunder emperor”

Did her polearm transform into a sword?

oh that’s cool, she can pull off the base of her polearm to use as a lightning short sword. That’s a neat way around the range problem.

damn, that’s really impressive. the combination of clones and disguise abilities is formidable, and setting it up in advance like that was a good plan. no wonder victoria couldn’t figure out which clone was the real one

Oops

well fuck. she’s just not taking damage at all

i like how the clones are freaked out in unison, while chantez is still being cheerful

dramatic, but i’ll allow it

is this naruto

how many different attacks does she have?! the dahlgren family has really kept their techniques going.

the electric blue hair is a good touch. i don’t think ive ever seen that particular variant on color changing hair before

Victoria is entirely out of fucks to give

Chantez gives the impression of being a ditz (and I think she plays it up a bit), but she fights smart in a way most of the others don’t. Holding back in earlier matches, setting up a trap long before revealing her clones, using a move called “maximum clones” that doesn’t actually use all of them... she’s good at manipulating expectations

awwww

sein! but fair point i guess

oh gods. she’s tsundere about being a good student

Looks like corona has been working on her general stamina and hand-to-hand. It’s a good idea to make sure einhart can’t take her out instantly if she slips past the golem

Has she been studying with rio?

What the fuck

maybe dont train without telling your coach?

yeah thats what happens! you might be able to design a new technique, but you don’t have the experience or perspective to actually evaluate it

Yeah, but a technique that endangers yourself is not worth using in a competition

This was a whole thing in StrikerS too, and there the stakes were a lot more real

is corona the teana of vivid?

aww

i guess this is a reasonable compromise. she’s gonna go ahead with the new technique anyways, so best to figure out how to minimize its use

oh i want to see einhart vs. sieglinde

corona must expect this though, its a very obvious weakness, and she presumably has a counter

WHAT THE FUCK

GODS

this is actually a great way around the time issue without having to tack on a whole new style

just look at the scale of that. this is going to be an interesting fight

awwwwwww

[viciousalicious-blog]

((Just a Paragon fanfic. RIP Paragon. Here’s to hoping someone can bring it back! Art done by @sai_drawing. Not done for this story just needed something to headline))

Personal Log

Date 40241.34. I’ve reached the surface of Aozuno in the Oren system. Gravity is reading at .332g. Day cycles last 10.37 hours. The years are 504 days. Three moons give a close orbit which has thankfully made the nights much easier to navigate. Temperatures are ranging from 277.594K to a minimum of 247.039. Compared to Modas, this is paradise. Nothing a cup of hot chocolate won’t fix. I’m going to begin cataloguing the local flora for the next few days before moving onto any sizeable organisms. From what I can see, the flora here consists almost exclusively of trees and bushes. I haven’t seen any flowers, or grass. Although there is some bioluminescent fungi growing on the trees. I’m surprised anything grows out of the snow here, I haven’t seen a single patch of dirt since I’ve landed here. On another note, I did find an interesting tree that looks like the hispid olive tree back on Galigas Prime. I haven’t made a complete analysis yet, but there’s a possibility of a match. If so… well that’s another mystery to solve. How did a species get half way across the galaxy? Who knows? It’s all very exciting. I’m going to go and set up my survey gear for the research competition. I think I’m doing pretty well for being behind schedule. I haven’t detected any other ships yet.

End Log

Four Days Later...

As the three bright moons lit up the night on Aozuno, Dekker was aboard her sleek yet functional starship and working diligently in her laboratory. She was surrounded by white walls, glossy metal floors and a host of light blue lights and screen panels that kept the room well lit. She was still dressed in her arctic expedition uniform after having recently come from outside. Despite that her suit was still lightly powdered in snow with small sheets of ice cracking and falling from her shoulders, it didn’t slow her down in her work. She held up a small cubicle glass container to the light as she observed the small fungus sample she had taken earlier. With a proud grin she placed the container down alongside several other similar containers, each with its own unique sample.

“Hey, ARIN.” Dekker said, seemingly to herself.

There was a very gentle chime over the ship's intercom before a very human and articulate male voice answered. “Yes ma’am? What can I help you with?”

