#he needs a different set of eye-examination tools for her eyes and he has to be aware of the signs and symptoms of certain toxins with her

[felassan]

Thoughts on the DA:TV Companion Concept Art:

General

I love that we saw these and I think the art is beautiful!! it's so cool seeing different versions of a character, different ideas for a character, and how things translated from concept arts into the character models in the game. I can't waaait to look through the rest of The Art of Dragon Age: The Veilguard, with a fine-toothed comb!!

each character has iconic color palettes and iconic shapes and stuff :)

I feel like there is a lot to examine in these pictures, even with the spoilery text redacted!! 🔍🔍

I'm so extremely curious about what the redacted text says. 👁️

It looks like the geometric patterns drawn behind the characters are slightly different each time?

In the ones where multiple different outfits are shown for the character, do you suppose that these are only discarded concept ideas, or are some similar to some of the alternate outfits for the companions that we can find or upgrade for them in the game?

in some of the pages, there appears to be additional parts of the page blanked out/redacted rather than just the paragraph of text. I wonder if there are small text captions or even additional small drawings in those spaces that also needed to be redacted for spoiler reasons 👁️

In some of the sections below I just described what part of the art I was referring to, in others I popped in images because I was finding it hard to describe what I meant ^^

Also, the associated tweet mentions the BioWare Gear Store-exclusive variant of the artbook. The link in it just takes you to the general Gear Store website landing page at the moment. At the moment, the BioWare Gear Store variant of the artbook is out of stock (it went out of stock really quickly after release). However, CM Violet mentioned in the Discord that "We are planning on another printing [of the Gear Store variant of the art book], but no date yet! I'm sure we'll announce it when we have more news!" [source: the official BioWare Discord]

Bellara

Bellara's page is the only one I think with no name. did her name have to be redacted too bc of a spoilery reason?

I LOVE Bellara's pages. she's just so 🥺 (clenching my fist). some aspects of the design of Bellara's clothes remind me of butterflies or butterfly wings.

Left: the angle of this one reminds me of her party icon art. Center: this one shows a different design concept for her vallaslin. in this one she also has different earrings. in the full version of this drawing, it looks like she is holding some kind of tool in her hand (makes sense considering her Tinker ability), while in her other hand it's a piece of cloth, reminding me of the way mechanics are sometimes drawn holding rags during their work. her posture in the full version of this drawing is like 'You can fit sooo many triangles inside this bad boy [the giant elf head artifact/sculpture]'. hhh. Right: can anyone make out what the text above her bag says? ^^ btw, this bag design is so cute. edit: thankyou to @squidaped-oyt who mentioned in the replies of this post that this looks like it says "Foldable map"! more on that here.

HELLO??, this ancient elven sculpture/artifact thing is extremely 👀. the scale of it compared to Bellara is massive. there are beams of light coming from its eyes and the triangle set in its forehead. the triangular parts are a now-familiar aspect of ancient elven magic-tech and artifacts. the nose bridge reminds me of the design of elven nose bridges circa Dragon Age II - only he has a pointed part on his in addition. the bald head we're all familiar with from ancient elven statues, in-world murals/wall paintings etc. is it just me, or are the teeth also pointy? I wonder what this thing is.. was it just decorative (a head of a giant statue)? (this kind of thing in this Veil Jumper/Arlathan Forest concept art comes to mind). was it an art piece representative of a particular Evanuris or one of their chosen? or did it have some kind of actual function - maybe it was part of a giant protective automaton kinda thing? what this head really reminds me of is Codex Entry: Vir Dirthara: Signs of Victory -

The pages of this book—memory?—describe a monument made in a single afternoon by a thousand-thousand toiling servants swarming over a lump of fallen stone as large as a collapsed mountain. By the end of the day, the stern figure of Elgar'nan stares down into a valley, carved out from the foothills of the rock. The slaves have disappeared. Light radiates from the eidolon's narrowed eyes and its open, snarling mouth. "Hail Elgar'nan, first among the gods! Mark his victory eternal!"

Could this be [part of] one of those sorts of monuments/eidolons? It sure looks like it's snarling through its open mouth. And it has narrowed eyes and light is radiating from them.

The other things it reminds me of are: 1. the ancient elven sentinels (the magic-bot kind, not the Abelas and crew in Temple of Mythal kind), two. like maybe it's a giant one of these. 2. these big ancient elven hands and the Dead Hand landmark (see Trivia section) in DA:I, which is found in the Dales and contains an elven shrine and is not far from Ghilan'nain’s Grove.

Horace Medford wrote of that landmark,

"The great stone hand was something of a mystery. One assumes it is a piece broken off from a larger whole. If so, judging by the size of that one hand, I imagine the entire sculpture to be... well, large enough to require the use of obscenities to describe it. Thus I have only one question: where is the rest of the statue? It is difficult to imagine how something so large could go missing."

like maybe the head from Bellara's concept is the giant head to a similar kind of pair of giant hands (of either type).

(^ post which discusses these both here)

Left: the way this bracelet thing is worn gives it the impression of a watch, which is cool and fits her machinist/inventor kinda vibe/aesthetic :) Center: the cloth, a bit dirty from active use (what a thoughtful touch), tucked into her belt :) Right: I love the eyepiece/monocle look!! It's giving Artificer, it's giving gadgets. does anyone else think Bellara and Dagna would get on super well? 💜

These are all super interesting and I love that they were thinking about the different parts of Bellara's kit and belongings like this. in the top row, it looks like the book on the left is the closed version of the book on the right. Bellara's book full of research notes :D what I wouldn't give to browse through it!! I love how she's filled it with different bookmarks, it gives you an insight into her mind and the way it works. on the front is one of those ancient elven golden faces (like on Solas' armor's knees in Trespasser, on the Sentinels in the Temple of Mythal, on the ancient elven Deluxe edition of DA:TV armors, etc). inside, it looks like she has pressed a flower, which is so lovely. on the right-hand page, I'm really curious about the drawings there. what is it of? a map, a diagram? it reminds me a bit of the map of Arlathan Forest in the Veil Jumper issue of Dragon Age: The Missing (and it would make sense for her to have a map, Arlathan Forest is changeable lately). and if you squint, maybe that's an 'X marks the spot'? also extremely curious is the drawing on the left-hand side of the page:

Who is this depicting? the figure's headshape/headpiece/mask reminds me a lot of the Evanuris headshapes. and the general vibe of the drawing reminds me of the ancient elven Evanuris mosaics (example). Sylaise-y? but maybe it's not an Evanuris and it's more like a figure from Bellara's past? the way the flower is pressed on this page makes it look tender, like memory. or if it was an Evanuris, it makes it look like an offering or token. perhaps Bellara's vallaslin correspond to Sylaise or whichever member it is. there was a time before the gods came back the way they did in DA:TV.

It's also really cool to get a look at the fold-out material thing. do you think she usually carries this rolled up at her belt or in her bag? it looks like somewhere where she stores various kinds of ancient elven triangle fragments, or maybe it's even some kind of strange map. A map of a bunch of different reality-fragmented Veil Bubbles or something would look really strange no doubt, not like a normal map.. edit: more on that here.

Davrin

It's neat to see different hairstyle versions of Davrin! the shape of the blue sword reminds me just a lil of Starfang, which is really nice. and we saw Davrin with a griffon-wing shield like there is in these concepts in the character reveal trailer.

Comparisons of the various vallaslin designs he has in his concept arts to the final one in the game. (in some of the concepts, his vallaslin look a bit bluer, which reminds me of his tarot-style art from the party selection screen). though, in the right-most version, it looks more kind of like a circlet, a Samara Mass Effect-type situation instead :)

This on his heel is totally a spur. makes sense, for a Warden that may one day be a griffon-rider like the Grey Wardens of old :') (at least in the sense of visual language, like "spur - riding - horse - griffon").

We see Davrin equipped with an additional dagger/shortsword like this in the warrior gameplay video, albeit not this specific one, if you go by the handles.

He maybe has some stubble here. ^^

In this version of Davrin, it looks like he has a staff. (though, he still has a sword here too). Is it a polearm kinda deal, or was there a time during development when Davrin was a mage? perhaps the elf in this concept art is a version of Davrin? that elf is wielding a staff to fight, and there are some similar aspects in the outfit designs, like the considerable collar.

interestingly, his staff here reminded me of the staff held by the elven figure on the front of the DA Vinyl art. 🤔

^ Looking at that staff-Davrin concept more generally, it's interesting that this version has more overtly Grey Wardenny-parts to his armor compared to his final look, like the griffon symbol on the chestplate and shoulder.

This Davrin holds out his arm, like a falconer. in Dalish culture, the hawk is a sacred animal of the Huntress Andruil.

And this Davrin straight up is a falconer. how cool!! due to image resolution I'm not sure if the darker parts on the raptor are parts of its plumage or accoutrements, but in falconry, the birds sometimes do wear these types of accoutrements. Falconer Davrin Concept reminds me of that one DA:I Dorian concept art where Dorian had a monkey haha. :D the attention to detail in Falconer Davrin is neat too, you can see that on the hawk-perch arm he has a thick extra cover on his arm, due to the sharpness of raptor talons and grip. I really love Falconer Davrin's griffon shoulderplate, and when looking at the more geometric diamond design of his vallaslin here, what struck me was its resemblance to the diamond geometric pattern behind him.

Harding

Harding is the only one on the concept art among the named characters there who is listed as her surname rather than her given name haha. she's just Harding just like Hawke is Hawke, that's just the way it is.

The flower and leaf pattern in the top left is cute, I wonder if it was inspiration for the flower and leaf stitching Harding has on the collar of her casual clothes in the game. In the concept art it looks like the kind of design that you might have on the leatherwork on the front cover of a beautiful leatherbound journal or something. :) In the central picture she's holding and appreciating a blue flower, which is so cute ♡ and which ties to what was said about her loving plants, raising plants, and nature. she has what looks like the Inquisition hairy eyeball symbol on her belt pouch as well as on her knee pads. (;;) the version of her to the left of that shows her with her hair down, in a more pony-tail like sort of style. on that version of her, you can see flower and leaf floral patterns curling up the bottom of her cape. (very pretty).

To the right of the central image, there's a big diagonal blank rectangle of content which has been removed, presumably due to spoiler reasons. Was this also text? It seems like a weird angle to have placed text at. Maybe it's a drawing of an object of some kind being hidden? A different version of her bow perhaps? (this is the case in a few of the companion concept arts btw.)

The tailored coat and pinstripe pants version of her is so cool. :D look at the tails on the back of her coat in that image. dapper. Harding formal wear? :D

of course, the two most !! images from Harding's one are these ones. copying over my thoughts from that post,

Presumably this is to do with Harding’s new magical stoney earthy powers. (In the second image, along with the bow, it looks like half her face, part of her neck and her arm itself is also stone/crystal). The glass-like shiny parts reminds me of quartz or something. :)

I do wonder if (if they are still things in the game) perhaps those two images or the stoney parts of them could also potentially have done with being redacted for spoiler reasons? how I wish the Harding image was higher resolution so we could take a closer look at stone-Harding..! somewhere off in the distance, Varric "haha, you'd be Harding in Hightown" Tethras is like "haha, Harding, you're hard/hardening" hhhh. 💀

In the image with her hood up, the blue veins on the bow remind me of blue lyrium veins. I also wonder, is she holding the stone/crystal bow with her stone/crystal arm, or is the bow simply growing from the arm? does the hard surface of her body when it's like this repel or take less damage owing to its hardness? is this something she might be able to do in gameplay later on as her story (and powers) progress?

it stands to reason that if you can turn other people/things to stone, as she did to some ghouls in the release date reveal trailer, you might also be able to extend this power to yourself. presumably this ability is tied to the Titans, the dwarves as their children, the Stone, maybe a restored (in Harding's case) connection to that, the way dwarves used to be. it also reminds me of how golems are created using live dwarves. Caridin said "It allowed me to forge a man of steel or stone, as flexible and clever as any soldier." 👀

Btw, speaking of Harding's magical powers, I wonder if Harding dreams at night now..?

Lucanis

it looks like there's a spot on Lucanis' page other than the text at the top that is blanked out/redacted. I wonder what it contained.

part of the geometric designs behind him reminds me of his eyes motif.

some of the alternate outfits for him look really like, majestic. in the one with the manbun, he has big poufy shoulder pieces and huge sleeves.

I wonder if any concept art of clean-shaven Lucanis exists anywhere? ^^ I'm really curious about what he looks like clean-shaven, or without a beard as he was in The Wigmaker Job.

I'm losing my mind at all the different concept ideas for Lucanis' hair, especially the one with the curled forelock and LUCANIS MANBUN omg. but I like his feathery mullet that he has in the game the best. :D

The design and coloring of his sword is just so COOL. The oil-like iridescence, purple-black, is like corvid feathers.

What a lovely sketch, lovely pencilwork. ◕‿◕ his eyebrow is slightly raised and you can see here again that his nose is slightly 'crooked' (perhaps he's broken it in the past?). I love this sort of feature sm in every character that has it.

In this one his eyes are doing the glowing purple thing again. again he is not defeating the possessed/dead/abomination/-somethingelserelatedorsimilar-is-going-on with him allegations. this one has a hood in an Assassin's Creed sorta style and the general vibe is like a ninja. the shoulder pieces look feathery, and the cloak/coat looks like feathered wings or tailfeathers. this piece feels the most "The Demon of Vyrantium" in vibe hh 👁️ And are you guys seeing this?? Here it looks like has claws like Wolverine hh!! :D though he could simply also be holding multiple knives in between his fingers (of the sort you can see at his belt in another concept, I've put that one just below here to show them), or have a bladed gauntlet, etc.

This person coming at you in the night, no wonder the evil Venatori magisters are scared of him :)

Coffee, no doubt :) cool mug shape.

Bird design again on this leg-piece.

Left: a take on the now-iconic Antivan Crow bird-masks. really cool design. here it's giving Batman, it's giving masquerade ball. I really hope we see him wearing a Crow bird mask of this sort at some point during the game!! 🧎🕯️🧎 it's a big missed opportunity if not imo hh. Right: Lighthouse casual-wear, or something very close to it. his vibe in this art is also similar to his vibe in the Lighthouse group shot.

Veilguard symbol on his chest? some of the alternate outfits include a more Veilguardy purple to them, and this one reminds me of how the Veilguard symbol looks for Rook here for example.

Lastly, in this main one, his general shape is sooo triangular. :D and his face/expression here really captures this description of him from Tevinter Nights:

Lucanis stared ahead, focused and intense. He was the kind of man you couldn’t look away from—until he looked at you.

In this one I also get the sense of dark circles under his eyes, which is a trait that in fiction reminds me of coffee-drinkers. ^^

Emmrich

Both staffs in Emmrich's concept art are different to the one we see him with here, but the bigger one on the concept art is close to it.

In this concept it looks like Emmrich has a scar on his chin.

Left: without his jacket on, he looks so svelte. the gold parts on his boots/knees remind me of the gold headpieces fixed to walking dead in the Necropolis. they are also hexagonal in shape, which I've become convinced is part of Nevarra's visual design language (and therefore part of Nevarran architecture, fashion/culture etc. :D he has so many bracelets and rings. Center: he looks so happy here and in the one next to it! these versions of Emmrich seem to lean more to the purple side of his color palette. these ones have a sorta futuristic vibe. you can see some of the tools of his trade at his belt, and it's a different version of his staff. here the skull floats at the top of the staff and burns with green fire, rather than being fixed to the pole of the staff. Right: Emmrich with big hair! quiff-like, and it looks like a large part of it is white rather than gray.

in this alternate outfit he's wearing a work apron with tools of his trade on the front. he's holding a glass flask that is filled with green liquid and billowing green smoke. I wonder if Emmrich is skilled at alchemy? do you think he has a lab, or that his room in the Lighthouse might be filled with stuff like alembics?

Looking again at Emmrich's outfit in these arts - from the back, the back of his coat reminds me of depictions in art and tv/film of the blood eagle?? (if you are sensitive or squeamish to gore and things of that nature, please don't google that!). the lines on the back of his shoulders remind me of musculature. The repeating pieces down the center of the bottom part of his coat reminds me of a spine. and the back of his gold belt-piece from behind straight up looks like a pelvis. the skeleton and body imagery here is an amazing art direction/symbolism for him!! what a bigbrain idea. is that sort of detailing why the design of the front of his coat looks like someone's chest has been opened on an operating table?

also, the long coat reminds me of labcoats. :)

I wonder if the bracelets and things are a Nevarran cultural thing/common fashion in Nevarra, or more of just an Emmrich thing? ^^

lastly his expression in the one on the right is so gentle and kind.

Neve

There are two spots on Neve's page other than the text at the top that are blanked out/redacted. I wonder what they contained.

I love that they tried out differing concept/designs for the look of Neve's leg, and what looks like a stand for it as well. they're all really neat and you can see serpentine aspects in all of them. a person could also have more than one.

this image contains another great reference for Neve's wand-cane thing. here the orb in the middle looks like a big pearl, like from inside a mollusk. the ring around it is definitely evoking the body of a snake coiling.

The concept art contains a blond version of Neve. because of her ice powers, it reminds me a bit of Emma Frost (Marvel). look at that Neve's heeled boot, and the size of her hat!!

I prefer the Neve they decided to go with in the end. ♡♡ ^^

Taash

oh my goooood. breathing in and out rapidly into a paper bag. oh my godd. she looks sooo cool!! I'm posting the whole thing again here just bc omggg.

Most versions of Taash have the green crystal horn. her concept arts show versions with different skin colors. her eyes in some of them look green. I love all her different-version Lord of Fortune / Rivaini gold pieces. in the top-left hand version of her, her bigger shoulder-piece is really cool (the right-hand side one); it could at once be a piece of spiky dragon bone or a piece of a big spiky sea-shell (both ideas work perfectly for her character and background). I've said this before when talking about Taash's design, but I love the parrot-break design of one of her weapons. it's very piratey. in this page, we can see several different versions of the parrot-beak weapon. also, I love all her different facial expressions.

in the right-most Taash concept, the dragon tooth-like pointy bits on her gauntlets look like they're made out of gold, not tooth. her big piratey boots are so cool and they even have a gold coin on them! you can see the spike braided into the end of her ponytail, and in that drawing the dragonscale-looking parts of her iconic armor look even more scaley, owing to the way they graduate from a full covering of scales to a partial covering to not present (in a way that reminds of how on some fantasy arts of things like dragons, there can be softer/less protected areas of their hide with no or less scales, like towards their undersides):

The bottom-left most illustration looks like it might be her iconic armor, only seen from the back, which is good to have a reference of. the design of her sword scabbard is cool, it's like the segmented flat of a dragon or sea-serpent's tail. in that image it also looks like the eye of her parrot-weapon is matched by an eye on the scabbard. something about the designs of her sword and scabbard remind me of weapons like daos. from behind, it also looks like her gauntlets might have thicker armor on one-side, better protection for the upper side of her forearms. the fingers of her gauntlets also look taloned, in a way that reminds me of Fenris.

Okay now let's talk about the concept in the center at the top! this version has longer horns and more spikes in her ponytail, in fact the ponytail here looks like a dragon tail as a result. it reminds me of Flemeth's dragony hair from Dragon Age II onwards. this version also looks like she may have blue-ish facial tattoos, or it could be vitaar. it also looks like she may have a second, smaller set of horns. in this version, the red ropes are cyan-blue instead, and she not only has the spikes/teeth on her gauntlets, but also on her boots (knee 'pad' and the heel, like spurs). in this version, her swords are dragon wing-shaped, which is pretty metal. I can't tell if the triangular piece that hangs down in the center is from the front piece of her clothing or the back piece, but it gives the impression of a dragon tail.

Lastly, the concept in the center at the bottom: here her boots remind me a lot of Dragon Age II Isabela, who is of course, also a piratey type of character from Rivain. the giant axe here is cool, the shape of its blade also evokes the shape of a dragon wing and it looks like the handle might be made of bone. the way she's carrying the axe here reminds me a bit of how Iron Bull carries his weapon in this art piece. the teal and gold color scheme of this piece reminds me of the gold and blue/green of some Ancient Egyptian things, and round her neck it looks like she is wearing a torc.

[only-lonely-stars]

ERROR: Remove Incompatible Software

Oneshot – (FFN) (AO3)

Summary:

After the loss of Nya, everyone in the Monastery is grieving. While Pixal has found a constructive outlet, not everyone has done the same. Meanwhile, Zane makes a choice that he may come to regret. (Set between Seabound and Crystallized.)

