#he panics because of the emp

[emilzke]

Bingo

Pairing: Leon Kennedy x gn!Reader

Summary: The village square was overrun and you & your mission partner Leon fought hard to survive. Yet, the villagers left under the command of the church bell, all dazed, without an explanation—leaving you both with relief and a joke that will change things between the two of you. [Inspired by: “You’re laughing. I told you a joke and you’re laughing. I love you.”]

Content: canon-typical violence, near-death experience, mutual pining ish, fluff

Word Count: 1.6k | Read on AO3

A/N: This can be read as a prequel to Extra and it’s part of a collection of works set during the events of RE4 with agent!Reader. I decided to write this because I thought the text post was very Leon and because you all seemed to enjoy Extra a lot :) way back when.

You almost thought you were hallucinating. Between your ragged panting, trying to regain your breath after fighting off hordes of infected villagers, and the sound of your heart pounding against your chest and your blood pumping, the sound of the church bell ringing and chiming was clear to hear throughout the village. One old villager, who just a few seconds ago was about to snap your head right off your neck, turned around and ignored you with glazed eyes—muttering something in Spanish that you couldn’t quite hear as he walked away slowly in a daze.

Just a few seconds ago, you had that villager’s hands wrapped around your neck as you desperately swiped your knife back and forth at his torso, hopelessly hoping to get some sort of damage in. And just a few minutes before that, your shrill cry to your mission partner could be heard.

“Leon! I can’t hold them off for much longer!” you called out as your voice broke from panic, something you would never do under normal circumstances. You felt some sort of instinctual need to prove yourself to him, your dashing mission partner that you swore would have a much better career as a model with his looks. Why was he wasting his time trying to save not only the President’s daughter but also you when things got really bad, even if you stubbornly never asked for it?

“Huh?” The sound of your partner’s voice shook you out of your confusion and memory, making you turn to him—opposite the pyre in the middle of the square that was still burning. You thought back to his shrill voice calling out to you too. “Hang on! I’ll be right there!” you heard him shout and multiple gunshots subsequently after, you could only assume he was trying his best to get to you as soon as possible. And seeing his position now, closer compared to before, you couldn’t help but sigh in relief.

Leon looked over at you, his heart still pounding with the thought that he would see the life drain from your eyes and your head ripped off your body because he wasn’t quick enough to get to you in time. The walking villagers with their mutterings in a daze put him in a daze as well, all he could do was look and turn around in bewilderment at the scene unfolding in front of him. The sound of an axe falling into a muddy puddle from a villager’s hand made you both whip your heads around with wide eyes, still on edge and bodies fighting for survival in fight or flight. You raised an eyebrow at him, a silent question that he could answer with nothing but a shrug.

He shrugged in his brown leather jacket and could feel his hands shaking, one of them still gripping his gun until his knuckles turned white. The door to the town hall slams shut and your eyes darted around to see the entire village empty.

Leon’s eyebrows furrowed with confusion as it settled in, now that he finally wasn’t fighting for his life. His head turned around and he couldn’t help but take a few steps to see further. Empty. All gone. As if nothing ever happened. As if the sounds of your desperate shouts and panicked gasps didn’t fill his ears and travel straight to his heart, making it pound fast—searching for you—just a few minutes ago. Surreal. Absurd. Ironic.

He scoffed at the barren and empty village surrounding the two of you and shrugged. “Where’s everyone going, bingo?” He asked with a now laidback tone since you both were safe—for now. His tone made your eyes slowly trail in his direction, processing with your eyebrows raised.

“…bingo?” You spluttered out, dumbfounded at his joke, and suddenly it occurred to him that not everybody appreciated his… strange sense of humour, so his eyes darted the other way. You, on the other hand, felt the ends of your lips being brought up without you even having to think.

Your amusement at his joke and the relief it—and the realization that you two were alone for now—brought, started off as a slight chuckle under your breath before your eyes trailed towards his direction. You found his eyes darting from looking at you and at the ground. His blond hair, as he cast his gaze downward in what seemed like a bit of embarrassment, couldn’t hide the slight smile, awkward as ever.

So, your amusement turned into not a slight chuckle but a bright laugh, a giggle at the sight of him and the thought that only Leon would be able to make you this… relieved, amused, and grateful… all at the same time. A weight seemingly lifted off your chest and the thought of the villager just now that had his hands wrapped around your neck just made you laugh even harder. Bingo. You nearly died and yet here you were, cheeks warm and chest light with relief, gratitude, amusement, and some kind of fondness.