Dekker began typing into a holographic display, the blue light of the screen brightly flashing across her face. “I need youuu… to….” Dekker trailed off as she continued to type a few more entries.

“Ma’am?” ARIN called out.

“One second…” Dekker’s once focused face turned almost blank as her fingers continued typing. With a quick sniffle, Dekker’s focus returned. “Right.” She stepped back, putting her hands on her hips. “Check the log I just made. I need you to run a second analysis on the samples I brought in and then send it back to the institute.”

Dekker could almost feel ARIN’s digital nod in the silence before he asked, “Is that all, ma’am?”

“Yep!” Dekker smiled. “Hey, what’s the status on the ship we detected earlier?”

There was a slight pause as ARIN processed the information. “Starclass: Corvette. Manufacturer Sentinel Industries. Maximum crew, 10. ID#VHC0079112-LM393. Registered name, Horseman.”

Dekker’s eye twitched ever so slightly at the ship’s name. “Alex.” She muttered. “Where is it now?”

“The ship has landed only two kilometers away, ma’am. Shall I initialize the self-defense system?”

Dekker stifled a laugh. “Oh, that won’t be necessary. Captain Boffrand isn’t a threat to anyone but himself.” Dekker headed to the ship’s cargo bay where a ramp exiting the ship automatically lowered for her to the outside. “I’m going to finish setting up a few things, ARIN. Notify me if anything changes, okay?”

“Will do, ma’am. Stay safe.” ARIN replied as Dekker exited the ship and stepped onto the crunchy snow. The sharp cold braced against her face as the lift to her ship closed behind her. It was only a minute before Dekker’s breathing became laboured. The air on Aozuno was habitable, but very thin. It would take weeks before anyone could be used to breathing on the surface. Dekker was prepared, however. She reached to her belt where she took a small plastic mask and placed it atop her nose and mouth. A small tube ran from her mask to her back as she pulled the strap over her hair bun. She took one long breath, the oxygen hissing through the artificial respiratory system.

Just outside of her ship was a small camp with metal and white crates that matched the ships aesthetic, along with other odd devices that were unidentifiable except to those who knew what they were for. They blinked with lights, and some made a soft hum. Dekker effortlessly went by each one, checking their holographic displays for various readings that took careful note of. Surrounding her ship, encampment and the small clearing of untouched snow was a black forest with a host of tall, but cluttered trees and bushes. Thanks to the generous amount of snow and glowing fungi, it was easy to peer into the woods and see how far it went. That didn’t make it more welcoming in appearance though. Dekker had already looked anxious to go back into the forests for more exploration, despite the variety of strange sounds she heard along the way.

After a few hours of walking about outside in the frosty woods of Aozuno, Dekker returned back to her encampment with a few more samples she began placing in the crates she had outside. It wasn’t long before she heard some gunfire in the distance, and then distant chatter minutes later. Dekker let out another sigh in her mask as she braced for what was about to come. Out of the forest came three men, all appropriately, if not overly dressed in spacesuits. They seemed more suited for military action than expedition as they were more bulky, armored and had magnetic slots for an array of weapons. Thankfully these men only carried rifles. It was impossible to see their faces through the mirrored visor of the helmets, but as they approached Dekker the mirrored visors became clear.

“Interesting spot to land, Dekker.” Said one of the men who stood in front as their leader. His voice came through the suit’s speaker. “There were better clearings a few klicks from here.”

Dekker brushed her blue-dyed streak of hair behind her ear. “Alex.” She acknowledged. “Fancy meeting you here.” She said with almost forced sarcasm.

“Didn’t think we’d find your crazy ass on this side of the system. The hell brings you out on Aozuno?” Alex asked. Dekker ignored him as she continued fiddling with her equipment. “Wait… don’t tell me. You’re not here for the competition are you?” The men with Alex laughed.

“You know why I’m here, Alex.” Dekker said as she never looked away from her work. “Don’t act like you haven’t been tailing me this whole time. I had to go behind schedule just to lose you in the Droz system. Funny, I don’t remember you being this clingy.”