Pixal sighed, setting down her tools for the first time in three hours. She'd been working tirelessly in the Monastery's garages, just as a Nindroid would. The enormous projects the Ninja requested wouldn't build themselves, and while she always grossly exaggerated the time necessary for construction, she usually worked on tight tolerances.

Even tireless Nindroids need a break.

After a moment, she stretched, listening to her joints grind from a lack of grease. All the lubricant in her joints had worn away while she worked over the past few days. She'd need to add more before her next working session in order to prevent rust and abrasion. Maybe Zane would help her reach the hard-to-access paneling– he always had before.

Zane…

He hadn't come down to the garage in weeks. It was silly of her to miss him so much, but it felt like he was gone. Zane knew that she spent nearly all day, every day, down in the garages building the equipment the Ninja needed. Usually he would join her when he was able, but not anymore. Now he refused to enter any space that bore signs of Nya's former presence. He had exiled himself to his own room, it seemed, and wouldn't budge for anyone.

Not even for her.

Pixal sighed again. There was nothing to be gained by missing him. She would simply have to go upstairs and find him if she wanted his company.

These days, going upstairs to the Monastery felt like entering a different world. No longer was Pixal safe in her garage, filled with tools and metal and things to tinker with. No longer did she have a gentle reminder of Nya everywhere she looked– she had to deal with the mess of six grieving men, along with all of the things they neglected. Every memory of Nya was hidden by a layer of neglect and tears. The picture frames hadn't been dusted in weeks.

Jay was long gone. Kai was planning on leaving…

It was only a moment of time until Pixal was left alone permanently. Was that her fear speaking for her?

Whatever it was, Pixal did not know. She stepped over an old pile of gaming equipment that hadn't been touched in weeks and made her way along the familiar path to Zane's bedroom door.

After a brief pause to collect herself, Pixal knocked on Zane's door.

No response came.

She knocked again, and this time she heard Zane's voice. "Come in, Pixal."

The flat tone of his voice struck her as being odd, and Pixal filed away the concern in her random access memory for later usage. She opened the door to see Zane standing in front of a mirror, his chest compartment open as he looked into it.

"Zane?" Pixal closed the door behind her. She folded her hands and came to stand next to him. "What are you doing?"

"I am examining my construction," Zane said quietly, eyes fixed on the mirror. He was staring at his internal components, eyes grazing over the wires and switches. "What is it you need, dear?"

"I was wondering where you were." Pixal frowned. "What are you looking for?"

"My emotion meter." Zane sighed, tapping a finger against the metallic piece in question. "Given that I no longer have a memory switch, this is the closest I can get to forgetting recent events."

Alarms began to sound in Pixal's interface, but she silenced them and rested a hand on Zane's arm. She gently removed his hand from his emotion meter, holding it in her own hand. "Is that relevant at the moment? What is wrong?"

Zane was quiet. "Pixal… are you grieving Nya as I am?"

She frowned again. "Of course I am. She was my friend too."

"Yes. She was." He hung his head. "How selfish of me to think I am the only one grieving."

"Zane, do not be so hard on yourself."

"Why not?" He looked at her now, pain written across his face. "I do not have the right to hurt so much over this!"

"What? Who told you that?" Pixal seized his hand. "Zane, that is not true. Nya was your sister too! You have every right to grieve. So many bad things have happened recently, Zane."

"Then I am even worse." Zane looked away, eyes closed tightly. "I cannot withstand this, Pixal. This grief too much to bear."

"Of course you can. Ninja never quit, Zane. You never give up."

"I have already given up, Pixal." He shook his head. "And I am sorry."

"Sorry for what? Have you done something wrong?"

"No. I am only about to do something wrong."

"Then stop!" She reached up to take his face and make him look at her, but he refused her touch. "Zane, what are you planning on doing?" She pleaded, touching his cheek. "Please, do not shut me out."

Zane took a long time to respond– fifteen seconds and thirty-seven milliseconds, as her interface unhelpfully displayed. "I want to turn off my emotion meter."

"What?!" Pixal exclaimed, finally being rewarded by Zane looking at her in alarm and shame. "Zane, you cannot do that!"

He sighed, looking incredibly tired… and more alarming still, afraid. "Pixal, I'm ready. I backed up every one of my files twice. I can't withstand this hurt."

"But you must process your emotions! You cannot ignore them or force yourself to forget!"

"It is not ignoring them if I do not feel them!" Zane snapped. "Pixal, I am suffering more than I can explain! I can't keep feeling this!"

"And do you not think I understand? Do you think I don't know how you feel?!" She glared at him. "Zane Julien, I was there when you died! I watched you sacrifice yourself and freeze the whole city! I was the only one who knew you survived for months! Do you think I do not know loss?!"

Zane shrank away. "Of course not! I am simply saying that this is the breaking point."

"Or you are being selfish, and fearful too." She prodded him in the chest. "Zane, you are a ninja and a nindroid. Neither are cowards."

He took her hand by the wrist and moved it away, stepping back. "You don't understand."

"Oh, I understand perfectly! You don't want to process these emotions. You want to stuff them away, like every other time." She crossed her arms. "I may love you, Zane, but I can't listen to this nonsense. Do you even hear yourself?"

"Do you even hear me?!" Zane accused.

"Of course I do, and I hear nonsense." She shook her head. "You're making a mistake."

"Maybe you think it is. After some time, when I am able to process my emotions, I will turn them back on." He reached for his emotion meter. "For now, I must abide by rational thinking."

Pixal turned her face away, too angry to watch him flip the switch. "Then this is the end of us, isn't it? All because of one small choice."

"I don't want to do it." His voice was small, scared. "I just want to stop hurting."

She closed her eyes tightly. "This won't help. All you'll do is hurt more later."

"I don't know what else to do."

"So you resort to something only we Nindroids can do, just to stop the pain?"

She didn't get a response for another seventeen seconds and ninety-eight milliseconds.

Zane spoke, his voice was flat and emotionless. "I am a Nindroid. It is logical to take advantage of my many dissimilarities to organic beings."

The emotionless tone of Zane's voice made Pixal close her eyes even more tightly. She fought back tears of sorrow and anger, but she could feel them building in her artificial eyes. "You turned off your emotion meter."

"I did."

She took a deep, mechanical breath and looked at him. "Then you cannot even love me, can you? You cannot feel."

Zane looked at her with a blank expression– eyes dark, brows straight, mouth only moving to speak. He had never looked more robotic. "My opinion of you has not changed."

"Your opinion. But you can't feel love." She closed her eyes, turning away again. "Do you understand what you have done?"

"I have made it so that I can no longer feel emotions," Zane noted robotically.

"No. Not that." She shook her head, looking at him through her tears. "You've ended our relationship. I won't stand by this. Until your emotion meter is back on, we are through."

Zane didn't react. "I see."

She shook her head, ready to burst into tears. "I can't even look at you."

"I am sorry to hear that."

"You're not sorry at all!"

"I am using common colloquial speech intended for expressing sympathy."

"I don't want your sympathy! I want you to understand me." Pixal turned around fully, making her way to the door and opening it without hesitation. "I hope you have the presence of mind to understand that I am angry."

"Yes. Perhaps a cold shower will be of assistance."

"I'll be in the garage."

No response came. Pixal exited Zane's door and closed the door behind herself.

Pixal stalked the whole way back to the garage, anger radiating through every part of her mechanical body. She shut off her tear producers until she reached the garages. She went to her nook– a corner filled with old blankets and pillows that radiated safety to her.

Only then did Pixal cry, and cry she did.

The only being with whom she could ever be compatible was gone. An uncaring robot stood in his place. She'd lost the love of her life, and worse, he couldn't even feel sorry about it.

She was left alone with her emotions now. No one would care. No one would come. Until Zane came to his senses, she didn't even have him.

Pixal had every right to be angry, but all she could do was sob.

[sortofshea]

WIP Snip

Thank you for the tag @thusspoketrish!!!

Finally getting around to posting a snippet from the fic I'm having the most fun writing at the moment.

Premise: Ginny and Harry are roommates at Grimmauld Place. One day, Ginny incites a prank war with Harry in which Pansy and Draco eventually find themselves embroiled. Ginny and Pansy are dating and Harry and Draco are hopelessly pining away for each other - now more than ever since their roommates dating each other means they are regularly forced into close proximity.

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It had begun as most of the chaotic happenings in Harry’s life often did nowadays – with Ginny Weasley being an unholy menace.

He supposes it isn't entirely her fault – she had grown up with Fred and George, after all – but this time Harry has decided that enough is enough. Every now and again Ginny likes to play pranks on him. Little things like switching the sugar with salt so that half awake, he gets a great mouthful of salty tea as he attempts to perk up with a cuppa in the morning, or hiding all of the writing tools in his studio so that when creative inspiration strikes, he has to dash all about the house to find something to sketch with.

The pranks don't usually bother him and he often finds harmless little ways to get back at her in kind, but for some reason this time is different.

They are in the kitchen one Friday afternoon, chatting with Draco and Pansy as the kettle boils, when Ginny opens a plastic water bottle and sets it on the counter. Harry doesn't notice this at first, engaged in conversation with Draco about his newest commission as he is, and Ginny exchanges a look with Pansy behind his back.

“Harry,” Ginny’s bewildered voice draws his attention, and he glances at her. She is looking down into the water bottle with concern. “Come look at this.”

“Look at what?” he asks, drifting closer and examining the water bottle as well.

“In there…” Ginny indicates, eyes unmoving from the bottle. He steps closer and she shifts to the side so that he can peer down into the bottle suspiciously.

“I don’t see-” As he leans over the mouth of the bottle, attempting to locate whatever it is that has Ginny so interested, she suddenly tightens her grip around it, squashing it in the middle and shooting a jet of room temperature water straight into Harry’s face and up his nose.

He lurches back with a surprised gurgle, reeling and spluttering. Pansy breaks into peals of laughter and Harry hears Draco make a strangled sort of aborted laugh before he covers his mouth and looks away, shoulders shaking silently.

Ginny is grinning wickedly, eyes glittering with mirth and Harry glares at her through water spots on his lenses.

“Why did you do that?” He demands, taking off his glasses and swiping his face with the arm of his jumper.

“I thought you could use a wash.” She shrugs dismissively, moving across to the table and settling herself in the chair next to Pansy. She leans back with a self-satisfied smile and drapes her arm over the back of Pansy’s chair casually.

“Watch your back, Gin.” He threatens menacingly, using the hem of his jumper to dry his lenses and then settling the frames back onto his face.

“Ooh, I’m so scared.” She gasps, shuddering theatrically and winking at Draco as he finally manages to compose himself. Draco presses his lips together but the twitch at the corner of his mouth betrays his amusement.

Maybe it's because of the audience. Maybe it's just because Harry finally gives in to that childish little voice in the back of his mind that is always insisting that he needs to compete with others, but he decides that this time, he will get back at Ginny in spectacular fashion.

This means war.

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Anyone who wants to participate, please do! I'd love to see everyone's current art/fic wips. I'd like to no pressure tag @daydreamingfoxglove @sightedkarma @starquestingfordrarry @hollyhawthorn @ratkingpoe @raptorhonks @glassf1re and @noctiloucous all from my wonderful book club <3

[soulntes]

2. RETURN OF A GHOST, HIS DREAMS

CHAPTER 3 : SEYKXEL'S PATH

this feels like a long dream..

a dream where he is free. running through the forest endlessly, taking in every detail she had to offer in his presence. from the bright sky with the sun's rays of light to the plant's strips on their leaves. the soil, leaves, grass, sticks, anything that his feet felt were new but something from a long time.

there was no way from waking up but isn't intending to when he feels a strong sense of aura and connection to the planet. it's purity and original richness of beauty that soothes your soul, feeling the need of protecting it.

miles remembers the part of the forest was close yet a long way to the tree of souls. he makes his way moving each plant, carefully not to alert dangerous creatures and during his long journey to the great mother's... he finds a home. only one.

as he examines the set up, he was impressed by the crafting built by hand from the stitching, to it being put together into a hut that caught his attention. around the cozy canopy there were several prey hanging near the fire set up, along with tools like utensils and herbs for cooking and weapons and medicine. there were toys as well, made out of some kind of straw and plants keeping it from falling apart that were shaped like horses and flying banshees.

their decorations of feathers and bones and anything they sew as it was welcoming to him. but why were there human weaponry inside since navi are against human technology?

other than the odd technology, the home felt comfortable and peaceful by it's nature surrounded with trees and a stream not too far from the hut. miles traces the home with his huge hand feeling the firm straw and sticks, it feels familiar to him but he never quite remembers being here.

the man confused with his memory heard a snap in the woods and pulls his knife out from his sheath on his chest, in a guarding position in case of a surprise attack. out where the sound came was a na'vi woman.. she seemed to be unfazed by his actions as she softly smiled at him, setting down her kill from a hunt, making her way towards him.

the na'vi woman approaches the marine putting her hands out in offering to hold. miles felt utterly speechless that she didn't see him as a threat and there's a feeling that she wasn't one.

this dream became to freak him out a bit.

he puts his knife back in and when he reaches out, suddenly sees his hands were blue- in fact his whole skin's blue but the only difference is that she has four fingers and his are five.

miles doesn't remember who he was before.

this was weird.

he puts his hand in hers, she pulls him closer to place her forehead against his, closing her eyes in a moment of bliss. taking in a deep, calming breath there was a moment of peace with the forest embracing their love.

this intimate and vulnerable moment he didn't understand that was happening, he felt loved and comfort. he closed his in return to enjoy the new found euphoria that his body embraces and return the gesture.

their moment was interrupted by a voice of a young.. human boy? "mother look at what i caught!" the boy held an odd creature with both hands offering it to his mother. miles wonders how are they related in circumstances since their species don't quite align with each other. plus, how the hell did he understand what they were saying? in his mind it's english but they way he hears it is in na'vi.

the na'vi woman smiles lovingly at the child praising and petting his braided hair then the young boy smiles directly at miles. the hell was going on his sleep since it is all a dream.

right?

next came another so called dream.

it was the same home. it was beginning to eclipse and all three of them were inside the hut. miles curled close to the woman meanwhile the boy next to her clings onto her side. she was awake staring at nothing with a glint of worry as she fiddles around with his five fingers and hums a soft melody.

he watches how her body language is different from the first time so he asks, feeling uneasy with her weird behavior, "what is wrong?" miles rests his head on hers grabbing her hand to kiss her knuckles.

this got her to look at him. he knew something bothered her, "depends what my answer is going to be, are you going to be upset?" she whispers biting her scared lip and her son slightly moves to find a comfortable position.

miles hums, sitting up to hear her out, holding her face gently in his hand, creasing the faint scars on her striped, blue skin under her left eye and her lips with a reassuring grin, "i'm not. with whatever you have to tell me, if it's important, i will do everything in my power to please you and be the man you deserve. for you and him."

the words that came out were on repeat because he doesn't even know who she or her kid is.. who he is. but he felt the need to prove himself to her that he can never be upset with her. the thought of displaying an emotion such as that towards her is sickening to him. she looks at his eyes carefully to find a hint of hesitation or slight disappointment.

there was nothing but reassurance and love in his eyes so she takes a couple of deep breaths and grabs his right hand and guides it towards her stomach.

she keeps looking down waiting for a kind of reaction that'll be a good sign, "i'm with child, yawntu."

her news came as a shock to him but he wasn't upset. not even the slightest, in fact he was fueled with excitement and brought her into an embrace with his hand behind her head while kissing her head and petting her hair.

"you don't have to worry anything, i'm happy about this." his words felt like her worries were lifted as she cries silently that he genuinely means it, "thank you.." she softly says with her ears pinned down and her heart full of relief.

... beep...

she tightly held onto him and rubbed her scent on him softly to display her loyalty but compassion and love towards him, "ma miles..."

"pulse 168!" someone says faintly.

miles looks at her, "yes?"

.... beep...

"i see you..."

everything disappeared. the home he was in disappeared. she disappeared.

a bright light shining and blocking his vision upon awaking his slumber.

"you're fine. stay calm." assured a female doctor with a white suit and see through mask.

the man that was in the same attire as the woman checking over whatever miles can barely grasp the situation.

his vision began to irritate him when it started to see clear of his surrounding, "colonel can you hear me? colonel?" suddenly he saw a navi in front him addressing him and punched him straight in the face and quickly stands on his two feet.

he is high on alert waking up to blue aliens everywhere that he growls to warn them off. miles didn't know what was really going on from those dreams to whatever they're putting him through at the moment he continues to fight various of navi in a crowded space of machines and wires.

the colonel uses whatever gadgets he can gets his hands on and his fists to keep them away while the blue soldiers were trying to maintain their awaken leader of his state of panic.

doctors were yelling to sedate him because they didn't think he was going to wake up suddenly to defend himself. it took a couple of punches and thrown objects for the recoms to get ahold of the colonel before he causes damage to himself when lyle confirms that it is him.

miles looks at him and his team carefully that all of them are avatars now. blue striped skin. pointy ears. bright yellow eyes. and behold a tail with a braid at the nape of their necks.

once he has calmed down he sees his hand with all five fingers not remembering anything past this, he slightly pushes the corporal aside where he can see his own reflection. the traits of the navi were on him now when he sees his small canine teeth but the only things had of himself is his hair is shaven and his tattoo.

"well ain't this a bitch." miles states at the karma he was at now. he got a recap of where their destination is heading to and the officials gave him a screen where he's going to look back at a video of himself from 16 years ago.

miles got into full military attire, a dark green tank top and pants with combat boots, he looks over the screen that lyle put him to watch a video of the man who passed his memories in any case of back fire.

the video started out as an introduction of the man with the memories that were given to him was colonel miles quaritch and that he is him. which meant only that he is alive because the original colonel died long ago at the battle against the navi. he describes what he might look like his last mission to bomb the tree of souls back fired.

a man named parker came to help quaritch about how it was going to work with the identity, personality and memories installed into a encoder device, a soul drive, that's going to get sent back to earth where he was in the process of growing in a lab. as a imprint of the original to return as recombinant bodies of their predecessors in continuing the mission. as fully autonomous avatars. reborn.

what he doesn't remember is his death because it wasn't installed only up to he can memorize. human colonel quaritch reminds him that they're any similar is that their looking for payback.. revenge on those who betrayed him and humanity but the only one they're after is jake sully.

miles does remember the man who he considered a reliable ally turned into a traitor when he escaped and announced war on the rpd.

human colonel's video log ended and miles was left with questions unanswered. is this his only purpose of birth to the rda? what would happen to him and the rest of the recoms after the mission is successful?

most of all, who is the na'vi woman he's been dreaming about in his procedure of growth?

everything he was trying to grasp begins to irritate him more especially his hatred towards the planet and indigenous habitants. his primary mission to hunt down and eliminate jake sully.

it so sudden but given the circumstances miles has to follow direct orders and lead the new group of recombinants of hybrid warriors for the mission.

- - ┈┈∘┈˃̶༒˂̶┈∘┈┈ - -

the omatikayans return from their recent raid against the rda, derailing the train transporting weapons and any kind of technology. their secret base location and sanctuary in the hallelujah mountains helped them tremendously since rda's gunships sensorys don't pick up any of their stolen technology.

the war party settled their ikrans on the edge of the rocks, ingyen hops off hers starting to look for her son. spider comes rushing to her when tuk announced their arrival, "sa'nok you're back!" he calls out and wraps his arms around her waist, smiling that she made it home safe.

ingyen goes on her knees to be equal in height and return the gesture to her child, "seykxel, my sweet child. everything went according as plan and the great mother guided me safe back to you." all during their sweet moment, jake scolds his second son, lo'ak, about his rash choice of not listening to orders of a spotter.

she always thought since the sky demons returned, jake sully became stricter and acted as if his sons were his soldiers. they were simply trying to please their father in complete different outcomes that'll get them grounded instead of guidance. ingyen already talked to neytiri of her husband's reactions towards their children and that she should remind him the importance of a child's ideals of their parents and children want to be seen.

after jake has left to seek complete his duties, ingyen goes to her nephew with a pat on his back and he leans into her touch. lo'ak will always be a good son in her eyes since he's been accepting and playful with her son throughout childhood.