Leon’s eyes darted back to you when he realized you were not only chuckling but laughing at his joke, your cheeks scrunched up from your wide smile. With every crease he found from your amusement, the more he couldn’t look away. Your laughter was unrestrained and sure, you might’ve just been a bit delirious from nearly dying but it didn’t matter; he made you laugh and feel comfortable enough to laugh after something like that. Leon felt warmth rise up his neck to his cheeks, making him brush the hair out of his face in reflex.

He’d love to know what was so fascinating about your laugh that made him unable to think clearly, to breathe properly. It was nice to make someone laugh, of course. But the sight of your smile and the sound of your relieved laughter felt like a light was shining brightly at him, interrogating him for his true thoughts. True fondness.

You both had only just arrived in this village and yet there was now an undeniable sense of gratitude that you were the one here with him, that you got paired with him even if it led you into danger like this. At least he was with you. To keep you safe. To keep you from harm so he could continue to see you laugh. The feeling of the bright interrogating light of your smile turned into feeling like there was a cartoon light ball above his head in realization, heart pounding so fast he almost swore it was slower when fighting for his life moments before.

You sigh deeply after chuckling with a slightly giddy grin, falling back to lean against one of the walls of the village's houses, your eyes trailing towards Leon. Your eye contact was what broke him out of the trance that made him stare at you and every crease in your face from your smile. He gulped nervously as his legs moved on their own towards you, thumbing the hem of his leather jacket at the uncertainty his realization brought.

I love you. Those three words so foreign to him never made more sense. Every memory Leon had with you changed, even though they were just late nights scanning over paperwork at the office or you desperately trying to land a kick at him during training. Every memory he had of seeing love everywhere when he couldn’t fully understand it changed too. Leon repeated those over and over again in his thoughts. I love you. Now he knew how it felt to have the words creep up from his heart to his tongue, lips parting with nothing but a ragged sigh escaping and spilling out of him instead of those three words he knew would change things too much for the both of you.

You cocked your head to the side with an amused smile and your eyes narrowed in question—this wasn’t the somewhat calm reaction you expected from him making you laugh deliriously. Leon reached out a shaky hand that went unnoticed by you and placed it on your shoulder. His eyes trailed from his hand placement to your neck, handprints had begun to show now from earlier.

One minute or second more and you’d be taken from him. He wouldn’t be joking then. And you wouldn’t be laughing either. He wouldn’t get to hear the sweet cadence of it or see the creases in your face as you smiled—the features that interrogated him and illuminated a deeper feeling he held than just fondness.

“You… okay?” You asked with a raised eyebrow. You knew he was trying his best to calm your nerves and comfort you after what nearly happened but you figured your reaction to his joke would’ve told him you were okay, more than.

“We should probably… get moving,” he replied, the breathiness in his voice that wasn’t there normally caught your attention and it dawned on you that maybe it wasn’t you that needed calming but him. Leon’s hand fell from your shoulder and his lip curled upwards, making you rethink. “Before more of them come,” he added with a tired but relieved sigh, looking back at you with what you could only describe as gratefulness. You smile back, a fond and thankful smile this time instead of an amused one.

Those weren’t the words Leon wanted to say to you, those three words that he repeated over and over again in his mind. But they made their home there until he could think of nothing else but you when the thought of the word love crossed through his mind.

thank you for reading! . link to series masterlist . masterlist

© emilzke : please do not copy, translate, or repost my works.

[jeeaark]

I love the "Emps forgot to order supplies" angle because IT MEANS HE'S RELAXING. LOOK HOW CALM HE LOOKS. it's ok to make mistakes! It's not the end of the world (Anymore)!

Oh no, that perspective is too wholesome. Oh no, Squid Buddy's slowly letting go of control issues while simultaneously giving Greygold a panic attack. Alright....I can live with this ending. And without the letter.