Alex crossed his arms. “We almost bit the dust in that asteroid field too.” He stepped forward, though he suddenly felt watched as he did. He looked towards Dekker’s ship and narrowed his eyes. “You know this is an event for real explorers. Not some whackjob scientist who thinks they can do the work of a whole team with prototype hardware.”

Dekker shrugged as she finished loading a crate. “I dunno. I think my reputation speaks for itself.”

Alex scoffed. “As a lunatic?”

Dekker stopped what she was doing, and looked up before turning to Alex. “Tell me… who was it that charted the entire Tholmor system before anyone even knew it existed? Or discovered a cure for Contuses Flores with the tree fungus from from Ioria?” As Dekker went on, Alex lowered his shoulders. “And who still holds the record for most entries in the Exotic Locales Codex?”

Alex frowned. “You.”

Dekker approached Alex, standing only a few feet from him. “And out of the two of us… who graduated with highest honors from the OU’s xenobiology division?”

Alex raised a finger. “Hey, if my experiment didn’t fail I---”

Dekker chuckled “Fail? You near blew up the entire west wing!”

“But the---”

Dekker interrupted. “And I warned you about it too.”

“You can’t do this by yourself.” Alex narrowed his eyes.

“You know, I said the same thing to you before you kicked me out of your group. Maybe if you listened to me, we’d be in the same expedition party.”

Alex sighed. “You go about this alone, you’re gonna get killed.”

Dekker smiled and stepped forward. She reached up to Alex’s shoulder and spoke softly. “It’s a big universe, Alex. If there’s one thing I learned…” She gently caressed his neckline before pulling her arm back and revealed a strange insect-like creature in her palm. “We’re never alone.” Alex immediately jumped back in fright as Dekker smiled at the creature in her hand. She then thrust her hand forward, tossing the bug into the air and watching it spread its wings and fly away. Dekker patted Alex on the butt and walked back to her encampment. “Good luck boys.”

Alex grumbled to himself and gestured for his men to continue onward. “You should stow your stuff away, Dekker. Someone might try to steal it.”

Dekker didn’t look up from her work, focused once more. “Maybe you’re right. Wouldn’t want someone to cheat on the competition.”

Alex furrowed his brow. “Wait...you think I would---”

Dekker looked at Alex, giving him a sharp stare. “Wouldn’t be the first time you cheated, Alex.��� Dekker’s words cut deep enough that Alex couldn’t reply and only looked at the young woman with a sincere regret before he activated the mirrored visor and continued back into the forest. Dekker continued doing her work, waiting for Alex to leave the vicinity before shutting her eyes and halting her progress. She tried briefly to return to her work before she stopped what she was doing and headed back inside.

“ARIN. Hot chocolate please.” She said as the cargo ramp lowered for her.

~

An hour later, Dekker was out of her suit and dressed in just a pair of cloth shorts and an oversized crop-top. She was huddled with a blanket surrounding her body and a large cup of hot chocolate between her legs as she sat on a couch in the dark. She was watching a holovid on an enlarged displayed. The holovid, for the most part, seemed poorly made. The set pieces were lacking, the actors were sub-par, and the script was less than cohesive. Still, Dekker watched with a genuine pleasure.

“Oh this is my favorite part, ARIN.” Dekker said, almost leaning in.

“I know, ma’am.” ARIN replied. “You’ve seen Gamma Woman 3: The Final Showdown, seven times already.” Dekker continued to smile as the action sequence played out on the screen. As the scene ended, she laid back with a sigh. “Ma’am.”

“Yeah ARIN?” Dekker replied, her eyes glued to the screen.

“Why do you continue to watch the same holovids repeatedly?” ARIN asked. “I thought the purpose of a holovid was to entertain you with unseen characters and plot. If you already know how the holovid is played out… how do you find any more enjoyment in them?”

Dekker let ARIN’s question sink in as she lowered the volume of the movie. “It’s not so much the holovid, ARIN. It’s the people who made them. I know there are better holovids out there, with enormous budgets. But those are just pumped out by big-name studios, and popular actors I’ve seen time and time again… and all of it almost seems… artificial. No offense.”

“None taken.”