"sometimes i want to pluck your sempul's eyes out and feed them to my tsìlpey or yell at him so i can lecture him about you boys." lo'ak shakes his head with a slight grin knowing she would do it without hesitation to defend her sister's children from any harsh punishment, especially the sons. she shoos him to attend to the ikran along her son so they'd get ready for dinner soon.

the day becomes night of organizing the materials and weapons and attending the injured, ingyen was beginning to have dreams of a navi man with very short hair with a black symbol on his right arm.

none of the avatars around the omatikaya fortress looked none like him and she was beginning to be cautious of who it might be.

it always start out in the forest where she was hunting or exploring along her boy then there'll some kind of shadow figure in sky people clothing either show up frequently in her vision or if he was actually there in front of her. cradling her face and intimate moments with each other.

she didn't know who to tell because her sister will imply guidance of some kind of sign mother eywa is trying to send about danger. obviously not jake sully because he didn't know much of the roots of having visions which he'll immediately take her to his sky friends to run some tests. the only option she has is her mother. the tsahik.

of course mother knows best. since the first day she brought seykxel to her, mo'at sent prayers so he can be lead into the path he is destine by eywa. her mother loved how small he was compared to navi babies and how she accepted him as her grandbaby telling him all that she knows so he can be well on his own as he gets older despite who his father was.

ingyen finishes the chores left around her home already heading towards the sully's hut where the whole family was gathered. the kids were inside with their grandmother as neytiri and jake were outside discussing among themselves. she entered greeting everyone and starts to watch their interaction before she can talk to her mother alone.

seykxel told his mom he was going with kiri and lo'ak to the lab so he can greet max and norm as well ask for more spare batteries. she agrees by pecking his forehead handing him his empty exo pack that he left in their home before sending him off.

as soon as they left her mother spoke first knowing she wanted to talk, "what is wrong my child? i've sensed your easiness ever since these raids began?"

ingyen can't ask how she knew because her mother would give her the knowing look so she sighed sitting next to her watching her organize her herbs and tools. "sa'nok, i've been experiencing these dreams of a man. a man i do not know or familiar with because nobody here has the exact image. no long hair, small ears, five fingers that are touching me and looking at me with admiration. we act like mates in what i dream and i am frighten by what it'll mean for me and seykxel. what do i do mother? what does it mean?" mo'at experiences in this kind of field where one dreams of another at where they could possibly meet or their destiny.

mo'at holds her daughter's hands closing her eyes to feel her energy and see if eywa has a quest or path she will end up in. within her heart, ingyen is prepared to what her mother may possibly tell by her worries and hint where her life might head to.

as soon as mo'at open her eyes, her face full of concern looking at her daughter when she pulls away gently. her mother knows something is upon her daughter and her grandson. she takes a deep breath before she spoke, "'ite, what is upon you you choose what is right and whatever the path you are lead to, helps you in what you're looking for. what seykxel desires in his life. there's someone waiting for you both."

ingyen now is frantic what got her mother to the conclusion of finding what she was looking for and someone waiting. she didn't need anything else other than her child. this someone she doesn't know, are they looking for her as well?

mo'at continues, "my child.."

- - ┈┈∘┈˃̶༒˂̶┈∘┈┈ - -

the three kids were in the lab since kiri visits her mom daily keeping her updated on her life and how much she loves her and wishes to have known her. sometimes she talks to her as if she were really there.

spider already knows how much it means to her when he joins her when they're pretty much orphans and take in by their parents. orphans stick together.

"you know what really sucks though. you can breathe earth air for like hours, i only can breathe yours like ten seconds. i even have to hold my breath when i take my mask off to eat something my mom makes before i die of starvation. " spider states while taking off his mask in the lab.

"yes that really sucks monkey boy. for you." kiri teases him poking fun at him and she was reaching for her mask, spider tugs the end of her tail for play and have a hissing contest.

the kids greet max and norm preparing to wrap up their day of overload work. before spider mentions of his batteries norm grabs four spare and toses them to him and he thanks him.

they're watching old videos of dr. augustine's research and experience on pandora as a scientist and the discoveries that she is theorizing meanwhile hanging out with the humans. lo'ak out nowhere mentions how kiri's mom became pregnant.

"so who do you think knocked her up?"

"pretty sure it was norm." spider comments and lo'ak agrees.

kiri looks at them in disgust, "you don't deserve to live." lo'ak does it all time where he wants to know the truth of his sister's birth but in a way she gets embarrassed.

"he's the teachers pet. he's out of the lab with her all the time."

"i would kill myself. i would drink acid." kiri stares at both boys at her claims and spider points at the video laughing, "bro you're right. he's like in every shot. look! he's giving her the look."

then she slightly pushes spider to quit with the teasing which is making her upset and he immediately stops.

her little brother always wants to find trouble so he continues his rambling, "see, i'm thinking their two avatars together out into the woods.. all alone." kiri hits her brother yelling how gross it is of what he is assuming between her mom and norm.

the topic of fathers bothered spider because he didn't really have one and the way he sees other navi kids with both parents has him wanting that. he does have all of his mother's love, he just wants to at least experience it.

spider always feels as if he was born into this world just be compared who his biological father and from that day since he abandoned the name miles completely, took on seykxel, the name his mother gave, and spider so he could at least be accepted. it wasn't always like that because his mother is also outcast since she took him in and raised him as her own son.

he feels guilty to loving him came with the consequence of not being seen as a true navi no matter how much he was born into their lifestyle. he wasn't like the deceased man who hurt the omatikayans.

he'll never be like him.

"guys, i mean sometimes it's not so great to know who your father was." spider sadly points out how much the man is hated deeply by everyone. at one point anyone thinks when they see him, all they see is that cruel, despicable man.

the sully kids stayed silent which made spider wanting to change the conversation that he never even met him. both of them try to let know that he isn't him.

kiri hold onto spider to budge him out of whatever he's thinking, "you know your mother doesn't think of you as him. all she sees is her son. seykxel kay. that's what she named you, monkey boy. 'your strength from now in the future'."

he already knows the meaning of his name that his mom gave him the first day she met him. he remembers hearing his song cord for the first time that she crafted with love and sang it every night to this day. to remind him as the blessing in her life of his birth.

when he returns to his hut, he sees his mom preparing their beds as she mumbles under her breath. she has a habit of doing that but today was unusual because she went to see his grandmother for something.

ingyen sees her son entering and greets him with warm hug and pecks his mask, "oh 'itan, welcome home. i hope you behaved at the lab because i have a gift for you."

spider's face lit up when she brought out a covered object laid carefully on the ground. she sat down patting the floor indicating him to sit next to her.

he sat down looking at her first then the wrapped up gift. ingyen nods towards it giving him permission. he was curious on what it was so he takes the cloth off steadily because if it is something important he didn't want to break it on accident.

ingyen couldn't contain her excitement ready to see if her boy loves what she made for him. spider finally unraveled and what he saw is a bow that's a bit bigger than his regular one but perfect for his height.

decorated in the colors of the mighty warrior he's heard in his mother's stories before and during the battle of the hallelujah mountains. the stories of the warrior he admires and what he appeared as and his colors, everything were almost on the bow.

he's speechless stuttering over his words.

"do you like it seykxel?" she says waiting for his response and he touches the bow on how soft the handle is and how strong the string feels. the texture is simply incomparable.

"sa'nok, what's it for?" he questions looking at her curiously as to why it's his gift, ingyen chuckles grabbing his new bow handling it in his hands, "it's for you silly. this bow i decorated and with the help of uncle norm and max adjusting to your size, an early birthday gift like they say. this is like the mighty warrior's, tsu'tey's, bow that he gave me to pass down and now it's yours, ma'itan."

spider couldn't believe it. this was really his bow he uses in his toughest battles. he couldn't handle the joy tackling his mom in a bear hug with tears in his eyes. she comforts him meanwhile he thanks her with gratitude.

ingyen smiles widely at the excitement her son is experiencing, "you deserve it seykxel, become the warrior you want to be. the great mother knows you best."

now spider is hopeful that the name his mother gave him, he will live up to it.

- - ┈┈∘┈˃̶༒˂̶┈∘┈┈ - -

they're almost landing their long trip from earth, the recoms prepare for their important mission to bring justice to earth. miles quaritch is determined bringing back the traitor for betrayal all those years ago he has in his memories.

but miles can't shake off the idea of the woman with the human child as he falls back into his slumber and hopes in dreaming the same to find the answers he is desperately looking for.

TAGLIST

@skinmittensgoblin @eternallyvenus @winxschester @perseny @cleverzonkwombatsludge @reallysparklychaos @im-in-a-pansexual-panik @liyahsocorro @violet-19999 @drinking-tea-and-be-obsessed

[zimwy]

a gift has been left upon one’s doorstep by the children of the night , containing the finest clothing from the vampire nation & the sweetest of treats from switzerland . a little note is included , cursive writing saying : thank you for the gifts . I hope you enjoy these in return — dracula .

truthfully, barnes had expected total isolation and disengagement from the looming public eye for a solid three or four days after his flight back to indiana. alpine liked the air better here than in new york, and he'd be lying if he didn't say the baseboards of his home that only cricked the first time he put his weight back on them were leagues more soothing than the constant bustle of new york city.

he could not say dracula's appearance was particularly public, but there was a designation there--work relations, in some way or another--that barnes rarely thought of as a crossable line. it was different, many years ago, beating back hydra and nazis all over the european front of war; no matter how agitating and confrontational his fellow invaders could be, they were still his friends, his family. there was no peeling away one layer to find the other, ripe and fresh.

but that was then. he's made an effort to create distinction, now. hell, he barely even talks to namor anymore, and his relationship with steve.. waned, at times.

alpine sits at the window and trills, meowing a bit indignantly at his scent on the wind. her tail, white and clean, bristles like a pipe brush. bucky emerges from his small, pristine kitchen, instant meal cupped by the unfeeling grip of his metal hand, allowing him to disregard the wafting heat. ' something got you worked up, girl? squirrel out there or something? ' he questions, rounding alpine's left to peek out her window. he saw nothing, but there was a vague, stationary shape at his porch, low and too still to be anything but a package.

his heart races for half a second, imagining a litany of threats buried in the box. a shrapnel bomb, a trigger that released a nerve agent or inhalant gas, a firearm or slug as a threat, the hand of one beloved.

paranoid, barnes. he cracks his door open, but, on instinct, thumbs the package with his adamantium hand, a thin blade ejecting from the center of his palm. he uses that to cut through the tape, careful not to nick the internals, the blade making a thudding sound as it collapses and folds back into the empty space it occupied in his arm. bucky unfolds the note, first. ' thank you for the gifts.. ' he mumbles, narrating the note aloud to himself. alpine trots over to the open door, but, like a good cat, doesn't bolt past her owner. she presses both paws into his shoulders, as if she could leer over and get a look at what he was up to. a soft breath goes out of bucky, and he cant tell if it's relief or cheap amusement, or both. definitely easier ways to get to him if the vampire wanted him dead, so..

bucky gently nudges alpine back, hauls the box up to inspect it's contents with more respectful reverence, and shuts the door with his hip. he sets it on the cleanest part of his counter (barnes wasn't a slob by any means, but there was some presence of clutter--manilla papers, mechanical tools, a garrote that needed a new finish on the wire), then takes to examining his gifts.

fine clothing, and a try-me-platter of sweets, the packaging indicating it's origin as swiss. barnes knows all the words, the language like a cousin to german, one he'd heard forty years ago out of the mouth of a petrified weapons developer. he blinks that memory away, gently setting aside the platter to bring the outfit up to his neck.

though he wasn't trying it on, he could tell it was almost perfectly sized to his measurements.

odd.

oddly intimate, actually. something hot and strange burns around bucky's face, settling guiltily in his abdomen. he hadn't told dracula nor any of his children what size he was, the length of his legs, the width of his back or small of his waist. he carefully folds the gifted garb in the way he knows how--militial, fine, tight--and steals one of the magenbrot cookies from the covered platter, making sure it's lid snapped back into place.

how was he going to thank him? he didn't have his phone number. did he even have a phone? bucky frowns, then, seizes the tray of sweets (alongside his cooling supper) and makes for his couch to continue watching MASH.

@vldtepes

[driftward]

Title: The Disappearance of Apple Silverberg Characters: Zoissette Vauban, Ryssthota Sundstyrwyn, Apple Silverberg Rating: Teen Summary: Apple's gone missing and there's a killer loose in the Twelveswood. Can Gage Acquisition's very own agent of inquiry crack this case before something horrible happens? Notes: Part of an ongoing series being written by my friend Darlain, base master post here

Ryss frowned. She'd greeted Zoissette when arriving at the workshop before settling down to focus on her latest set of equations, leaving the other woman to her own devices. But then Zoissette had made a beeline for Apple's area in the workshop, which while not against any formal rule, was, at least, kind of rude. She watched her for a few moments as Zoissette ducked down over Apple's desk, beginning to rifle through drawers and picking through various tools.

"What are you doing, Zo?" she asked at last.

"Have you seen Apple?" asked Zoissette.

"No."

"Weird, right?"

Ryss paused, and thought about it for a moment.

"Not really?" she said, finally. "We're adventurers, Zoissette, and Apple likes to go on those long sojourns into secured Allagan territory looking for materials for her work."

"Of course, of course," said Zoissette. She had found some kind of notebook, and was flipping through it quickly.

"...that's Apple's stuff," said Ryss, keeping her tone even. Working in the Assessor's Guild had taught her patience with the queerest of arcanists, and her friend was queerer than most.

"Ignore the last couple of sennights. Where has she been spending most of her time before then?"

"...well, she was helping out taking care of you," said Ryss. Zoissette had been in a bad way after a misadventure in the rift between realms and had needed to be nursed back to health. "And when she was not in the infirmary, she was in here, working on something that'd help you."

"Right. Right! She has been reliably in the same place, for several sennights, up until very suddenly she was not. Did not sign out, did not check with anyone, did not say goodbye to anyone near as I have found out. Wait. Did she say goodbye to you?"

"No..."

"No," echoed Zoissette.

"Zoissette," said Ryss.

"Right. Not to you, not to me, not to anyone else on the science team. Maybe to Y'zel, but he has vanished as well. Though Y'shtola has assured me to not worry about him. Still though. Just suddenly gone. Unusual break in pattern."

Zoissette frowned as she traced her fingers along a few lines in the notebook she had found.

"Have you tried linking to her?" asked Ryss.

"Naturally. You try. Maybe mine got fried during the time in - well. Maybe it got scrambled on some links without me knowing."

Ryss held a hand up to her linkpearl and tried to contact Apple through it, watching as Zoissette began to examine some device Apple had been working on.

The door to the workshop opened, and Yesuntei walked in, followed closely by a Wood Wailer. The linkpearl was making the noise that indicated it could not establish a connection, so Ryss gave up on it and turned to greet the newcomer.

"Visitor for Zoissette," said Yesuntei politely.

Zoissette looked the Wood Wailer over. So did Ryss. Elezen gentleman of some sort, wearing the typical green leather armor of one of their lancers. The very image of a typical member of the forest force.

"Foreseer Vauban?" he asked.

Ryss glanced over and saw Zoissette's forehead crinkle and her eyes flutter as she tried to affect some kind of specific facial expression, what, Ryss did not know. Zoissette gave up and wiped her face with a hand after a moment as she stood up and walked over.

"Not in some time, no."

"But... you are, or were, her, yes?"

Zoissette nodded, and he continued. "Ah, blessings of the elementals upon us all today. We've heard about your prowess for investigation, and you come highly recommended. Now, I know Gridania is a different sort of place, but I rather suspect we're dealing with a different sort of problem that's beyond my people just now. We think we may have a killer on the loose. I was hoping that we'd be able to hire your services as an adventurer to come take a look."

Zoissette looked over at Ryss, who shrugged in response, then back to the Wood Wailer.

"Begging your pardon, but I have no idea how I would have gathered such a reputation. Having said that, Gage Acquisitions does offer several adventurer hiring packages, and... uhm..."

She looked over at Ryss.

"...and, uhm, you will need to work through Ryss for them."

Ryss grinned at the man.

"Ah, but I was rather hoping for your attention, Foreseer Vauban."

"And you will have it," said Zoissette. Ryss watched as she tucked several things of Apple's away, from notebooks to tools to a device that she did not recognize. "However, contracts will need to go through her, as I am currently, uhm-"

"She's currently working on a project under me!" said Ryss, covering for her awkward friend.

The Wood Wailer did not look very certain at that, but he nodded.

"Yesuntei, kindly make the arrangements, if you would, I'm sure we can both spare the Wailers some of our time." Ryssthota continued.

"Certainly," the Au Ra said, gesturing at the Wood Wailer. He held his arms parallel to each other in front of him in the salute that was particular to Gridania, and then followed Yesuntei out.

"The game's afoot?" said Ryss.

"What game?" asked Zoissette, blinking at her. Ryss just laughed as she closed up her book, and went to grab her hat.

It was many bells and a couple of corpses later. The Wood Wailers had signed them on to the job officially, and had escorted them, first to look at the body of a man found in town, then to the body of a ziz whose injuries bore a striking resemblance to those of the man. Both sites were grisly, telling similar tales. Both bodies had been maimed, each looking as though they had been attacked with some kind of large bladed weapon or weapons.

As they had travelled, the Wood Wailers had shared the stories of similar incidents throughout the Twelveswood. Other bodies had been found over the intervening moons before hand. Many but not all of them were Spoken, and the Wood Wailers had found the bodies of both man and beastkin that had shown similar signs of mutilation, and brought these stories to the attention of the investigation as well.

Zoissette had not spoken much, and so Ryss had been left to ask questions. Where the bodies had been found, who had last seen them, anyone who might have talked to the victims before they died, things of that nature. Zoissette had mostly walked around and looked and taken notes, every once in a while reaching up to try to tap the rim of her glasses, which she of course did not have, and often winding up just thwapping herself in the nose instead.

It might have been funny if not for the circumstances.

Ryss wandered up to her as she was crouched, sprinkling some arcane powder over the site, and watching as its color shifted. Ryss crossed her arms and frowned, looking out into the forest. Nearby, Meya was looking up into the forest canopy, her eyes half-lidded. Zoissette had asked for her to help. As a Hearer, her ability to commune with the elementals might provide information they otherwise would not be privy to. As Zoissette examined the drifts of the arcane powder, Meya lowered her staff, apparently having finished communing with the spirits.

"The elementals are cautiously calm, and are not very upset on the matter," she declared. "Whatever it is, it is not unduly balancing the wood. They are unable to tell us who or what is behind these attacks, but they do know it is the same entity for both. Given some time to visit the other sites, they may be able to tell me more about the other similar scenes that the Wood Wailers report have occurred elsewhere in the Twelveswood. They say we are dealing with a creature of significant depth - I think maybe they are talking about its aether? - but not one they see as a threat to the woods as a whole."

Ryss nodded thoughtfully while Zoissette scribbled some notes.

"Almost want to say we have some kind of vengeful vigilante sort out here. None of the victims were well liked. Hells, other than the one drunkard actually found in town, none of them are even part of what I would call civilization," said Ryss.

"If so, it is an outsider of some sort pursuing what they see as justice," said Zoissette thoughtfully. "Gridanians are insular. In many ways worse than my own people. Think about it. They have a poaching and bandit problem, sure, but everyone knows everyone else here, usually with pretty small degrees of separation. This is not Limsa Lominsa, where a lone killer might have it out for a rival pirate crew, or Ul'dah where they're spread out and family lines are weaker. No, if you kill a bandit in Gridania, you are very likely killing someone's brother or sister."

"Oh. And that could mean bad blood between neighbors."

Zoissette looked thoughtful. "Right! But I do not think this is that. If vigilantism or some gesture at misguided justice, why bother with the beastkin, then?"

"I was wonderin' that. Killer got hungry, perhaps?"

"Too much meat left behind for that, and the Wailers pointed out that no body found yet has been even so little as field stripped. Consider the patterns we do have. The fact that the bodies are completely undressed leaves out poachers or hunters. They would want to harvest at least some of the material from the beastkin, leather, meat, useful bones and organs. I think we can also rule out a vigilante. A vigilante would not bother with killing beastkin. And further I think they would leave the bodies somewhere more conspicuous if they wanted to send a message."

"More conspicuous? The bodies are plenty obvious."

"Obvious, to be certain! No effort was made to display them, but also, no effort was made to hide them, either. The killer did not care if they were found. A vigilante, I would think, would either want to hide their tracks, so that they could get away with their grisly task for as long as they possibly could, or so as not to tip their hand as to what they are up to. Or, or! Or they would display the bodies prominently, so as to send a message."

Ryss looked thoughtful for a moment. "...but our killer has done neither. I noticed that myself. The bodies weren't moved at all. No drag marks. Just left to drop where they were killed."

Zoissette nodded.

Ryss returned the gesture. "That rules out the easy options, and explains why the Wailers are hiring outside help."

"It does. We have a few more left, however. Our killer left behind meat, but that does not mean they did not feed."

Zoissette gestured at the thin coloring of the arcanist powder she had spread as it drifted through the air. Ryss looked at it thoughtfully.

"Aetherical signatures?"

Zoissette nodded. "I used this powder in some investigations in Mor Dhona, and have made some adjustments to its capabilities. Like you say, normally it is useful for seeing someone's aetheric signature. I wanted to see if perhaps we could get a read on any spell work that had been used - if nothing else, we might be able to match it to a known spell caster, should we ever get any potential suspects. But, look - I will want to go back to the workshop and get a set of goggles from Sharlayan to confirm it, but there is more to aether than just its signature. There is also its density."

Ryss crossed her arms, and frowned.

Zoissette reached up for her glasses rim again, and again wound up just thwapping her nose. She did not seem to notice, however, and Ryss thought she caught a glint of purple in Zoissette's otherwise brown eyes.

"And each of our victims has an unusually low aetheric density."

"Uhm. Are... you sure about that, Zo?"

"Like I said. I would like to confirm that with equipment from the workshop. Or perhaps Meya's invisible friends can weigh in?"

"I can ask," said Meya, who had patiently been listening the entire time.

"Please do so. And check in with the other sites. Say, do the elementals have a concept of time?"

"Sort of," said Meya. "Or at least, enough for us to get impressions. They do experience time, just a little different from us, but similar enough. Why do you ask?"

"Hmn," said Zoissette. "See if you can get a sense of when each of the attacks occurred. Little interested in time of day. Very interested in calendar dates. Approximations will be fine, I do not expect them to know what a calendar is, but surely they can approximate the number of times the sun has gone past since an event happened?"

Meya nodded slowly. "I... think I can manage that. I will need some time. This is neither fast nor simple."

Ryss just looked at Zoissette oddly as the other woman stood up and stretched her back.

"I believe you have it. Thank you, Meya. Meet us back at the workshop?"

Meya nodded, and moved off. Ryss walked over to look over Zoissette's shoulder, to see that she was tracing a finger over dates she'd written down, of when each of the bodies had been found. Ryss frowned lightly.

"I don't see a pattern," she said.

"Of course not," murmured Zoissette. She tapped the dates each. They were the days on which the Wood Wailers had found one of the grisly scenes, including the most recent one. "How long do you think a body lasts out in the Twelveswood before scavengers get to it? Three days at most, you think?"

"Sure?"

Zoissette nodded, and flipped over to a calendar, in which she made marks on each of the dates, along with little red marks three days behind each of them.

"So that means it is entirely possible that a body would be gone before a Wailer patrol could find it and identify it. Consider also - they have told us of the bodies they found matching the pattern we see here with these two, the ziz and the man. But they will not always be able to identify a body as matching that pattern if the scavengers do get to it first. Lot of death in nature."

Zoissette thoughtfully made some more marks.

"I suspect Meya may be able to confirm this... but look. There is no pattern, but if you put a few additional data points in - one emerges. I think Meya is like to confirm this."

Zoissette handed the notes to Ryss, and Ryss looked. With Zoissette's additional marks, a pattern did emerge.

A semi-regular schedule. About once a month, an attack occurred, rarely more than a few days off in either direction.

Ryss quirked an eyebrow, and looked at Zoissette, but Zoissette just shook her head.

"Probably nothing for now. Just keep it in mind as we gather more evidence."

Ryss looked at the body. "So what are you thinking, then? A voidsent?"

Zoissette frowned lightly. "I am not sure. It would fit, except that voidsent, while common in the Great Wood, are generally not so messy. This speaks to a powerful voidsent, if it is."

"Right," said Ryss, thinking back to what they had already found. "Yeah, most of the places where it looked to be a fight, wasn't much of a one. Doesn't look like anybody even had much of a chance to run."

"Which is unusual. Consider. How could a voidsent get that powerful and go unnoticed? And most voidsent that are that powerful will want to continue to go unnoticed, lest people like us get called in to deal with them. Or if it is not that smart, why is the last site from over a sennight ago, then? Did it suddenly get shy?"

"A period of terror, then a sudden stop," said Ryss, thoughtfully. "Maybe somebody dealt with it already. Or maybe the conditions were good for it to be here, then suddenly they weren't."

"Maybe," said Zoissette, sounding doubtful. "Well, there is little more for us to learn out here, I think. Can I ask you to verify that aetheric density theory of mine?"

"Sure thing," said Ryss. "What are you going to do in the meantime?"

Zoissette tucked her equipment away. "I am going to go visit Apple. Last I was aware, her houseboat had an aetheryte on it."

Ryss fixed Zoi with a long look. "This isn't the first time she's dashed off to chase some Allagan ruin rumor without notice. But you're fixating. Why?"

Zoissette looked away, worry clearly written on her face. Ryss rested a hand on her shoulder.

"...I want to give her my thanks for looking over me," said Zoissette, quietly. "And I am worried about her. Is this not just like what happened to me? Everyone just assumed I was fine until suddenly I was gone and it was obvious I was not. And maybe this is better than sitting on my own thoughts too long and too much. Again."

Ryss took in a deep breath, and nodded. "...yeah. Okay. You're right. Wait up and let me take those readings first and I'll go with you. Maybe it's all these bodies making me nervous, but I'm starting to get worried too."

Zoissette looked up at her and smiled. "Thanks, Ryss."

"Don't mention it. Or do. Preferably when someone asks about it for my next performance review."

Zoissette gave as short laugh, and Ryss grinned at her.

It did not take Ryss long to confirm Zoissette's theory. She was not sure how Zoissette knew, but examining each of the bodies with the Sharlayan aetheric goggles had confirmed what she had said. The aether of each of the bodies was far thinner than it should have been, even beyond the usual veil of death. They had been drained, and for what, she did not know. And despite what Zoissette had said, she still rather suspected a voidsent.

Something large, with claws like blades.

She met Meya back at Headquarters. The woman was all smiles, despite the grimness of her task.

"The elementals were cooperative. I was only able to get vague impressions from them, but the same thing has been in the Twelveswood before, and is responsible for the bodies found. And a few others aside. They cannot describe it to me, but it is distinct to them. They're a little worried about it, but not very, not yet - not enough to take action. I hope we're catching it before it becomes a problem."

Ryss nodded as Meya handed her a sheet of paper. "And here's the dates of the other attacks, as near as I could manage. The way they describe time is different than how we experience it, but it's like we like to say amongst the Hearers - the land has a long memory."

Ryss nodded, and checked over the dates.

"Huh," she said. "She was right. There was a pattern."

Meya nodded thoughtfully. And then tilted her head up at Ryss. "How is she holding up? After the breakup?"

Ryss blinked.

"She hasn't said anything about that."

"Oh. Oh! Uhm. She kind of just blurted it out when we were speaking earlier, but if she hasn't brought it up with you, then maybe nevermind then."

Ryss just groaned, and Meya patted her on the shoulder.

"Well, look after her, will you?" said Meya.

"Of course," said Ryss, rubbing at her head.

Well, at least Zoissette had found an arguably healthy outlet for her anxieties this time, she supposed.

She and Zoissette arrived at the houseboat in the same teleportation spell, Ryss taking the lead so as not to tax Zoissette's anima. The teleportation energies dissipated around them both and the world faded in rapidly as they arrived on Apple's houseboat.

Odd. This was not where Apple usually docked it.

Zoissette was off, quickly. Ryss kept a careful eye on her as she and Ryss took several moments to wordlessly walk around the top deck. The houseboat was moored, but had been abandoned for some time. The hatches were all battened down, and the windows and front door had all been warded and secured quite firmly.

"Guess she's not here," said Ryss.

"And did not expect to return," said Zoissette. "Examine the wards again."

Ryss looked at them carefully, this time paying more attention to the arcanima techniques that had been used to make them.

"...huh," she said. "No, I see what you mean. Static, shouldn't need maintenance for a while, and with a secondary arcanima array makin' sure they keep aether stable without needing more crystals than were used to bring them up in the first place."

"And the rest of the ship - you worked in the Maelstrom, same as me. Look at how the mooring lines have been done, the hatches, and the bilge overflow lineup."

Ryss checked again. Everything had been set to stay, rather than a more convenient setup that would make more sense for docking if the owner had, in fact, intended to come back.

"...this is more than just a gone-for-holiday setup," said Ryss.

"Indeed. I suspect you have rarely seen this setup; I know I have only seen it once or twice. This boat has been abandoned in place. Getting it properly seaworthy again would take bells, but with this setup, it will float for moons, possibly even summers, assuming a storm does not smash it."

Ryss put her hands on her hips and scanned the water, frowning as she thought. "Why the hells would she do such a thing?"

Zoissette just made a noncommittal noise, and Ryss turned to see the woman crouched down, fiddling with the front door.

"We can't break in just because we're worried," Ryss protested.

"No?" said Zoissette.

"Zoissette."

Zoissette sighed, and stopped what she was doing.

"Come on. Even if we're worried, there are other things we can do before we break into her house. Ask one of the spies to look into it. Ioh, Iyna, Nyx, they're all good at tracking people down."

Zoissette was quiet for a moment. Ryss decided now was as good a time as ever to bring it up.

"Dumped Mathye, eh?"

"This is not about that," Zoissette protested. Then she sighed. "...but yes," she admitted, letting her shoulders sag a bit as she leaned against the door.

"Better than stringing him along when you know it ain't happening. Chase your bliss, girl!" said Ryss.

Zoissette let out a breath. "Okay. Yes. I know it was the right thing to do. But it hurts. And he is hurting. And everything hurts. And I did not want to hurt him but I did and right now I would rather stay focused on Apple and hope she is okay."

Ryss nodded, and patted Zoissette on the shoulder. "It was a clean break. Nothing wrong with that. Clean wounds heal properly."

Zoissette blinked a few times at that, and a quizzical kind of frown crossed her face, as her eyes darted back and forth as she thought before she looked up at Ryssthota.

"...that is not a perspective I had considered," she said. "You are right."

Zoissette turned her attention back to the door, took a deep breath in, and let it out slow, her stance strengthening once more.

She was going to be alright.

"Atta girl. Now let's see-"

Ryss stopped suddenly. Zoissette was no longer fiddling with the door, but had been leaning against it, apparently resting her hand rather heavily on its latch. Apparently, because it was hard to say what she had thought she saw happened.

She was fair certain Zoissette's arm had faded and gone through the door for a moment.

She was not sure though, because in the next instant, the door had suddenly opened, and Zoissette had fallen into the houseboat.

"Zo!"

"I'm alright! I am alright! Sorry, just - startled."

Ryss rushed over and looked in to see Zoissette sprawled out on the floor, looking around the place and blinking owlishly.

"What the hells just happened? Zo, what'd you do?"

"I did not do anything! The door must have opened from the inside."

Ryss leaned over and looked around inside carefully, her mind starting to reach for Glitterdust to summon the fairy. If there was anyone inside, and they were not Apple, she intended to meet them with axe and magic.

But as she looked, there was no movement, no noise, no nothing. Just Zoissette starting to pick herself up off the floor, and Ryss herself.

"Well, since we are in here anyroad," said Zoissette.

"...right," said Ryss.

They took a bell to search the houseboat. It did not particularly need to take that long, as the houseboat was not all that large, as houseboats often were not, but they were thorough, checking under things, in the overhead, behind every stick of furniture and in every drawer. Zoissette found some notes of Apple's quickly and had split her attention between reading them and helping search.

Zoissette's focus was different, now. Less frenetic, now. Ryss was pleased at the change, as she went to confirm what they had already learned from the outside.

Namely, that the houseboat had been set to be abandoned in place. None of its equipment was set up for sailing, ceruleum had been drained, pipe systems had valve lineups set up for abandonment, wards set, everything locked, tied down, or otherwise secured.

"Nobody's here," said Ryss at last.

"And has not been in some time," agreed Zoissette. She was fiddling with one of Apple's drawers, using the arcane powder again. Whatever she saw caused her to frown.

"Find something?"

"...nothing that I want to say is conclusive," said Zoissette. "The bottom of this drawer has an arcane seal though. Fiendishly complicated.

"...wish I had Lavender," she murmured softly.

"I have Glitterdust," offered Ryss.

"Glitterdust is more frontline combat oriented. Lavender and I had advanced cryptographic arithmetics, since we delved deep into Nym research data. Wait. Hang on."

Zoissette pulled out the familiar arcanist's quill and inks, reaching into the drawer, beginning to draw geometries. Her eyes had that odd purple glow to them again, this time Ryss was certain of it.

"I might remember enough to do this without her," Zoissette was murmering quietly. Ryss wanted to ask her about the glow, but also did not want to break her concentration.

"There!" said Zoissette, doing something Ryss could not see, but a moment later she came up with journals. She flipped one open to read it.

"Zoi?" asked Ryss.

"Diaries," said Zoissette. "Here. I do not want to pry into her personal life overmuch, but..."

Zoissette gestured for Ryss to get closer, and then waved a hand at the little arcane powder that was left in the drawer.

"...no," said Ryss.

Zoissette nodded. "It is not identical, but there are too many similarities to discount, between the patterns and colors. Here. Let me try again. Go test some on her wards."

Zoissette handed a small pouch of the arcane powder to Ryss. Ryss nodded, and quickly began testing it on various wards around Apple's home. Questions about Zoissette's oddness could wait.

The results were quick and obvious. Ryss returned to Zoissette, who had begun reading through the diaries.

"Signature is close to the one we found in the Twelveswood," said Ryss.

"Aspects are slightly different, but the baseline is the same," agreed Zoissette. "Did you know she was working on a method of restoring my aetheric density?"

"I knew she was working on something to help you. I wasn't able to keep up with what. I was trying to tend to and repair the laboratory."

"And her diary entries talk about a condition she has," said Zoissette, softly. "The need to hunt animals. About once a month. She shifted to Azys Lla at some point to handle it."

Zoissette handed the journals to Ryss, who took them and looked through them cautiously. Zoissette had a haunted expression on her face.

"She has a research lab in Azys Lla," said Ryss. "We helped her set it up. Maybe she's just working on something else to help?"

Zoissette frowned, then shook her head, slowly.

"I think something has gone very wrong."

"Do we go after her, then?"

"Absolutely," said Zoissette. Then a moment later, more forcefully, "Yes. Yes, absolutely. Contact Erick or Dark. Whoever answers, let them know we might need a full team. Mix of heavy assault, assault picket, and support, two squads worth. While he works on that, we need to find her. I am going to contact Nyx and Klynt. We will go in as a light search and rescue party to begin with, see if we can find her."

"What do you think has happened?" asked Ryss, as her hand went to her linkpearl.

"I dare not speculate without more evidence," said Zoissette. She opened her mouth as if to say more, then shook her head, and she began placing her own linkpearl calls.

~*~

It was scarcely a bell later, and they were walking across the unusual landscape of Azys Lla, heading towards Apple's laboratory. Ryss was careful as she walked along, keeping an eye out, axe in her hands. She had not summoned Glitterdust - not yet - but the stone that held the little fairy was tucked into a pocket. Klynt was with her, with her long and deadly naginata on her back. Zoissette had her gunblade and was leading the way with Nyx, who had elected to serve as their spellcaster.

She saw Zoissette headtilt just a little at the same time one of Nyx's ears twitched and rotated, and both of them snapped to turn their gaze to the same place at the same time. Ryss and Klynt stopped and settled into a fighting stance, Klynt watching the other direction while Ryss tried to see whatever it was the other two had seen.

"Unknown contact, rank four aetheric signature, indeterminate nature, one hundred and fifty yalms at two hundred and eighty five by minus fourteen," said Nyx in their characteristic monotone. "Line of sight broken. Contact lost."

Ryss murmured to Zoissette, "Did you see it?"

Zoissette shook her head. "I - I am not sure what I saw. Nothing, possibly. Quickly, let us get to the lab - I want to use the arcane powder there, and see if Nyx can determine anything from the signature."

"Right," said Ryss. The party was quick to hurry on to Apple's lab. Periodically Zoissette would look around, as though she had caught sight of something, Nyx's ear twitching often at the same time, but Zoissette would only shake her head and ignore whatever it was as they continued on.

At Apple's lab, Klynt and Zoissette took to watching the perimeter while Ryss sprinkled the arcane powder on some of Apple's experiments. She watched as the colours and patterns fell out of the swirling dust.

"Same as we saw on the houseboat and in the Twelveswood," she called over to Zoissette.

"Nyx, compare and cross reference to the contact, and report," called back Zoissette.

Nyx stared for a few moments before responding.

"Signature patterns recognized. Match with limited data from unknown contact at thirty-two percent confidence," said Nyx.

"Is that high or low?" asked Ryss.

"Hard to say," said Zoissette, coming closer. "Nyx has senses neither you nor I possess, but Azys Lla interferes with them."

"I will be able to use this data to assist in locating the entity using the Azys Lla facility sensors once I am able to interface with a command and control station," said Nyx.

"I don't like this," mumbled Klynt. "Bad feeling on the wind."

Ryss frowned and looked out over the landscape.

"Alright. Let us move quickly, then. Nyx, lead us to the nearest station. I want to try to avoid contact with the entity until we have secured that station. And avoid the local life forms for now - they are additional trouble we can do without," said Zoissette.

The group all nodded, and moved efficiently as one. Azys Lla was a dim place, some aspect of the facility always generating a thick cloud that obscured it from the outside and gave it a dark foreboding haze. Strange plants grew from the ground and stranger creatures wandered its spaces, and yet, despite that, the place somehow felt lifeless. Or worse, faintly malevolent, as though it would snuff any life that fell short of its unreasonably lethal expectations.

The command and control station was a simple dome like structure, one of many that could be found scattered sparsely across Azys Lla. Inside was the usual array of floating spherical or egg-shaped drones and computing systems with their odd array of perfectly straight lines and sharp angles, walls made of unknown alloys, and an atmosphere that was dry and slightly uncomfortably warm.

Klynt stood near the entrance, watching the outside with a baleful eye. Ryss crossed her arms and leaned against a wall to wait while Zoissette slowly paced and looked around the space. Nyx walked to one of the consoles with its half sphere control interface and placed her hands upon it. It came to life with glowing lights and a gentle hum, and Nyx picked at several of the holographic displays.

"Acquiring access privileges. Taking local control. Subsuming protocols. Entering direct mode," said Nyx, who then suddenly locked up and went stiff while standing at the console.

"Uhm," said Ryss.

"Control established," said Nyx, only their voice did not come from their body, but rather, from the facility itself. "Scanning."

"That is passing weird," said Ryss, and Klynt barked a laugh.

"You get used to them," said Zoissette.

"Vauban. I am activating a map on one of the monitors. I believe I have located the entity, as well as secondary evidence to suggest what areas they have been frequenting."

Zoissette walked over to the monitor to look, tapping a finger to her lips. Ryss hovered behind them.

"Nyx. That building. It has multiple entrances. Can you secure them?"

"Yes."

"Okay. I have a plan," said Zoissette, turning to Ryss. "Klynt, you will stay here, protect the control room and protect Nyx. Her control of the security systems in this sector is paramount. Nyx, secure the two entrances I am about to highlight, leave these other two open. We go in, and confirm that the entity is there. Once confirmed, we close the entrance we came in, and make for the other one - have Dark bring the airship to a landing nearby and meet us there, but have her stay onboard, ready to bug out should this go poorly. I suspect that whatever it is may be intelligent - let it think it has trapped us. We stall it until the team arrives to give us backup, then mount a counter offensive."

Ryss looked at Zoissette. "...risky." She did not bother to point out that Zoissette was, arguably, still in recovery.

Zoissette shook her head. "We got lucky to catch up to her here. We cannot risk letting her get loose and run elsewhere. We may not be able to predict her future movements."

Ryss frowned, but after a moment, nodded.

"Good luck," said Klynt.

Dark was raised on the comms, and Ryss and Zoissette made their way carefully to one of the large abandoned specimen rooms where Nyx had thought the entity to be. Now, Ryss had Glitterdust summoned, and the little fairy flitted along with them. All of them kept an eye out as they approached the entrance to the underground Allagan facility. Ryss noted that Zoissette was no longer glancing off at things she could not see.

If the entity had been keeping an eye on them, it may have retreated and was no longer watching them closely, she surmised.

The inside of the specimen facility was dark and quiet. Large tubes made of transparent green glass, none of them intact, were scattered throughout the place. Many of them still had some kind of bioluminescent liquid in the bottom that glowed faintly in a way that somehow made it harder to see, the light casting confusing shadows and being too dim to provide guidance but also too bright for the eye to adapt to a natural night vision. Ryss and Zoissette swept their gazes about, as they slowly made their way in between gutted consoles and the detritus of a fallen civilization.