“When I see these holovids, I see people who don’t have much to their name. They don’t have a lot of credits, or a big reputation to star in bigger films. But that never stopped them. They went on to make the holovids they wanted to. Even if they aren’t good at it… they like doing it. They don’t let anyone stop them from following their dreams, even when everyone else tells them they won’t make it.”

ARIN paused before replying. “I understand, ma’am. Humans are… interesting creatures.”

“We didn’t get this far by being boring.” Dekker smiled. “Let’s see how our friends are doing, yeah?” Dekker waved her hand at the screen and swiped her hand to the left bringing up an entirely different display. Now it was a map of the area surrounding the ship. On the map was a small blinking red dot. It moved ever so slightly, but Dekker knew exactly where it was. “I see Alex still hasn’t found that tracker.” Dekker readjusted her position to get more comfortable. “ARIN, keep an eye on the tracker beacon and let me know if anything comes up.” Dekker said, swiping the screen back to the holovid.

“Yes ma’am.”

~

Deep in the forests of Aozuno, Alex and his men navigated the terrain, their rifles trained forward as Alex kept his eye on a holographic map display off his wristguard. It was fairly quiet with nothing but the whirring sounds of their suits and the crunchy of ice and snow beneath their boots. There was the occasional bird and rodent the scurried around but nothing more.

“Captain, how far are we going to go?” said one of the men. “There’s nothing out here.”

"Yeah.” said the other soldier. “This place is a dead end. I don’t know why you followed Dekker here.” He stopped and rested his gun on his shoulder as he turned to Alex. “Maybe she’s just trying to waste our time.”

“Dekker doesn’t waste time.” Alex said sternly. “If she’s here… she’s found something. And I want to know what.” He dismissed the map display and looked around. “I’m not going to lose to her again.”

“She’s pulling your chain, man.” whined the soldier. “I’ve checked the radar on all scopes and I’m telling you, there’s nothing here.”

Alex huffed. “Listen, I didn’t trail Dekker across three systems just to lose to her again. If Dekker’s here, we’re close. If I did---” Suddenly there was a crack in the forest close by. It was loud enough to startle the group of men. “What was that?” His men shrugged. He gestured for one of them to move forward. “Check it out.” The man nodded and walked forward, his rifle aimed forward. Only a few moments passed before the ground violently rumbled. There was an explosion of snow as the floor erupted. Tunneling from the ground came a large four-legged beast. It nearly chomped on the soldier walking forward before it landed on the ground. It had long claws, a large snapping maw like a turtle and a thick plate-like armor across its head, back, and limbs. It gave one loud roar before charging at the soldiers.

~

Back on Dekker’s ship, the young explorer was napping peacefully as the holovid played on loop in front of her. The screen suddenly switched to the map of the area as it flashed red.

ARIN spoke up with a slightly higher volume than usual. “Ma’am, sensors read gunfire matching Captain Boffrand’s position.”

Dekker opened her eyes slowly, blinded by the screen in front of her. “Alex finally walked into its den, huh?” She groggily got off her chair and walked over to her suit. After disrobing into just her undergarments, she slipped on the suit. “This is what we’ve been waiting for. ARIN, be ready.”

“I will.” ARIN replied. “Be careful ma’am.”

“It’ll be a piece of cake. Just like on Daedalus.” Dekker smiled, slipping her arms through her suit. The uniform automatically sealed itself when pieces were in their proper place.

“The creature on Daedalus almost ate your brain.”

Dekker walked over to an equipment rack where she pulled a helmet from the wall and placed it over her head. The helmet matched the suit entirely, looking almost seamless with the rest of the uniform. Her face was hidden behind a tinted visor and several camera and lighting nodes. “Don’t worry.” She said, knocking on the helmet. “Lesson learned.” Dekker ran through the cargo bay, grabbing her tech-staff along the way before heading outside. “Be ready, ARIN.” After pressing a few buttons on her tech-staff Dekker vanished in a flash of light.

~

The armored creature had Alex and his men cornered. They soon realized that gunfire did nothing to the beast except make it angry. It dug its feet into the ground, preparing to charge the men into a rock wall. But just as it was paces away the beast was knocked to the ground by a small explosion of light.