"How certain are we about Nyx's analysis?" asked Ryss quietly.

"Reasonably," responded Zoissette. "Even if you ignore their expanded repertoire of senses, did you see the highlights on the map? The system has been tracking unusual activity. Something has been acting as a predator. A newer one than the - hmn?"

Zoissette suddenly spun in place, and Ryss glanced over at her.

"...I think I see it too," said Zoissette.

Ryss felt a sudden pulse of alarm from Glitterdust. Before she could say anything, though, Zoissette had shoved her to one side, and a blade whipped through the darkness, neatly through the area they had once been. It retracted just as fast, with a whip-snap motion that was hard to track.

She felt resolve from Glitterdust. That would not be allowed to happen again. But they were still in the dark, still just the two of them, and this was the part of the plan where they ran. She quickly looked around to try to find Zoissette, and was surprised to see her friend already a good distance away, gunblade up, facing where the blade had come from, and waiting for Ryss.

"Come on! Time to go!" said Zoissette.

Ryss was not at all sure how Zoissette had crossed the distance so fast, but the time for questions could come later. She quickly ran to catch up to her, a hand going to her linkpearl as she moved.

"Nyx, lock the place down," said Ryss. "Where's the other team?"

Nyx's voice came back, flat and calm as doldrums on the sea. "They have landed and are making their entrance now. Locking area down."

Zoissette waited for Ryss, waiting for another attack. Another blade whipped out, and she was quick to deflect it with her gunblade, away from them, grunting with the exertion of doing so. Ryss ran past her, and she turned and followed quickly.

There was an unsettling sound behind them, like a dozen dozen blades all being run across a dozen dozen whetstones, sharpening, honing their edges to fine lethality.

Ryss decided she would prefer to not find out exactly how sharp without catching up to the group first and making sure they would be safe. She felt a heat in her chest, as Glitterdust began to pour aether into her, quicking her heart and strengthening her arm.

She was a Nymian Marine, and when they met the group, she would be ready to make her stand.

The team Erick and Dark had assembled was waiting. Ryss knew them well. Meya, a relief, an experienced healer she trusted. Riven, master of elements, who would be able to bring significant power to bear. Minti in a dancer's outfit, sure to be fast and nimble, welcome supporting fire and flamboyant distractions to hopefully dazzle the entity with. Violet, well, Violet was a bit of a wild card, but reliable in her own way.

Ryss turned, axe out. Glitterdust hovered nearby.

"Okay, stick to the plan, but be careful, do not go in full hard" said Zoissette. "I have a hunch-"

There was that sound again. Ryss found it to be uncomfortably close.

"Maybe we can save full explanations for later," said Ryss.

"Right," said Zoissette. "Heavies, to the front, keep the entity pinned down, but be prepared to fade back quickly to protect support. Picket, go for targets of opportunity and soft spots, but most importantly, keep yourselves safe, hit and fade. Support, stand back and keep us alive."

Zoissette snapped two cartridges into her gunblade and readied it as Violet came to stand on one side of Ryss and Zoissette stood on the other.

"Prepare for contact."

[paper-poppy]

Stamp

The red hue, the sharp corners of the beautiful crystal, a clear style of Rella's. It was cradled inside the woven basket. It's memories and secrets waiting to spill out.

Walking up the steps with a bounce in his pace Emil opened the door to his aunt's home. Ready to be away from the tension in his own house he stared at the new stack of books on the table. 

Opening the cover nonchalantly and letting the pages flip closed his magenta eyes tracking the slight movements of the wispy nature of the pages. Attracted to the pastry's scent he smiled and set the basket down.

“One bunch of Roland berries, successfully delivered by yours truly!”, he grinned wide feeling proud of himself.

“As always, I can count on you.”, smiling faintly as she walked over and examined the berries. They had a different hue from the usual variety. Bursting with flavor she offered a thumbs up. 

“Passed the test Emil, these will certainly be great for the Roland berry jam for the croissants.”, her eyes then caught sight of the red crystal.

—---

Xiela curled up in bed, wrapping her arms around herself. 

“I don't think I can keep you hidden anymore..”, she whispered quietly.

Thinking back to the defining moment when she could no longer blame her anxiety and worry and decided to find out for sure.

The moment she confirmed her fears.. seeing the plus sign stamp on the tool. Congratulating her of her deceit and rewarding her with a slap to the face. 

She could have maybe gotten away with it by explaining and it would have been fine. But now? Now? 

‘Why did you wait until now? Were you ever going to tell me??’

Imagining him speaking coldly to her and saying it over and over, the doubt kept building in her mind. Overwhelming waves of doubt were too much for her now.

That night was a haze for her, but one thing she did remember was ugly. Pushing the ugliness out of her mind she thought back to the memory crystal. It had the entire record on there. 

Shame filled her mind, she would rather die than let G’raha know what she had done to him. She needed to destroy it. He didn't need to know the full details. 

Feeling the need to rid the world of any account of her acts she rushed down the stairs and ran out the backdoor. 

Pushing past the garden gate and feeling her shoes get trudged down in the recently watered plot she dug into the ground. 

Feelings of dread slammed into her, her brain feeling static. Digging further and around the area. 

‘No,nonononono-’, her breathing was coming out weak and dizziness drained her, bringing her to her knees on the wet dirt.

—--

“Yeah I found this.. do you know what it has on it?”, Emil walked over and handed the crystal to Rella. 

Reaching out to meet him halfway, She flinched instantly, reconciling slightly. Letting the crystal clink to the ground.

“Oh oops sorry!-”, grabbing it off the floor, Emil went to pick it up.

Feeling sick and disgusted, Rella put on a faint smile to cover what she just saw. The crystal had revealed all the record, the history and the emotions of said individual. In a single moment she had witnessed it all.

Truthfully, it had been such a long time ago for her, she did remember wondering when she would catch up to those events all those years ago. 

However, this was entirely not what she had expected. 

Xiela had snatched the crystal before returning back to her original time, without a goodbye to Rella. Despite her firm warnings to return the crystal once she was to go back home. 

Now Rella knew why.

“It's fine Emil, just set it on the table there, okay?” 

[justagalwhowrites]

“This one shouldn’t fuckin’ jam on you,” he said, a thread of pain in his voice. You looked up at him. His face was hard. You reached out to touch him but he stepped back from you. “Let me see how you shoot it.” 

It felt oddly exposing, setting up to shoot a target with Joel’s eyes on you, examining everything you were doing. It was harder to think straight this way, the feeling of his gaze seeping into your stance. 

You swallowed, hard, and shot. The bullet went wide, landing on the hay bale that Bill had set up at one point in time to practice. 

“Here,” Joel came up behind you. “Both hands.”

He guided your grip on the weapon and adjusted your arms. 

“Open your stance up a bit”

He nudged your feet apart, putting his leg between your own. You could feel him there behind you. He smelled good, freshly showered, his hair slicked back. Your first instinct was to bury your nose in his neck and breathe him in, fill your lungs and blood with him until there was nowhere else left for him to go.

“Keep both eyes open, don’t squint.” 

He kept his hands below your biceps. You took a shaky breath. 

“Don’t be nervous,” he said. “Just a target.” 

“Not nervous,” you muttered. 

“Feel nervous.”

“You just don’t know how I feel anymore,” you said before thinking better of it.

He laughed once.

“Guess not. When you’re ready.” 

alright bestie we all knew this was coming lmfao

here is the lavender moment that i would love to get a joel pov or joel thoughts or literally anything you wanna talk about lol

LOVE YOU AND ALL YOUR JOELS SO MUCH

lavender joel more than most tho

AHHH BESTIE!

DIRECTOR'S COMMENTARY TIME!

OK SO

This is such a great moment to me, it's kind of the foundation for this new journey for Joel and Doc. Their relationship is in a totally different space than it's ever been before. For a decade and a half, it was all on Joel's terms. He was the one who decided they couldn't be together, he was the one who decided he didn't want to even know her anymore, he was the one who decided who they were to each other and Doc tried to live within that standard without being in too much pain and not hurting him.

But, after the Andrew incident outside the QZ, things changed. Joel had been wearing down for a while - trying to emotionally disentangle yourself from the love of your life when they haven't done anything wrong and would take you back in an instant if you even glanced in their direction will do that to you - but so had Doc. There was only so much she could take from him before it broke her and he'd pushed her to that point. By this time in the story, she still loves him - she's resigned herself to always being in love with him - but has washed her hands of him as much as someone can while being in love with someone else. She's done pursuing a connection with him, she's done holding out any kind of hope and she's decided that she's not going to just let him use her because that's what she thinks their relationship has been for him all this time. That she was convenient, something he could have when he wanted and put down when he was done over and over again (which honestly hurts to think about, she loved him so much that, for so long, she was fine with that as long as he just picked her back up again.) She still cares for him, she still wants him to be OK and be happy and healthy but she is no longer wishing/hoping/trying for it to be with her. So when Joel - who is finally caving to his feelings after some sheer panic of "Oh my God what if I never see her again" - starts trying to show her care of any kind, she backs away from it.

Joel here is coming as close as he can to saying "I can't handle losing you, let me give you the tools you need to survive" and she's trying to keep her distance. Joel really does not know how to navigate that. He also doesn't know how to navigate his own feelings and he's starting to realize - pretty fast and pretty intensely - that he's wasted 15 years of their lives pushing her away. He could have been with her that whole time and instead he made them both miserable. He's in his reckoning now and I love that for him.

I hope this gives you some insight!! Love you!!!!!

[hxpelessnurse]

"Mikan, I require your assistance, now." If the lack of theatrics didn't speak to the importance of the situation as the infirmary doors were all but kicked open, the panicked look on Gundham's face certainly would. One arm was held close to his chest, it being the usual bandaged one that was once again freshly bloodied and in need of a wrapping from what could seen of it. Instead of giving over his arm however, he handed over the bundle of his scarf protectively clutched to his chest with his other, though it was no less bloody.

"I will spare you the details, one of such a weak constitution has no hope of surviving such a tale." That being said, he was looking rather unwell himself as he set the bundle down on the nearest cot, the small fuzzy face of a rabbit being partially revealed with the slow twitching of it's nose. "She has lacerations to her left foreleg, which may also be broken. I was unable to assess the true extent of the damage thanks to my own injuries." Said injuries that remained hidden within his coat as he carefully opened the bundle with his free hand, his fingers gently stroking the fur of the rabbit along with a soft coo of encouragement. "It will be alright, dear heart. We will make this better, I promise."

Turning back to Mikan now, Gundham continued to pet the tiny white bunny, it's breathing fast, yet shallow with the pain it was in. "I know you specialize in the care of mortals, but I haven't the time nor the skills to care for this injury myself with only one hand available to me." There was no overlord to be found in the room now, only a scared teenager that looked to the nurse with desperation. "Help her, I beg of you." //been meaning to throw gundham your way uwu

The nurse was not used to the lack of Gundham's theatrics. In fact, it almost felt like he was a completely different person when he wasn't playing up the Dark Overlord persona. She stared blankly at him for a few moments, blinking slowly as she processed just what exactly she was looking at. The bundle of scarf and rabbit placed onto the cot made her gasp and panic. She wasn't a veterinarian, but any hurt creature was a concern in her eyes.

"Wh-what?! H-How did she get this fracture?!" She asked, nervously bouncing on her toes as she scrambled around the room, looking for the supplies she might need. "I... I dunno if I c-can fix it! I've never performed f-first aid on an animal b-before..."

Despite her protest, she'd already gathered all the supplies she would need. Gundham's injuries would have to wait, though they did concern her too. Something told her he'd done something a little reckless to save the small bunny from a horrible death. She laid out all her tools and supplies before quickly, but gently, unwrapping the rabbit's leg.

"I'll... I'll d-do my best!" Mikan declared, snapping on a pair of nitrile gloves and leaning over the terrified creature. She gently began to examine the wound and prep the large gash for stitches. She'd need to splint the leg and cast it as well.

"Uhm... G-Gundham," she began as she pulled out a tongue depressor to use as a makeshift splint. "Wh-while I work on your bunny, p-please use the sink over there to start w-washing your own wounds... Use the antibacterial soap and rinse w-well, please," she instructed.

@the-ultimate-muses

[fishermcn]

Perhaps Soot has already grown accustomed to the stony silence of the hunter, even in the meager few minutes that had passed since his coarse proposal and their exchanging of gold coins. Perhaps the unkempt man is simply too preoccupied with the time-honored task of quickly but thoroughly examining each tool or implement those stained hands of his unerringly find and stow away to notice the object of her attentions. Whatever the case may be, Soot stiffens at the sudden breaching of the quiet done by her question, long fingers nearly wrapped around one of those very same bombs but stilling as he spares the hunter a confused and somewhat irritated look.

"What?" Those flinty eyes narrow in then on his bomb held now in her hands, and nearly a dozen different emotions smash the relative stone of his gaze as they widen. Half of them are variations of alarm and concern, but by the furrow of his brow and the sudden set of his jaw he's chosen instead to grasp for the other, more incendiary feelings that likewise lurk there. "Reckon ya might've knew better, not pickin' up any old thing lyin' around. Maybe ya ain't half so keen as I figured." Oh, but there's a fire seemingly stoked now in Soot's belly, and it seems as though the staggering difference in both stature and temperament are no longer a matter of concern given the way in which he stomps over and bares his teeth up at her for another remark.

Then that now cutting gaze flickers from her expression to her calloused hands, to the scars lining them, and whatever he might have intended to fling at her face is extinguished on his tongue. A stained thumb brushes over a small burn just on the outside of a pointer finger as though without thought as those now calmer eyes trace the similar shapes fire-etched into her darker skin, and Soot lets a rattling breath slip from between his teeth with a weary sigh.

"Aye, I do. Though ya might've asked first." There's no true bite to the remark compared to the fangs he'd seemed keen to sink into her moments prior. His gaze settles on just how carefully she's holding the bomb, his nose twitches as though recognizing a familiar scent, and the already thinning thunderhead of hostility is snuffed out entirely in favor of surprise, then blatant curiosity alighting on his gaunt features. "Thought I were th'only one. Strange chance, meeting someone who knows their way 'round black powder'n fuses."

In the light of this recognition, in the loosening of a tension to his person that seemed almost a permanent fixture, it's plain he has more than a single question in return for the hunter regarding their shared craft. Yet whatever Soot might've asked is silenced by a rolling peal of thunder so fierce it shakes the tavern, and when he blinks and shakes his head that cool composure has once more slipped back firmly into place.

"Should get a move on." Carefully, carefully, Soot plucks the bomb from her hand and places it back onto the makeshift workbench he's turned a once dull table into. "Got what I needed. Reckon now we go'n fetch them things o'yours."

STORMY EYES ROAM THE length of her. She welcomes them. One must know what they are paying for, and it’s a pretty sum he has to give for her obedience. Alizebeth takes in his scrutiny without pride and without shame. She knows precisely what she is; sharp, well-trained, a blade to be pointed at evil. He looks without shame, too, only a hint of discomfort as his neck craned to follow her when she rose. His face tapers to a fine point under his straw hair, flashing with thoughts as momentary as the crackle of lightning that batters the village.  She doesn’t bother guessing at what those thoughts are. She doesn’t care.

His inspection does not find her wanting. To the room, then. She trails the stranger like a hound through the cramped tavern, wide frame and long strides parting the crowd effortlessly. Her gaze is fixed on his shabby hat, following its sagged point through to the halls upstairs. The wood creaks under the weight of her armor. There a certain ease returns to her, mindless of the skittering vermin. She shivers as if to shake off the discomfort and noise of the lower floor. Now that the cacophony in her ears has dulled, the smell of wet leather and ale abated, she can attune her senses to him more closely. His voice is ragged, weak. His steps are quiet, trinkets clinking in the pockets of his frayed clothes. Behind it all is that familiar scent, sharp and acrid; black powder. Good. She thinks she could track him blind.

Rituals and riverbends, her employer mentions. Sounds more like the work of Men than her usual quarry. Still, she listens intently; know thine enemy, they say, and she isn’t about to let her employer’s knowledge on the subject of their strange prey fall on deaf ears. It worries her, relying on a stranger, putting her life on a line she can’t quite make out. In her mind a dozen creatures of the sea dwell, their traits, habits and weaknesses as natural to her as to be instinct. None of them seem to be the culprits of these particular doings. He opens the door at the end of the dusty hall.

Alizebeth lingers in the shoddy doorway, amber eyes surveying the mess inside. Everywhere there are vials, pouches and satchels. He moves through it like a snake in the grass, as though he can see through leather bags and linen precisely what he’s looking for. When Soot turns to hand her the jar of beeswax the hunter steps in, two strides of her long legs enough to close the distance in the small, dingy quarters. This time, his words go unheard. She doesn’t look at him as she places the beeswax in the satchel hanging at the small of her back, one gauntleted hand running the length of the rickety table and the collection of scrap metal, knicknacks, tools and other paraphernalia atop it. She carefully picks up one of the bombs stashed at the corner, holds it up to the gray light that shines weakly through a dirty window. Smaller than her own, with a short fuse. He must know what he’s doing, or else he would be dead.

“ You make these? ”

[emyluwinter]

Yuu repairman 1 part

Because of the introduction of the function of the room, I now can't get rid of the idea that Yuu and Grim have BECOME REALLY JACK-OF-ALL-TRADES.

Complicated cleaning with budget funds? - They know what to do. Need to assemble furniture? - they're on their way to get the tools. Something to fix from a simple technique? - they are already looking for an instruction manual or instruction manual to find out what the reason is.

Yuu is a girl here. Sorry, it's easier for me to write this way.

One evening, Cater watches as Yuu waits for Ace and Deuce while they change clothes and tidy up after taking care of the flamingos and the garden. A third-year student was trying to cope with his personal laptop trying to finish one study project. But his laptop often started making nasty noises, as if he was trying to take off on the ventilation system.

-Cater your laptop is making so much noise. - Yuu noticed after looking at the guy.

-Oh, yes…this is some kind of nightmare, no matter how much I reboot it or clean it of unnecessary files, it continues to make so much noise. But I can't give it for repair now, I need to finish the project. - He complained, sighing heavily and lowering his shoulders already and not knowing what to do about it.

-Did you clean it from dust? Yuu suddenly asked, looking at the laptop in Diamond's hands with interest.

He blinked once. Then tried to understand the question and blinked twice more. Cater was quite puzzled by this question from the first-year student. Of course, he is not a specialist, but he definitely has not heard such questions.

-Dust. It accumulates in the ventilation system, on the coolers themselves for cooling… - realizing that her words don't really give a clear picture for understanding Yuu decides to explain easy.

-Well, to put it simply, there are one or more fans inside and they can start making noise due to the fact that a lot of dust has accumulated on them. And the laptop may have overheating because of this…you didn't give it away for cleaning?

-I didn't know about it…..um… - He suddenly felt so embarrassed that he had never cleaned his laptop since the purchase, and the deadline was definitely longer than he is studying in college.

-Can you do it? - Since the Prefect suggested it, then why shouldn't she do it! And the laptop will be cleaned and Cater will have time to hand over the project on time!

-Well, I don't have any suitable tools with me, like a can of compressed air to blow through the laptop. Oh, maybe I can remove most of it with brushes and tweezers…

Yuu took out her big backpack and after digging in it, she took out a small set of tools that she could always take with her, and which she needed from time to time.

After clearing the coffee table of every little thing, Diamond hurried to save all his projects and turn off the laptop, watching Yuu with interest. And of course he started taking photos for Magikame. Something useful and simple could attract new followers!

Closing the backpack and putting the tool kit and laptop on the coffee table, Yuu carefully examined the laptop from all sides.

-Hey, Prefect-Repairman, tell me what are you doing? - With the curiosity of a child, Diamond couldn't take his eyes off what Yuu was doing.

Taking a table lamp and placing it at the angle she needed, Yuu took out a screwdriver set.

-I'm looking at where the screws holding the main body and the lid are. They are different on different models…And I take a phillips screwdriver. By the way, it's on a magnet, which means the screw won't escape if suddenly my hands start shaking..

Taking out a small napkin, Yuu quickly began to wield a small screwdriver, Cater even thought that it was a manicure set because the tools were small and neat in his opinion. On a napkin, Yuu laid out each cog in the same order where they were located. A few screws in the middle, three more on the sides. And four more were the longest compared to the others.

-And then I take a flat screwdriver and look for where I can open the case. - After a little tinkering with the case, Yuu opens the lid from the bottom of the laptop. Diamond was horrified when he saw how much dust and dirt were inside his laptop!!As if the equipment was dipped in the sands of Scarabia and left somewhere in the attic of Onboro!!

-Yayk! And all this was inside?! - the third-year student exclaimed in amazement, trying to examine at least something inside.

-Yeaaaaah..It's still more neglected than I thought. - Yuu smiled awkwardly and took disposable medical gloves and a mask from her backpack. Still, she didn't really want to inhale all this dirt.

-Can you please open the windows so that the room is ventilated while I clean everything? And a trash can with newspapers that you can throw away…there will be a lot of work.

-Huh, have I become your little helper? Okay, okay, Key will do it~

***

Diamond watched with great interest and delight as Yuu painstakingly and very carefully removed large clumps of dust and dirt on a small piece of newspaper with tweezers, and then cleaned the remaining ones with a large brush. After about 15 minutes, Cater was even able to see what his laptop looks like from the inside!

-Yuu, do you know what, where, is?

-Well, in theory…these two fans are the cooler or the cooling system of the laptop itself. That's a big this… - Yuu tilted her head, puzzled, trying to remember what it could be.

- The motherboard?Like her, but like this..the memory of the laptop itself?You'd better ask Ortho or someone from Ignihide, I'm not that good at this.

Recognizing her inexperience, Yuu carefully examined every millimeter in the laptop, removing almost every speck.

-He practically glitters from your work. - Diamond grinned and sighed dreamily. - Oh, I would love to have a girl who understands repair and technology..

-Didn't you say that you have a Deuce for these cases? - the Prefect immediately interrupted, looking at the guy in disbelief.

-Well…Yeaaaah, he's good, I don't argue. But his tactic is "to see what's inside and hit harder will suddenly work." And you have a more subtle job. - Cater giggled awkwardly, remembering how Deuce tried to fix something and it didn't end well…

-Listen Yuu, wouldn't you like to meet me?You're with golden hands, so reliable - Diamond asked jokingly, watching the reaction of the first-year student with interest.

-Speaking of which…we haven't discussed my fee. - Leaving her work, Yuu looked expectantly at the red-haired man, waiting for his suggestions.

-Eh?Payment?!

-And you thought I was doing all this for free?! - Yuu was surprised and immediately grabbed a piece of newspaper into which she collected all the garbage and dust with dirt, intending to pour it all back.

-No, no, no!!Stop!! Okay, okay!Let me think!- Cater barely managed to stop her, waving his hands negatively and trying to persuade her to an acceptable price.

Still holding the trash dangerously close to the laptop, Yuu patiently looked at Diamond, who was feverishly coming up with what he could offer for it and not be left without money.

-How about a date and a photo report for Magikame? I know a nice cafe! What do you say?

-Dress code?

-You dress in the cutest way imaginable~ I can ask the guys from the movie club to borrow some of the outfits.It would be great if you put on a dress or a cool suit!

-Heels?Makeup?

-Not necessarily. I think soft colors will do.

-Okay, but you're paying for everything. I still need to go get a screwdriver and attachments for it. Ah still need to take the construction level.

-Why did you so abruptly turn the topic to what you need something to repair…

-Have you seen the conditions in which Grimm and I live, and you still ask?

-……. yes….sorry…

***

When the cleaning was finished and Yuu put the laptop back together. Diamond looked at him with some apprehension for a few seconds before pressing the power button.

After waiting a bit, Cater saw the boot screen and his laptop made a barely audible sound just like when he bought it.

-It worked!!Oh Yuu you're just a miracle!!Thanks!! Eh?What are you doing?

Meanwhile, Yuu takes out a piece of paper from his notebook and hands it to the elder.

-A receipt that you will pay me for the work later.

He couldn't believe his eyes when he really saw the receipt. And correctly designed on all points!!

-…..Yuu….

-Yes?

-I'm asking you with the whole great seven….Stop talking to Azul….He's a bad influence on you.

-Hey!

[dr-spencer-reids-queen]

Identity: Final Part

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~2.4k

Warnings: canon violence, canon language, canon talk of death, methods of kill

Author’s Note: I do not own anything from Criminal Minds. All credit goes to their respective owners. If there is any warnings that exceed the normal death/kills from the show, I will list them. If you’ve seen the show, then it’s the same level of angst unless otherwise stated

Will and his officers head over to the rose bushes with shovels and dig them up, finding four more victims. Each of them is in different decomposition stages much like the flowers. The body that decomposed the most has the flowers that developed the longest. Francis or his partner would plant roses when he'd bury the bodies. You look up and see the other three women mist away as well, finding peace like the women before them.

Will's team leaves the house, announcing it's safe to go in, and they head over to the rose bushes to examine each body. Will's team has this to do, so your team heads inside the house. You're the last one inside, and a tear slips out at all the trauma associated with this house.

"They didn't find any explosives and nothing is rigged, but be careful," Will warns as he leaves.

"Hotch? These tapes have the names of the missing women," Rossi says, holding up a box of tapes. "They've all been unspooled."

"We need to get these to Garcia immediately."

You head into the kitchen where Spencer and Emily are, and when Spencer sees you in distress, he drops whatever he is holding and walks over to you.

"Are you okay?"

"No," you whisper.

Emily holds up a list she found on the refrigerator, reading it out loud.

"One, all actions must serve to please the master. Two, insubordination will result in punishment... This is his new manifesto."

"Notice the 'master' is singular and capitalized, emphasizing there's only one dominant partner."

"So, his partner is more of a servant or a serf, always watching the house and helping him abduct women."

"Okay, so if his partner is a serf, what are the female slaves for?" Emily asks, setting down the piece of paper.

"Oh, I think I can answer that," Rossi butts in, gesturing for everyone to follow him.

You walk into the back bedroom where the bed is flipped on its side so that you can see the underside of the mattress. On it are torture devices that Francis would use to hold the women so they couldn't fight back. It hurts to see this, so you have to turn away to protect your own heart.

"Now we know why the victims were taken so far apart. They tortured them. It took time for them to die."

A tear slips out of your eyes at Spencer's words.

"Homemade torture tools. They covered the floor in something. The bodies are probably wrapped in whatever it was. They must have kept these women for months. Judging by these tools, there will be a considerable amount of mutilation. We need to do what we can to help their families give a proper burial."

You know enough about Francis' partner to give a proper profile, so you opted to do that right away so you can get out of this hellhole. From what you found, you concluded that Goehring's partner is early to mid-twenties, 5'8", and has a slight build. He's shy and retiring, but groomed by a separatist armed with assault weaponry.

Like Goehring, he's unlikely to surrender if he's cornered. His obsession with cleanliness and order is deeply ingrained. This will be reflected in his home and his vehicle. You've located hair samples in the cabin you believe are his, which are medium-short length and blonde. He's the submissive partner, but having just lost Goehring, the man he was dedicated to and heavily dependent upon, he's in crisis.

Penelope didn't get anything off the videos either, and you could tell she was hurt by seeing them. You really wish things could be better for her. She hates seeing victims helpless as they are tortured, but she has to watch them in case something is embedded in the video or if she can spot something no one else would see.

You feel for her.

You've seen the videos yourself, and it breaks your heart to see these women in such pain.

"That is Jennifer Hillbridge, the second woman abducted," JJ says as she watches one of the videos.

"The cameraman frames Goehring but never her. Watch. He never stays on her that long." He's right. The camera focuses on Francis almost the entire time. It's like this partner doesn't care about the women, but about Francis. "He's more interested in Goehring than the torture. He's lingering on his biceps like he's caressing Goehring's body."

"Why the hell?" Will mutters.

"He's in love with Francis. He unspooled the tapes because he was jealous. It would be part of his servitude to clean his house, help abduct girls, bury the bodies, get supplies, and plant the roses." A realization came over you at that moment. "He had to buy roses, and a lot of them. There has to be a record of that."

"Let's get to the flower shops."

Half your team went out to different local flower shops giving out the description of what you think the partner may look like and his behavior. You thought nothing would come up until you found a clerk who knew what you were talking about. A guy named Henry Frost who works at one of the flower shops fits that exact description, and you finally have an address.

The first thing you notice when you get there is that he's the complete opposite of Francis. Francis was organized and neat, but Henry is a complete mess and doesn't care about being organized. His house proves that.

"He's destroyed everything he owns. He has no identity. He burned his face off his pictures. A submissive depends upon a dominant partner not only for instruction but for purpose and meaning."

"So, he's starting over and wiping the slate clean. Question is, as what?"

Right as you were done at his house, you got a call that a kidnapping took place at a local gas station. The woman tried to fight off her attacker, but wasn't able to get away. The attendant did get a good look at whoever did it. Someone matching Francis' picture kidnapped a woman as she was getting gas for her car. He had a huge bandage on the left side of his face, and you can only assume that he was trying to make himself look like his dominant partner.

The whole ruse that both men had to play is that Henry would drive Francis around until he saw a woman he liked. Francis would kidnap the woman and use her own car to drive while Henry would follow in the car he was driving around in. With Francis gone, Henry has to play both sides, and it's already not working out for him since he left his pickup car at the gas station.

Henry was a troubled gay man looking for Francis to dominate him. Francis gave Henry purpose and a reason to do what he did. When Francis killed himself, Henry lost sight of who he was because he was tied to Francis. Henry is a classic case of Depersonalization Disorder by losing a loved one. His mind is playing both cards, and all that's left is Henry's version of Francis.

If you're going to catch Henry and save that woman, you have to stop thinking like Henry and start thinking like Francis.

"Sheriff, he's taken on Goehring's persona. We have to assume he's going to behave the same way. He's heavily armed, and he's committed to his cause. If he's caught, he's not only willing to die but to take as many of us with him as possible. He's got a hostage, which means I'm going to need the best sharpshooter you've got," Hotch says to Will.

"That's fine, but we don't even know where this guy's headed."

"The team's been working the profile, and we think we've got something."

"In the tapes, Goehring makes several mentions of 'ideal land'. He also said that 'lords live on higher ground to better surveil the land and spot invaders'. He studied medieval defense strategies, so he'll probably go to a place where he can protect himself. High ground and easily defendable. This picture was on Goehring's fridge. Do you know where that is?"

Emily hands over a picture she found, and Will recognizes it immediately.

"That's Black Eagle Peak. Militia groups used to use it for training drills till the state stopped them."

"Hotch, I think it's best if I'm one of the sharpshooters. I can take the shot. Remember that case where the unsub robbed banks and made everyone strip and forced people to have sex with each other? I shot his backpack while he escaped on a BMX bike. I can get Henry."

"Good. Gear up."

You gear up with the rest of the SWAT team members who are assisting your team on the case. When you get there, you can already feel the dissociation coming from Henry and the panic coming from the woman. You check your gun for the fourth time now, making sure everything is where it's supposed to be.

"My guys also have eyes on him. He's on the very top of the peak on the far side of that ridge. He'll see us coming," Will says.

"He already knows if he's using that police scanner. We have to find a way to get up there," Derek says.

"We'll never be able to get close enough. How's it going with the other sharpshooter?"

Before anyone can answer him, a car pulls up to the group, and the man who Derek went to see at the bar steps out.

"Oh, you can't be serious," Derek sighs.

"You asked for the best. He's it. Ex-Special forces sniper."

"He's a civilian."

"He's militia. I deputized him. He knows the terrain like nobody else."

"The wind in this valley will change the trajectory of a shot by inches. If you can't read the wind, the wrong person might get shot. I guess I don't need to remind you gentleman of that," the man scoffs.

"It might not come down to it If we don't get moving. I'll go with him," Rossi offers.

"You want to flank around the west side of the mountain?" Will asks the man and he shakes his head.

"If he's on the north, I'll get a better view from the east ridge. It's steeper and is on higher ground. I'll get a clear shot from there."

"Y/N, go high and southwest. If you see the shot, call it. Channel 23. Keep it open. I'll go with the sheriff. We'll stay at the base and try to distract him. Morgan and Prentiss, go up to the northeast and through the middle. Keep your head down."

You check your rifle once more and look at Spencer in assurance. You nod, signaling that you can do this. You head up the southwest side of the mountain, finding a good spot to rest upon. The bar owner is right about the wind, but you have your abilities to help you much like last time. You aim your gun at Henry from the right side and line up your shot, but he has the woman in the way. His energy is all over the place and isn't stable, allowing you to see mere seconds into his future. You're able to see where he is going to be, and you're going to rely on this to help you take him down.

"Francis Goehring? Channel 2!" Hotch yells to him, allowing him to get on the channel so they don't have to yell. "All we want to do is talk to you. Let me know if you can hear me."

"Yeah, I can hear you. This is my land. Do you understand? Not yours and you will leave it or she dies."

"She's tucked in real tight. Too tight. I can't get the shot. You got to get him to move," the bar owner says into the radio.

"I can't get a shot either, Hotch," you say.

"How are we going to do that?" Will asks.

"He's not Goehring, Hotch, he can't do this. He may have shot Angela in the back, but he's spiraling fast."

"All I want to do is talk!" Hotch says into the radio.

"You want to talk? You go ahead and talk, but if you come any closer, she gets a bullet. Do you hear me? Huh? She's going to be the first to go. I swear!"

"We know a lot about you, Henry. We know your name is Henry Frost. We know you're twenty-five years old. We know that your dad kicked you out of the house when you were fifteen. He was a drunk and he abused and abandoned you. Ever since, your life has been a series of jails and institutions, and it's been hell."

"Shut up! No! Never let the bastards take you alive. Never be forgotten," Henry panics.

"If you have the shot, take it," Rossi orders. "Take the damn shot!"

"Henry, just let the girl go, and I'll clear everybody out. You and I can just talk. That's a promise. It doesn't have to end like this."

"Yes, it does! Yes, it does!"

Henry maneuvers the woman out of the way slightly, and you find your opening.

"Rossi, I can take the shot."

"Take it!"

You line up the shot where you know he will be a second from now. You pull the trigger, and the bullet goes between his eyes. The woman falls to the ground in a heap of sobs, and you lower the gun in relief. Henry is dead, and the woman is going to be okay.

To unwind from the case and bring yourself back to reality, the first thing you and Spencer do when you get home is to draw each other. You wouldn't say you're amazing, but you do alright, and Spencer has his own way of drawing that brings so much joy whenever you see them. They're conventionally ugly, but they're beautiful in your eyes.

You have your back on one end of the couch with your feet in the middle while Spencer has his back to the other end of the couch with his feet in the middle. Spencer's concentrated face is enough to make you giggle, and he looks up at you with a lopsided grin.

"Are you done?"

"Yes. Are you?"

"Almost." He puts the finishing touches on his drawing before setting down his colored pencil. "Okay, done."

"On three. One... Two... Three!"

You and Spencer both flip your drawings around at the same time. You bust out in giggles when you see his unsteady lines and small eyes. Spencer doesn't care if you're laughing at his drawing because at least you're laughing.

"I don't look like a wrinkly old grandma," you laugh.

"And I don't look like a pipe cleaner with eyes," he jokes, using the line of the manager from earlier.

"I love it," you grin, exchanging yours for his. He puts his off to the side and crawls on top of you, causing you to put yours on the coffee table. "I love you."

"I love you more."

"Not possible."

"Yes, possible," he whispers, leaning down to kiss you.

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[milliedazzledust]

I'll Come Back for You (Bucky Barnes imagine)

REQUEST: ANON - something where he is in winter soldier mode and protecting the scientist (y/n) where she is the only one who can sort of calm him down after a mission

ANON - winter soldier!bucky being protective over his scientist who’s forced to be take care of his health and she’s being kept there against his will too

ANON - Bucky Barnes request about how both reader and Bucky are each other support systems? It could be like a headcanon, how would the reader comfort him while how he comforts her so forth and so on

WORDS: 3506

A/N: So I don't know if I was inspired or if I just wrote too much, but I'm not sure this story's good. Anyway, feedback is really appreciated and I hope you'll like it :) (also don't forget to tell me if you want to be on my taglist ^^)

“What happened this time ?”

Her voice was only a whisper in the quiet room. The broken man silently sat on the examination table while she stuck a needle in his functioning arm. He didn’t speak, didn’t even flinch. This masquerade had started the moment she had set foot inside Hydra secret base. They had brought her against her will to take care of their most valuable soldier. It was always the same dance, rehearsed a million times since she had met him. After each mission, each murder, he’d come to her. She’d fix his physical wounds, take care of his arm and let him go.

More than often, she found herself feeling sorry for him. She knew what Hydra was doing to him, she’d heard the screams echoing in the distance. It would keep ringing in her ears for hours. Sometimes, the simple thought of picturing what he was going through was enough to bring her to tears. No one deserved to suffer this way.

The Winter Soldier was a cruel man, an assassin. She had seen him in action, had even been attacked the first time they were introduced. But despite being the necessary tool to take care of their valuable killer, she liked him. This wasn’t a place anyone could handle, not even him. And while she was aware of the danger Hydra represented, he was a different story. The man he once was had been trapped in a small corner of his mind, disconnected. His hands were his own, but his actions were dictated by an army that had invaded his head long ago. He was a machine turned on and off at will by the power of ten simple words.

“I was stabbed” Was his only answer. He didn’t give any detail, simply raised his shirt so she could inspect the injury.

“Do you feel any pain ?”

He blankly stared at an invisible point on the wall, avoiding looking at her. He was aware anyone could be listening.

“Soldier ?” She called him, stopping her movement and waiting for his response.

“I don’t feel anything” His voice was emotionless and a chill ran down her spine when he spoke. He was detached, impassive, a statue unaware he was capable of sentiment.

She cleared her throat, trying to stay focused on her task. She cleaned the wound, took his vitals, wrote down the conclusion of her examination and prepared what she needed to sew him up.

When she was about to administer the anesthetic, he suddenly grabbed her wrist. She caught her breath, frightened, but made no movement. For the first time that day, he turned his head to look at her. Whatever she saw in his eyes was enough to ease the tension in her shoulders and she relaxed.

“It’s okay” She whispered, a kind smile on her face. “This is propofol”

She knew he would recognize the name. She had spent countless hours explaining everything she was doing to him in detail so he wouldn’t be uncomfortable or scared. He was a super soldier that required extreme measures of treatment.

“No drugs,” He told her.

“You might regret that decision once I start to put the stitches in”

“I need to stay conscious,” He explicated, almost begging her. “Please”

She didn’t argue, only glanced at a camera behind her recording their interaction.

“Alright” She conceded. “I’ll switch to saline”

He nodded, grateful she wasn’t pushing. She turned her back carefully so her table was no longer in the camera’s field of view and he watched her emptying the needle and filling it with a harmless mixture of water and sodium chloride. Nothing that would put him to sleep.

“Have you ever been to Greece ?” She asked him out of the blue. He stared at her curiously. “I’ve always dreamed of visiting. It has the longest coastline in Europe, with so many islands between the blue Aegean Sea to the east, the Mediterranean Sea to the south, and the Ionian Sea to the west. Can you imagine how beautiful it must be ?”

She kept talking for a while about the country, the books she had read and the films she had seen about it. His eyes stayed on her the whole time, his head tilted to the side, wondering why she was telling him all this. Not that he minded, he loved listening to her. She had the power to calm him down. He was constantly on high alert, ready to fight whomever he was told to kill, prepared to endure whatever torture they had prepared, but this room and the woman inside were his only small moments of peace. Her voice was the music he desperately needed to sooth his soul.

“Why are you telling me this ?” He wondered out loud.

She smirked. “To take your mind somewhere else than here. Seems like it worked”

He glanced at his stomach and realized the stitches were already there. Too engrossed in her story, he hadn’t noticed or felt anything.

“How…”

“Funny how magical words can turn out to be, isn’t it ?”

She could swear she saw the flicker of an emotion on his face looking back between his wound and the woman, but just as quickly as it came, it was gone.

“Thank you, doc”

She hesitated a moment before gently taking his hand on her own.

“Be careful” She muttered. “There’s only so much I can fix”

“I will” He promised. “Are they … are they treating you right ?”

She shrugged. “If threatening to kill me is what you consider right, then I guess I’m a real princess in a castle”

He ran a jerky hand through his hair and seemed to be looking for the right words to say but never spoke.

“Can I ask …” She began, curiosity getting the best out of her. “What is your real name ?”

When his gaze fell on her, all she saw was pure panic. Her question, as simple as it may have been, had surprised him. He didn’t remember, didn’t even question anyone, because it hadn’t mattered. He didn’t need to be more than a ghost to be able to kill.