Dekker dropped down in front of the men, helping one of the soldiers up. “Get out of here Alex!” “Go back to my ship.” The men didn’t hesitate to distance themselves as far away from the creature as possible. As the beast came out of its stupor, it turned its glaring eyes to Dekker who stood with her hands firmly grasped onto her staff. “Hey there big guy. Boy, you’re a lot bigger than the readings told me. Are you getting this ARIN?”

A voice came over her suits speaker. “Every second ma’am.”

The creature roared and charged at Dekker. In a last second dodge, she activated her rocket boots, and leapt above the beast leaving it to collide with the wall. She dropped down onto the creature's back and ran along its plating before sprinting into the forest. The terrain was tricky to navigate. There was a series of bumps and ledges that Dekker had to jump onto, thankfully her boots made much of that easy. But for the beast trailing her, it had less trouble. Its large form allowed it to traverse its native terrain much easier.

The trees that Dekker had to weave through were immediately destroyed as the beast simply ran through them, reducing them to splinters. Finally Dekker came up to a small cliff. As she looked down, the display on her helmet told her that the drop was at least 30+ meters. The creature wasn’t going to wait. Dekker took a step back and leapt off the cliff. Moments before she hit the ground she activating a button on her staff, spawning a dome shaped energy field. As she passed through it, her fall was significantly slowed allowing her to regain her orientation before landing on the ground.

The creature above merely jumped from the cliff, using its large claws to slow its descent before leaping to the floor with little consequence. Dekker continued to run away, weaving through the trees before heading back to her ship. There stood Alex and his men, still catching their breath only to watch Dekker slide down a hill and sprinting back toward them with the monster in tow. They knew their guns were useless and instead decided to run again, and hide behind Dekker’s ship. Just as she reached the campsite, Dekker tripped and fell onto the ground. She quickly turned onto her back and scurried backwards on her hands.

“Now, ARIN!” Dekker shouted. The beast leapt into the air, ready to pounce on Dekker. Suddenly a transparent energy field erected in the air between Dekker and the beast knocking it back. As it came to it looked around and realized that it was caged in a prison. It tried its best to break the walls but each time it did it was simply knocked back into the center harmlessly. Dekker stood up and brushed the snow from her pants. With a short sigh and put her hands on her hips and smiled. “Perfect.”

Alex stood forward from cover and looked at the cage the beast was in. “This was… this was all a trap.”

“Yep.” Dekker said, fascinated by the beast.

“And we were the bait.” Alex added.

“More or less.”

“How the hell did you know where we were?” Alex turned to Dekker.

Dekker smirked and walked over to Alex before removing a small inconspicuous device from his rear end. “You always did have a nice butt, Alex.”

“You used us.”

“To be fair, I didn’t need you.” Dekker placed the tracking device away. “You just made it easier. I knew where that thing was, luring it out was something else entirely. I figured since you don’t know how to be careful…”

“We could’ve died!” Alex scowled.

Dekker casually shrugged. “Well, you left me to die on Pheta 3… I’d say we’re even.” Alex couldn’t retort. Dekker was right once more. “So… how does it feel to lose to me again?” Dekker crossed her arms.

Alex let out a sigh and activated the mirrored visor before walking away. “Come on men…back to the Horseman.”

“We’re just leaving?” One of the men complained.

“If it wasn’t for Dekker we’d be dead.” Alex noted as he kept walking. His men followed after him. Dekker continued to watch him leave. “You’re going to slip up one of these days, Dekker. Just you wait…” Once the men were gone Dekker approached the caged beast which seemed to have settled for a seething anger rather than a boisterous one. It growled as Dekker put her hand on the energy field. It glared at her, hoping for just one second the field would go down and it would snap its jaws on Dekker in an instant.

“I think I’ll call you Henry. How’s that sound?” Dekker said. The creature snarled and turned away from Dekker before sitting in the center of the cage. “ARIN, let’s get this guy processed so we can head back to Omeda.”

“Right away, ma’am.” ARIN confirmed.

Dekker removed her helmet, brushing her fingers through her hair before looking up at the stars above. “So many more mysteries to see.”