“I’m sorry” She apologized. “I shouldn’t have asked. I didn’t mean to…”

“I don’t know” He admitted.

She gulped and looked away. His eyes held too much confusion and despair. Coming face to face with the enormity that was this man’s fate was sometimes undeniably heartbreaking.

“Can I call you Winter, then ?” She suggested.

He seemed to ponder for a while before offering her a small smile. “Yes, yes I’d like that”

It hurt to see a glimpse of happiness on his face for something as simple as a name and the woman didn’t realize that what she had just given him was the shred of an identity. A tiny piece he would hold onto. He was living inside a nightmare he had no idea he was trapped into, and if she dared to help, she would pay it with her life. So all she had the power to do was give him a name. Make him feel alive again.

The next time she saw him was only a couple of days after, carried by two agents, head hanging low and barely conscious. His clothes were stained in blood and his metal arm seemed dislocated.

“Patch him up” One of the men coldly ordered. They dropped the injured soldier on the ground like he was nothing more than an object, not even human.

She rushed to his side, checking his pupils first with a flashlight to rule out any intracranial damage to his brain. She did the same on his chest with a stethoscope, searching for any potential life threatening injury. When she moved to his shoulder to inspect the metal bones, he regained consciousness. Maybe it was the sight of yet another scientist above him or the touch of her fingers on his skin, but the man was quick to react and got on his feet in no time. His human hand wrapped around her neck tightly and he pushed her body with force against a wall, choking her. She tried to speak, but the action had been so sudden and violent that she was unable to move a muscle. He was in a trance, eyes filled with hatred that she knew was not directed toward her. Whatever he was picturing in his mind had awakened the assassin. She was the threat and he was in a game of survival.

She whispered his name several times but it was only after a minute, when she was on the verge of passing out, that he seemed to realize what he was doing. He stared at her with wide open eyes and released her from his grip. Her body fell on the floor before she started coughing, struggling to catch her breath.

“I’m…” He tried to speak, looking down at his hands in horror.

“Water” She managed to whisper.

He brought the woman a bottle and tried to help her on her feet. When he reached for her, she involuntarily flinched. A pure reflex. She didn’t miss the sadness on his face as he recoiled from her.

“I didn’t mean…”

“I know. It’s alright”

“I could’ve killed you” He said it more to himself than to her.

“But you didn’t” She laid a hand on her chest, taking a deep breath to try and calm her heart rate. “What happened ?”

“You touched me,” He explained.

“I touch you all the time” When he smirked, she realized the double meaning behind what she had just said. “Hm … why would it be any different today ?” She immediately changed the subject.

“Usually, when I’m unconscious I can … sense them around me. Working on me. And I can’t move but I still feel the pain”

Once again she was at a loss of words against the heaviness that was the burden of his life.

“Are you sure you’re alright ?” He repeated almost in a childish voice.

“I’ll get over it, don’t worry” She tried to reassure him. It didn’t seem to work. He took a temptative step, making sure she wasn’t uncomfortable. He moved his hand toward her neck, deliberately going as slow as he could. His eyes stayed on hers, watching out for any sign of fear. “What are you doing ?” She said in a breath, a different kind of shiver rolling down her spine.

“I need to make sure I didn’t hurt you” The sincerity and concern she heard in his voice were unsettling. She stared back in disbelief, but didn’t move. This was the closest they had ever been and it almost felt unreal for both of them. Too good to be true, especially in a place of nightmare like this.

He tilted her head to the back, still looking at her, and softly brushed his thumb over her skin. A bruise was already starting to appear. She saw the change in his eyes, the regret and sadness when he lowered his gaze. He kept inspecting her from all angles possible, making her chuckle in the process.

“Are you done, doctor ?” She joked.

He tried not to smile but miserably failed. “Almost. Haven’t found a diagnosis yet”

This time she laughed.

“C’mon, I’m not the real patient here. I need to take a look at you” She glanced at his metal arm, still dislocated. He was avoiding using it and she had noticed.

He sighed but didn’t remove his hand from her neck. Instead, his thumb slowly reached her cheek and he gently stroked her skin.

“I wish I could get you out of here” He whispered. “You don’t deserve any of this”

“Neither do you”

He clenched his jaw and plastered a tight smile, refusing to acknowledge what she had just said. He lowered his arm and sat on the examination table without saying anything.

“I’m gonna … hm … I’m gonna need to cut your shirt open” She gulped, trying to keep her cheeks from getting any warmer.

The man smirked and grabbed a pair of scissors nearby that he handed to her. She took it but didn’t dare to look at him, too uncomfortable by the situation. As she cut his shirt higher and higher, her hands started to shake. He could see her shifting her weight from side to side and desperately avoiding any eye contact. She was embarrassed and he was enjoying every second of it.

When finally she had taken it carefully off his body, she huffed in frustration. There was no denying that he had beyond toned muscle structure, verged into defined and well built curves.

“Is it… is it alright if I touch you ?” She allowed herself to take a glance at him, and rolled her eyes when she saw the smirk on his face.

“More than alright, doc” He teased her.

The moment her hands came in contact with his skin, he involuntarily flexed his muscles. She took a sharp breath, trying not to lose focus when she cleaned his wounds. She looked up at him to make sure he wasn’t in any pain, only to realize he was already staring. What should have been a quick glance turned into something more, a moment that lasted a little too long. When he leaned in toward her, she suddenly seemed to notice the lack of space between them. She cleared her throat and took a step back.

“Quit flirting, Winter” She reprimanded him with a playful grin.

He laughed. It was the first time she heard that sound and she couldn’t help the giggle that escaped her mouth. He looked so carefree and alive, so human. She was finally meeting the man behind the assassin, and he troubled her even more than the silent killer.

“I kinda like to see you flustered, doc”

She ran a hand through her hair, trying to hide her obvious nervousness.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about” She pursed her lips to keep from smiling.

“Sure you don’t” He sniggered.

She rolled her eyes. “I’m gonna need to put that shoulder into place”

Instead of talking, he grabbed her hips and considerably shortened the distance she had put between them. Her eyes widened from both the sudden gesture and the feeling of his fingers on her body.

“Go right ahead, doc”

She leaned in toward him to have a better access to the injury, ignoring the unexpected shudder. She was practically over him, a hand on his shoulder, the other on his broad back. If he felt any pain when she pushed the bones back into place, he didn’t show.

“All good ?” He muttered, heavily breathing. She was about to ask if he was okay but the words stayed stuck when she realized how close their faces were. He wasn’t hurt, no, he was perturbed by her presence. He could smell her perfume and see the hair raising on her neck. Whatever he was feeling, she felt it too.

“Do I make you nervous, soldier ?” She said, a smile building on her full lips.

“You have no idea, doctor”

She turned to face him. They locked eyes and, for a moment, none of them moved. The atmosphere instantly changed when he bit his lips. He bent closer and closer, and this time she didn’t push back. When finally he kissed her, she froze in place. He was about to draw back when she grabbed his neck, deepening the kiss. A sensation she couldn’t comprehend took over her whole body. He didn’t rush, took his sweet time lingering his lips over hers. She could swore her knees would have given out if he wasn’t holding her in place. Her chest was fluttering and she lost all sense of time. He pulled back from the lack of oxygen, but not before caressing her mouth one last time.

“Too much?” He inquired quietly.

She shook her head, laughing. “No. Just enough”

“I’ve been dreaming of doing that for a while” He admitted.

“Quite the change of attitude. I could’ve sworn you wanted me dead only ten minutes ago” She joked.

He pouted, not particularly happy she was reminding him of his previous outburst.

“You’re all set up, Winter” She announced after one last look over his chest. “No major damage”

“Have you checked my heart ?” He joked with a smirk. “I think it’s beating a little fast”

She coughed to try and hide her laugh.

“I’m afraid that’s not fixable” She started to write her report, ignoring his lingering gaze on her. Her brain was still fuzzy from the kiss they shared. “Unless I stay away, which would probably ease your … discomfort”

“Who said anything about discomfort ? That’s a kind of pain I’d rather enjoy”

She raised an eyebrow, not missing the way her own heart palpitated.

“Don’t play with fire, soldier”

He smirked. “Between us, I’m trying to delay the moment I’ll have to go through that door again”

This time she lost all joy and raised her head from what she was writing on her report to look at him.

“You’re strong enough to leave this place, you know”

“Leave where ?” He asked.

“Somewhere you’ll find who you really are”

“Does that somewhere include you ? ‘Cause you should know I won’t go without you”

She walked up to him and took his hands.

“Save yourself while you still can, Winter” She sadly replied.

“What about you ?”

“I’m just … collateral damage” She exhaled.

He gently pressed his forehead to hers.

“I promise I’ll come back for you after that last mission”

“I’ll hold you onto that”

He planted a soft kiss on her lips, making her forget once again where they were and what their reality was.

“I’ll take you to Greece” He whispered. “Just the two of us. Wouldn’t that be great ?”

“It’s a date” She grinned, making him laugh.

“You’ve got yourself a deal. We’ll get out of here” He swore. “And I’ll take you dancing under the stars of Mykonos”

He didn’t know then that he would never have the occasion to keep that promise. They would have more moments, stolen from the chaos of this place, but nothing more. Weeks later, he would hear rumors about treason and compromising positions. He would understand too late they meant her. She was his weak point, and the Winter Soldier couldn’t have any weaknesses. She was disposable, he was an assassin with superpowers. All the recordings they had proved he no longer could be operational so long as she was still breathing.

“Buck, you alright ?” A voice suddenly spoke in the agonizing silence.

He turned around to his friend, brushing the tears he didn’t realize had started to fall. Standing in the empty room, he couldn’t move away from the dried patch of blood on the floor.

“Yeah, I just need a minute” He shook his head, trying to make the painful memories disappear.

The man behind him began to inspect the place, searching through scattered papers around a desk.

“Dr. Y/N Y/L/N” He read.

Bucky closed his eyes, clenching his jaw. The simple sound of her name was enough to widen the open wound inside his chest. He sat on the examination table one last time, without her. Forgetting he wasn’t alone, he let himself wander into his most precious memories. He remembered the taste of her lips, the smell of her perfume and the touch of her skin. Every detail engraved in his head forever.

“Did you know her ?” The person asked.

“Yeah”

The man stopped what he was doing and observed the former assassin for a solid minute. He looked heartbroken.

“Bad memories ?” He inquired.

“Not in this room” Bucky sadly smiled.

“What happened ?”

“I don’t want to talk about it, Steve”

The Captain hesitated for a moment but didn’t push. He was aware his friend was still healing and whatever the place was, it was part of his pain.

“Is she dead ?” He only questioned.

He gulped and tilted his head backward to keep the tears at bay. “They took her away from me” His voice cracked when he spoke. He was not able to stop the violent sob that escaped his mouth. He wanted to say so much more but the lump in his throat was far too heavy.

“I was too late,” He whispered. “I promised I’d come back for her but I was … too …”

His shoulders started to shake as tears ran down his bloodshot eyes. Steve rapidly closed the distance between them and hugged his friend, letting him express his sadness. They stayed there until he was calm enough to take a deep breath.

“You ready ?” The Captain inquired.

The broken soldier silently nodded.

“Where to now ?” Steve asked him. “You’re free to go anywhere you'd like”

“Greece. I have a date in Greece”

Taglist below the cut

@partypoisonsblog - @tylard-blog1

[lightsovermonaco]

Speed and Stress: Part 2

Masterlist

Thank you to @acollectionofficsandshit for betaing, your comments on this one were unhinged gold 

Word Count: 3.1k

Recommended Vibes: “Perfect Day” by Tundra Beats

Part 1

Your brother was late. Not that anyone was surprised.

“Got the time mixed up,” he says as you climb into his absurdly tall truck. Living in Texas for three years had turned him into somewhat of a country boy, though not enough that he forgot his upbringing. He was still a blue blooded Los Angeles boy, just with a love for trucks and longhorn cattle.

“At least I wasn’t waiting for an hour this time,” you say and sling your bag to the backseat. Deciding to get right to the good stuff, you clasp  your hands together. “So! I have some news.”

Hunter grins at you. “You finally found a job?”

You roll your eyes and shoot him a pointed look. “No, dipshit. Better than that. I got us paddock passes for the whole weekend.”

“WHAT?” He jerks the wheel, horns honking at you as other drivers swerve. You grab the dash to steady yourself, laughing at his outburst. “Do you know how hard it was for me to get general admission tickets? How the hell did you get paddock passes?”

“May have met someone pretty high up at McLaren in Los Angeles,” you say, examining your nails.

“Like, Zak Brown? You met Zak Brown?” Hunter was such a fan boy, you had to laugh. His love for McLaren ran so deep he practically bled blue and orange. The only reason you watched the sport was because of him shoving it down your throat for years, but damn if you weren't glad for it.

“Daniel Ricciardo.”

Hunter choked on air but managed to stay in his lane this time. “And you waited until now to tell me?”

“I didn’t know it was him when I met him! He was on a motorcycle and I stopped to help film a tiktok and then-”

“Of course you’d stop,” he mutters, shaking his head. “You’re a sucker for bikes.”

“Yeah well, lucky that I am, cause all I had to do was flirt to get us those passes.”

Your intention had never been to take advantage of Daniel. It was more the opposite in fact; you were just living in the moment and capitalizing on the once in a lifetime opportunity to flirt with your celebrity crush. You had to admit, it turned out better than you'd ever thought it would.

“I can’t believe you seduced Daniel freakin’ Ricciardo,” he says, shaking his head. “You astound me.”

“I didn’t seduce him!” You protest.

"Sorry my bad. You charmed him. That sound better?"

You roll your eyes. "Whatever. I damn near had a heart attack when I figured out it was him but he was kind enough to let me brush it off."

"Well, thank god for your two-wheeled obsession because without it, we would be watching the prix from the nosebleeds."

You laugh and shake your head. Hunter tended to have a poor filter when he was excited and tended to spew whatever was on his mind. "Just watch your tongue this weekend, alright? I'd rather embarrass myself than have you do it for me."

Hunter gives a mock salute. "Yes ma'am."

**********

You'd stuffed five different outfits in your bag in preparation for the grand prix weekend. In theory, it shouldn't be hard to decide what to wear. But Friday morning you changed clothes so many times you lost count. No matter what combination you tried you weren't satisfied.

Finally, you give up and settle on a McLaren polo and denim shorts. Simple and comfortable, but form fitting enough to catch Daniel's eye should you run into him.

You knew you shouldn't, but you pull out your phone to text him anyway.

Thanks again for the tickets. Let me know if you've got any free time so I can properly thank you!

You hit send before your brain has the chance to overanalyze the message. You check your phone obsessively the entire drive to the circuit, only half expecting a response. You tuck your phone in your pocket when you get to the gates, determined not to let it get to you. Daniel warned you he would be busy, and you knew that responding to you was likely on the low end of his list of priorities.

Hunter gets you to the circuit a half hour before they let fans in and you have to listen to him ramble about driver stats the entire time. Normally you don't mind; guessing who's most likely to win each Sunday is something of a competition in your household. But today, you couldn't focus enough to put any thought into your prediction, instead just blurting Daniel's name.

"You're only saying that cause he's into you," Hunter says, grinning savagely. "He struggles in Austin and you know it."

"So? He's in a McLaren this year. You saw his pace in Bahrain, and that was with a damaged floor! He'll podium for sure." You cross your arms and return his grin. "Besides, he's motivated."

"Oh, is he?"

"I told him I'd buy the winner of the United States grand prix a drink. Up to him whether it's him or Verstappen."

"Oh my god you have a date with Daniel Ricciardo?"

"Dude, chill out. It's not set in stone. Honestly, he's probably forgotten that I exist."

"Has he texted you?"

You glance down at your phone and are greeted with an empty inbox. "No. Not after the initial time so I could have his number." You shrug and pick an invisible piece of lint from your arm. "But he said he'd be too busy anyway."

"Guess we'll see once we get to will call, huh? If he's forgotten about you."

"Yeah." An odd feeling rolls through you. It feels a bit like nerves mixed with hope, but you stamp down on it. You were here to enjoy yourself. The trip of a lifetime had been handed to you on a golden platter and you were wont to let something as trivial as nervousness ruin it.

Bells chime as you step into the blissfully cool will call office. A blonde woman with a bit too much blush dusted on her cheeks greets you with a smile. 

"What can I do for you?"

"Picking up some tickets that were left for me by a driver?" You try, unsure of the proper procedure. "I don't have a paper or anything."

She waves a hand in the air as if she expected as much. "All I need is your identification. They should be under the name."

"Oh uh, of course." You motion for Hunter to hand over your wallet and show the woman your driver's license.

"Great. Wait here and I'll grab those for you."

You drum your fingers on the desk while waiting for her to return. After what feels like ages she re-emerges empty handed.

"I'm not seeing anything here with your name on it," she says, her plastic smile at odds with her sincerity. "I'm afraid your tickets aren't valid until Sunday."

"Can you double check? Daniel said they'd be here-"

"So sorry. There's no record of anyone dropping tickets off for you."

You blink, holding your tongue in the face of her blunt response. "Okay. I guess ill try and get it sorted out."

Hunter breaks the tension. "Can't you call him?"

"I can't just call him, I'm sure he's busy."

"Either that or we don't get in. Just do it, he gave you his number and specifically told you to let him know if there were any problems, didn't he?"

Yes he had, but that didn't mean you wanted to disturb him. He was probably knees deep in some sort of race weekend press conference or drivers meeting and heaven forbid you interrupt.  But it was either that or you slink home disappointed and empty handed.

"Fine," you grumble, pulling out your phone with deliberate slowness. Hunter crosses his arms and tips his head to the side, a smile playing on his lips.

"Well?"

"It's dialing, you good for nothing busybody-"

"I was wondering how long it would take you to call," Daniel answers, voice radiating sunshine.

You cut right to the chase, not giving yourself a single second to evaluate how your heart skips. "Look, I don't wanna distract you on a race weekend but I'm at will call and they're telling me they can't find any passes left for me."

"Let me guess," he starts, raising his voice to be heard over the pneumatic tools in the background, "You're dealing with Jenny?"

Your eyes fall to the name on the woman's lanyard. She shifts under your gaze like she knew exactly who you were on the phone with. "Yep. Spot on."

"Kinda figured she would be a problem. She's got a huge crush on me and does this every time."

You fight back the strange sensation his offhand comment brings to the surface. "Oh, really?"

"I'll be right there. Give me ten minutes or so."

"Oh you don't have to-"

"Hey, no big deal. I gotta go that way anyway."

"Uh, okay. See you soon?"

"Yup. On my way."

You hang up and stare down at the phone, stunned.

"Well?" Hunter asks.

"I guess he's coming here to sort it out himself."

He blinks rapidly and shakes his head. "Hold on. Are you telling me that I get to meet Daniel? Like right now?"

"Can you relax?" You laugh lightly. "Honestly you're gonna freak him out."

"Uh, yeah sure. No big deal, just meeting one of my favorite drivers in the minus five minutes and I'm completely unprepared. It's fine."

If you roll your eyes any harder they'd pop out of your head. "Relax. He's laid back, but I don't want you to freak out and embarrass us both."

"Excuse me," Jenny breaks in, her distaste clear. "Please move aside if you're not picking up passes."

"Er, yeah. Sorry." You shuffle awkwardly off to the side to wait. Cheesy elevator music plays and Jenny shoots you glares until the door squeaks open and the human incarnation of the sun steps inside. Your breathing stutters when the Australian shoots you a wink and a grin before sauntering up to the counter.

"Why hello there Jen," he says, and she giggles coyly. 

"Hi Daniel." She lays a hand on his forearm, the touch light and flirty. "What can I help you with?"

Daniel leans into her, whispering conspiratorially. Whatever he says has her bold smile faltering, replaced by a mask of professional cheer. Daniel shoots you another wink as the woman retreats to a back room, returning moments later with your supposedly missing passes.

"Thank you," Daniel says sweetly, taking them from her and turning to you. "I think these are yours."

"Thanks." You take the passes and hand one off to your awestruck brother. You nudge him and he comes to his senses in time to shake the hand Daniel sticks out.

"You must be the brother," he says. "I see you're a fan."

Dressed head to toe in McLaren colors, there was no other conclusion for Daniel to draw. For once your brother is the one stunned into silence so you answer for him, "Yeah, only a little. He was crushed when you left Red Bull cause Max is his other favorite driver and now he has to split his loyalties between teams."

Dan's laugh snaps Hunter out of his trance. "I know you're busy but do you think you can sign something for me?"

"Of course. How about this?" Daniel snatches the hat from Hunter's head and produces a sharpie from his pocket, signing the brim with practiced efficiency. 

"He'll be texting the group chat about that as soon as you're gone," you tell Daniel who laughs along with you.

Heat rises to your cheeks as Daniel's assessing gaze sweeps you from head to toe. "McLaren orange looks good on you."

Channeling his easy confidence you flash him a grin. "Not as good as it looks on you."

He smooths the hem of his soft shell jacket, smile turning bashful. "Anyway. I gotta run. See you Sunday after I win!"

Your eyes follow him as he jogs back through the paddock until he's swallowed by the crowd. You sigh, shifting your weight from foot to foot. God, he was gorgeous. And he had such a big heart. It was a shame someone hadn't snatched him up yet, but then again, that meant you still had a shot, even if it was a slim one.

"So where exactly do these get us?" Hunter toys with the lanyard now placed around his neck. "It doesn't say."

"I'm guessing the McLaren lounge," you say and point to the logo on the passes. "Above the garage."

"That's the perfect vantage point for practice."

And it was the perfect view- before getting in the car Daniel walked out into the pit, suited up in his cobalt racesuit and minty helmet and glanced up. You weren't sure if he saw you or not when you waved but he gave a little salute nonetheless.

Hunter was practically glued to the bank of floor to ceiling windows for the entirety of free practice, immersing himself in the experience. You found yourself glancing at the timing tables every lap, silently hoping to see the RIC tag move up. By the end of the second session he had been fourth fastest, a few tenths behind both Mercedes and the Red Bull of Verstappen. 

By the time you make it back to Hunter's house, you're both exhausted from a full day of running up and down the paddock. The pair of you had been determined to soak up every second of it, sneaking into whatever offices you could and stealing bites off the buffets and cups of coffee. 

Saturday’s free practice and qualifying session pass in a blur of color. Daniel drags his McLaren up the ranks to qualify fourth, his best starting position so far this season. He had a decent shot at the podium- Bottas should be easy pickings and if Verstappen and Hamilton made any mistakes, Daniel might even have a shot at the win.

The excitement in the air is palpable as you both flash your badges and head back up the now familiar path to the McLaren lounge. An hour before lights out, the v6 engines rumble to life below. You venture out onto the balcony, watching and waiting for a glimpse of Daniel.

The Aussie does you one better by walking out, race suit on and helmet in hand. He chats animatedly with Michael before stopping and craning his neck upwards. Michael nudges him with his elbow but Dan ignores him, answering your tiny wave with a wink. He mimes taking a drink and you roll your eyes.

Dan throws his head back and laughs, audible over the cacophony below. He gives you one final salute before Michael drags him back into the garage.

Ten minutes later cars begin streaming out on track, Daniel taking the fourth grid place as his mechanics once again swarm him. Tire blankets are secured, keeping them warm and pliable ahead of the formation lap. Thirty seconds before the boys are released, they're peeled back off as everyone scrambles off the pavement. Verstappen leads them away down the 3.4 mile track for the formation lap. Dan does a few small power slides before taking his place on the second row.

One by one, the red lights illuminate and disappear quicker than your blink. Daniel gets away clean while Bottas stumbles out of the gate, leaving himself wide open for Daniel's overtake on his right side. Cheers erupt around you, your brother going so far as to lift you off your feet.

Maybe Dan had a shot at winning after all.

A nail-biting 38 laps pass without a change in the order of the top three. Finally, a mistake in Max's pit stop sees him return to track third, just behind Daniel. The McLaren driver puts up the fight of his life, late braking at every corner and defending his position for all he was worth. Lewis was twenty seconds ahead- he wouldn't be winning but he could defend his second place spot.

Lewis Hamilton, race winner for the seventh time at the Circuit of the Americas!

Daniel Ricciardo crosses the line second, Max Verstappen takes home that last podium step for Red Bull. An astonishing fifty six laps here today in Austin!

The box erupts around you, a roar of cheers making it impossible to hear what else Crofty and Brundle were saying. But it didn't matter as Daniel raises his fist when he swings back into parc ferme, jumping out to be congratulated by his team. It was his first podium for the papaya team and you can tell it means the world to them.

"Looks like you're taking Lewis out for a drink," your brother teases. "Told you he wouldn't win."

"He almost won," you counter. "But hey, I'm not above asking Lewis on a date. Could you imagine? I mean, he would never agree, but still. It would be a hell of a date."

If you crane your neck from the balcony, you can just barely see the podium. Everyone goes quiet for the anthems and erupts again when the champagne is sprayed. The McLaren team chant for a shoey, which Daniel obliges. He sits to unlace his mint green boot and pours champagne into it, drinking from the boot before passing it to Max who joins in on the fun. 

Just as quickly as it began, the celebrations ebb. Daniel is the first to leave the podium which seems odd, given that the PR department surely wants his first big win for the team to be well documented.

Your phone buzzes a second layer. You fish it out of your pocket, a Cheshire grin splitting your face.

"Shouldn't you be busy celebrating?"

"I am," Dan starts, sounding breathless. You can barely hear him over the sound of the crowds chants behind him. "But I want to celebrate with you. I know I didn't win, but how about you let me buy you a drink instead?"

You barely hear anything beyond his first sentence. I want to celebrate with you. Were you dreaming? There was no way this was real.

"Um, I'm sorry, you want to celebrate by going out with me instead of your team?"

"If you'll let me. Hey- just text me okay? I can barely hear you over everyone screaming my name. It may be going to my head."

You laugh, drawing the attention of the vip's nearest you. You give an apologetic smile and move further from the crowd. "I'll text you an address. See you later, second place."

[only-lonely-stars]

ERROR: Remove Incompatible Software

(FFN)

[S15/16 SPOILERS (Crystallized)] After the loss of Nya, everyone in the Monastery is grieving. While Pixal has found a constructive outlet, not everyone has done the same. Meanwhile, Zane makes a choice that he may come to regret. (Rated T for mentions of trauma.)

Pixal sighed, setting down her tools for the first time in three hours. She’d been working tirelessly in the Monastery’s garages, just as a Nindroid would. The enormous projects the Ninja requested wouldn’t build themselves, and while she always grossly exaggerated the time necessary for construction, she usually worked on tight tolerances.

Even tireless Nindroids need a break.

After a moment, she stretched, listening to her joints grind from a lack of grease. All the lubricant in her joints had worn away while she worked over the past few days. She’d need to add more before her next working session in order to prevent rust and abrasion. Maybe Zane would help her reach the hard-to-access paneling– he always had before.

Zane…

He hadn’t come down to the garage in weeks. It was silly of her to miss him so much, but it felt like he was gone. Zane knew that she spent nearly all day, every day, down in the garages building the equipment the Ninja needed. Usually he would join her when he was able, but not anymore. Now he refused to enter any space that bore signs of Nya’s former presence. He had exiled himself to his own room, it seemed, and wouldn’t budge for anyone.

Not even for her.

Pixal sighed again. There was nothing to be gained by missing him. She would simply have to go upstairs and find him if she wanted his company.

These days, going upstairs to the Monastery felt like entering a different world. No longer was Pixal safe in her garage, filled with tools and metal and things to tinker with. No longer did she have a gentle reminder of Nya everywhere she looked– she had to deal with the mess of six grieving men, along with all of the things they neglected. Every memory of Nya was hidden by a layer of neglect and tears. The picture frames hadn’t been dusted in weeks. 

Jay was long gone. Kai was planning on leaving…

It was only a moment of time until Pixal was left alone permanently. Was that her fear speaking for her?

Whatever it was, Pixal did not know. She stepped over an old pile of gaming equipment that hadn’t been touched in weeks and made her way along the familiar path to Zane’s bedroom door.

After a brief pause to collect herself, Pixal knocked on Zane’s door.

No response came.

She knocked again, and this time she heard Zane’s voice. “Come in, Pixal.”

The flat tone of his voice struck her as being odd, and Pixal filed away the concern in her random access memory for later usage. She opened the door to see Zane standing in front of a mirror, his chest compartment open as he looked into it.

“Zane?” Pixal closed the door behind her. She folded her hands and came to stand next to him. “What are you doing?”

“I am examining my construction,” Zane said quietly, eyes fixed on the mirror. He was staring at his internal components, eyes grazing over the wires and switches. “What is it you need, dear?”

“I was wondering where you were.” Pixal frowned. “What are you looking for?”

“My emotion meter.” Zane sighed, tapping a finger against the metallic piece in question. “Given that I no longer have a memory switch, this is the closest I can get to forgetting recent events.”

Alarms began to sound in Pixal’s interface, but she silenced them and rested a hand on Zane’s arm. She gently removed his hand from his emotion meter, holding it in her own hand. “Is that relevant at the moment? What is wrong?”

Zane was quiet. “Pixal… are you grieving Nya as I am?”

She frowned again. “Of course I am. She was my friend too.”

“Yes. She was.” He hung his head. “How selfish of me to think I am the only one grieving.”

“Zane, do not be so hard on yourself.”

“Why not?” He looked at her now, pain written across his face. “I do not have the right to hurt so much over this!”

“What? Who told you that?” Pixal seized his hand. “Zane, that is not true. Nya was your sister too! You have every right to grieve. So many bad things have happened recently, Zane.”

“Then I am even worse.” Zane looked away, eyes closed tightly. “I cannot withstand this, Pixal. This grief too much to bear.”

“Of course you can. Ninja never quit, Zane. You never give up.”

“I have already given up, Pixal.” He shook his head. “And I am sorry.”

“Sorry for what? Have you done something wrong?”

“No. I am only about to do something wrong.”

“Then stop!” She reached up to take his face and make him look at her, but he refused her touch. “Zane, what are you planning on doing?” She pleaded, touching his cheek. “Please, do not shut me out.”

Zane took a long time to respond– fifteen seconds and thirty-seven milliseconds, as her interface unhelpfully displayed. “I want to turn off my emotion meter.”

“What?!” Pixal exclaimed, finally being rewarded by Zane looking at her in alarm and shame. “Zane, you cannot do that!”

He sighed, looking incredibly tired… and more alarming still, afraid. “Pixal, I’m ready. I backed up every one of my files twice. I can’t withstand this hurt.”

“But you must process your emotions! You cannot ignore them or force yourself to forget!”

“It is not ignoring them if I do not feel them!” Zane snapped. “Pixal, I am suffering more than I can explain! I can’t keep feeling this!”

“And do you not think I understand? Do you think I don’t know how you feel?!” She glared at him. “Zane Julien, I was there when you died! I watched you sacrifice yourself and freeze the whole city! I was the only one who knew you survived for months! Do you think I do not know loss?!”

Zane shrank away. “Of course not! I am simply saying that this is the breaking point.”

“Or you are being selfish, and fearful too.” She prodded him in the chest. “Zane, you are a ninja and a nindroid. Neither are cowards.”

He took her hand by the wrist and moved it away, stepping back. “You don’t understand.”

“Oh, I understand perfectly! You don’t want to process these emotions. You want to stuff them away, like every other time.” She crossed her arms. “I may love you, Zane, but I can’t listen to this nonsense. Do you even hear yourself?”

“Do you even hear me?!” Zane accused. 

“Of course I do, and I hear nonsense.” She shook her head. “You’re making a mistake.”

“Maybe you think it is. After some time, when I am able to process my emotions, I will turn them back on.” He reached for his emotion meter. “For now, I must abide by rational thinking.”

Pixal turned her face away, too angry to watch him flip the switch. “Then this is the end of us, isn’t it? All because of one small choice.”

“I don’t want to do it.” His voice was small, scared. “I just want to stop hurting.”

She closed her eyes tightly. “This won’t help. All you’ll do is hurt more later.”

“I don’t know what else to do.”

“So you resort to something only we Nindroids can do, just to stop the pain?”

She didn’t get a response for another seventeen seconds and ninety-eight milliseconds. 

Zane spoke, his voice was flat and emotionless. “I am a Nindroid. It is logical to take advantage of my many dissimilarities to organic beings.”

The emotionless tone of Zane’s voice made Pixal close her eyes even more tightly. She fought back tears of sorrow and anger, but she could feel them building in her artificial eyes. “You turned off your emotion meter.”

“I did.”

She took a deep, mechanical breath and looked at him. “Then you cannot even love me, can you? You cannot feel.”

Zane looked at her with a blank expression– eyes dark, brows straight, mouth only moving to speak. He had never looked more robotic. “My opinion of you has not changed.”

“Your opinion. But you can’t feel love.” She closed her eyes, turning away again. “Do you understand what you have done?”

“I have made it so that I can no longer feel emotions,” Zane noted robotically.

“No. Not that.” She shook her head, looking at him through her tears. “You’ve ended our relationship. I won’t stand by this. Until your emotion meter is back on, we are through.”

Zane didn’t react. “I see.”

She shook her head, ready to burst into tears. “I can’t even look at you.”

“I am sorry to hear that.”

“You’re not sorry at all!”

“I am using common colloquial speech intended for expressing sympathy.”

“I don’t want your sympathy! I want you to understand me.” Pixal turned around fully, making her way to the door and opening it without hesitation. “I hope you have the presence of mind to understand that I am angry.”

“Yes. Perhaps a cold shower will be of assistance.”

“I’ll be in the garage.”

No response came. Pixal exited Zane’s door and closed the door behind herself.

Pixal stalked the whole way back to the garage, anger radiating through every part of her mechanical body. She shut off her tear producers until she reached the garages. She went to her nook– a corner filled with old blankets and pillows that radiated safety to her.

Only then did Pixal cry, and cry she did.

The only being with whom she could ever be compatible was gone. An uncaring robot stood in his place. She’d lost the love of her life, and worse, he couldn’t even feel sorry about it.

She was left alone with her emotions now. No one would care. No one would come. Until Zane came to his senses, she didn’t even have him.

Pixal had every right to be angry, but all she could do was sob.

[thebadgerclan]

Little One

Pairing: Matthias Helvar x reader

Requested by Anonymous

Summary: Your little one will be here any day now...

sötnos-sweetheart, kärlek-love, fru-Mrs., älskling-darling

The name of yours Matthias’ child means “goddess of springtime”

A/N: MATTHIAS AS A DAD IS GOOD SHIT, WE WERE ROBBED

“Just what do you think you’re doing, sötnos?”  Your husband’s voice made you freeze in your tracks, and you sighed.  You were pregnant, due to give birth any day now, and Matthias was insistent you remained in bed.  “I do not want you straining yourself, love,” he reasoned.  “Our little one will be here any day now.”  But you were bored, wanting to see something other than the wall of your bedroom, so you tried to do simple things around the house.  You weren’t going to scrub the floor on hands and knees, but you could tidy the sitting room and the like.

But Matthias wasn’t having it, herding you back into bed each time he found you up and about.  Today was your 5th attempt, and as you’d expected, your husband found you within minutes.  “Just getting some water, darling.”  Matthias came to your side, taking your hands in his.  “You should ask me to get it for you, my love,” he said, concern on his face.  “You need to be resting.”  “Matthias, I’m bored,” you said.  “I have looked at nothing but the same four walls for a week!”

One of his hands came to rest on your belly, swollen with your child.  “I only want you to be safe, and our little one…”  “I know, kärlek.  I can move about the house, Matthias.  I won’t push myself, I promise.”  He considered for a moment, nodding.  “I suppose.  But I will never be more than a room away.”  You pulled him down into a kiss, as you couldn’t go on your tiptoes with your belly.  “Thank you, my love,” you said, kissing him again, before waddling your way into the kitchen.

***

An hour later, you were standing at the window in the kitchen, a cup of tea in your hand.  It felt good to stand after what felt like an eternity in bed, but as you gazed at your small yard, a rippling pain washed through your abdomen.  You placed a hand on your bump, brows knitting together.  Another wave of pain, this one stabbing, accompanied by a gush between your legs, made you cry out, leaning on the counter.  

“Matthias!” you cried, voice panicked.  “Matthias!”  He was in the room immediately, looking shaken.  “Y/N, my love, what-”  “The baby’s coming.”  He paled, face ghostly white.  “Djel, oh Djel.  I have you, let’s get you in bed.”  He came to your side, wrapping your arm around him and helping you get back to the bedroom.  Matthias eased you onto the mattress, frantically fluffing pillows and arranging sheets.  Another pain, and you moaned, making Matthias’ blood run cold.

“Darling?” he asked, and you gripped his hand.  “The doctor, Matthias, get the doctor.”  Every instinct in him told him not to leave your side, but you squeezed his hand.  “I will be fine for a moment, go!”  “Y-yes, the doctor.”  He flew from the room, leaving you alone.  The doctor you’d chosen had been staying with a neighbor for the past week, awaiting your labor.  Matthias pounded on the door, about to tear it from its hinges, when the doctor opened it.

“It’s time,” he said, completely out of breath.  “The baby, it’s coming.”  The doctor nodded, grabbing the bag that sat by the door.  He nodded, following Matthias back to your house and into the bedroom.  You were sweating, whimpering in pain, clutching the sheets at your side.  “Fru Helvar,” he greeted, opening his bag, setting up his tools.  “Are we ready to have a baby?”  You nodded, smiling though your teeth were grit.  “Matthias, if you could fetch some towels?”

In an instant, Matthias was setting a stack of clean towels at the doctor's side.  He pulled a chair to the side of the bed, taking your hand in his, kissing it sweetly.  “Y/N, may I examine you?”  “Yes,” you consented, parting your legs for the doctor.  He pushed your nightdress over your knees, beginning his examination.  Matthias disliked another man seeing you in such a way, but he knew it was necessary, and that this doctor was simply doing his job.

“She is progressing well,” he said, righting your nightgown.  “It will be painful, I will not lie, but I estimate in an hour or so, you will have your little one.  “O-only an hour?” Matthias asked, panc seeping into his voice, and the doctor nodded.  “Yes.  Y/N seems to be laboring rather quickly.”  “Sweet Djel,” Matthias swore, feeling like he could faint.  Internally, he was absolutely freaking out, panic at impending fatherhood setting in.  But on the outside, he was calm, he knew he needed to be.

A contraction hit you, and you grimaced, squeezing Matthias’ hand so hard, he thought bones might have broken.  “Breathe, my dear,” he encouraged, remembering the classes you’d attended.  “Good, you’re doing  so well.”  You labored for two hours, moaning in pain, clenching Matthias’ hands, breathing deeply, and swearing to Djel that you would never have sex again.  Matthias laughed, knowing that was a lie, but saying nothing.  When you asked, he helped you into different positions: squatting at the foot of the bed, on all fours on the bed, helping you walk round the house.

And when the doctor examined you and said it was time to push, Matthis felt like he could be sick.  But he sat at your side, clasping your hand in his, dabbing your forehead with a cool cloth, and whispering words of love and encouragement to you.  You were crying out the pain you felt, face red with exertion, trembling as you pushed.  After 30 minutes, the doctor announced that the baby was crowning, and Matthias kissed your forehead.

“You’re almost there, my love,” he said.  “You’ve done so well, Y/N, you can do this.”  “Matthias,” you whined, tears falling from your eyes.  “I can’t.”   “Yes you can, my darling.  You can do this; you have carried this child for 9 months, and you can bring them into the world.  Come on, älskling, let’s meet our little one.”  You pushed, nearly screaming, head falling back onto the pillows.  “Again,” the doctor instructed, and you obeyed pushing again, feeling an intense burning sensation between your legs.

“Once more.”  “You can do this, Y/N, my strong wife.”  You pushed one more time, letting out a sob when a shrill wail filled the room.  Your baby was here, and Matthias embraced you, pressing a kiss to your lips.  “I am so proud of you, Y/N,” he said, crying himself.  “So proud.”  The doctor cleaned your child off, placing them in your arms.  “A girl,” he announced.  “Congratulations.”  He shook Matthias’ hand before exiting the bedroom, leaving you with your family.

“We have a daughter,” you said, tears falling, but tears of joy.  “Our little girl.”  Matthias was in awe, completely enamored with the infant in your arms.  “I have never been more in love,” he said, voice sounding far away, as if in a dream.  “My love, you have given me my greatest gift.  Djel has given us so many blessings.”  You smiled, and Matthias moved to sit on the bed with you, and you leaned into his chest.

“What will we name her?”  The answer was immediate: “Maja,” Matthias said, and you nodded.  “Maja, our little girl.”  Matthias was overjoyed, feeling like Djel had taken him home to the waters.  “My darling, I love you so much.  I love our family.  Maja, your Papa loves you more than you will ever know.  I will protect you with everything I am.  I swear to you, nothing will ever harm you so long as I am breathing.”