[noangeleither]

"fixing" the panic attack scene to be more platonic ™

im extremely active on twt and have been noticing a sydcarmy tweet go viral multiple times a week (like w thousands of interactions its crazy), and its really great to see how much people love and see it for this ship. recently carmys panic attack scene went viral again, and naturally, some ppl gave their piece about how we are all dumb for interpreting it as romantic. that sydney represents his love for his job or his duty to the restaurant (*sigh*).

this scene imo, is the most concrete proof of this ship. i can excuse (not really) interpreting every interaction between them thus far as platonic but this scene....i just refuse. this is gonna be a long post, not analyzing the scene per se because i can't possibly say anything that hasn't already been said but more "fixing" the scene to fit the narrative of antis, and i hope in doing so really shows there's no other way to interpret this scene as other than romantic. again its gonna be a long post bc im just ranting and i think i will lose my mind if i dont type this out.

lets go.

so first off i like to think of this scene as an equation/experiment. simply a problem that needs to be solved.

problem/reason of panic = ...we will discuss this...

solution # 1 = claire -> failed

solution # 2 = sydney -> worked.

Problem/Reason

s02e09 opens up with carmy and claire finally consummating their relationship, with an interesting song choice might i add and carmy dissociating, looking sad, or broken (???) after. because many have said carmy pulling memories of sydney from his psyche to calm down have to do with work i always remember that, it really doesnt make any sense?

carmy is clearly having a panic attack due to him not being "fixed" as soon as he made it official with claire. he felt pressure from his family both currently and in the past to date claire because she is amazing and perfect. add mikey also being a part of that crowd, and carmy so desperately trying to connect with him when he cannot, is why i think he looks so despondent after that scene. i truly think he thought he would be a changed person after everything with claire and when that didn't happen he flipped...

we know this is the reason bc his panic attack starts with their sex scene and the lyric "I dont know" from strange currencies by REM.

this isn't to say that he isn't nervous or stressed about the soft open but its clear that he's not having a panic attack about work nor have we ever seen him have a work-related panic attack (correct me if I'm wrong). in s1 he has one or two due to him greiving his brother.

platonic fix: To make it about work I would have added scenes like when Carmy started that stove fire in braciole, his meltdown in review, some scenes of his horrible time at EMP, and him grieving his brother. i think these would represent his fear of failure, falling back into old toxic habits pertaining his career, the fear of fostering a toxic work environment like the ny chef and also the idea of "failing" mikey

but theres a reason why none of this occurs bc its not about his job or the opening of the bear. this is explicitly about his personal and romantic love life.

Solution # 1 : Claire

carmy proceeds to try and calm down by thinking of claire through literal rose-coloured glasses...

the music is distorted, he's thinking of his abusive family, he remembers every one pushing him to date claire bc shes a #goodthing.

again...this is not about his job and wouldnt make sense to think of sydneys place in his work life as a soultion to his clear personal problem....

platonic fix: in the story of carmys love life claire and sydney act as narrative foils. they have been compared and contrasted for all of s2. my platonic fix for this would be making the NY chef this first "solution" of a work-related panic attack. he represents a horrible time in his life but also represents a time when carmy was at the height of his career. when carmy gets locked in the walk in and has his monologue, its alluded to that he will revert back to that mind set in order to not let everyone down.

NY chef abused him for so long, it makes sense that carmys psyche would readily go back to his insults and the time he himself was an isolated 'psycho' bc it yielded results.

nothing is black and white and i DO think sydney represents a healthier approach to the toxic mess that is the culinary world and does represent that for carmy. if the show was invested in that, sydney and the NY chef could be overtly contrasted like sydney and claire have been.

BUT again this isnt about his job and dedication as a chef...thus why he tries to think of claire to solve his personal problem, and it fails.

Solution # 2: Sydney

LMFAOOO.

carmy then in a crazy plot twist starts thinking of his platonic work bestie sydney adamu....the love song dedicated by the show to his relationship with his girlfriend is then made clear highlighting some pretty damning lyrics about desire and love.....all platonic btw. yes you are dumb if you think otherwise (*wink*)

I actually have two platonic fixes for this...

platonic fix # 1: if we only wanted to focus on sydney as a person who calms carmy down because shes his work bestie who represents his responsibilty to the bear and the postive change they are trying effect in the culinary world, i would add scenes where they are...you know actually cooking???

i think its pretty crazy how the memories carmys immediately jump to are ones that have little to do with their jobs. when they first meet (would also like to note that when carmy first laid eyes on Sydney, he forgot she was there for a job, so this is his raw reaction to seeing a pretty girl lol) and when she comes back after she quit and their break up fight.

i would add their scenes in carmys kitchen (even tho this is extremely damning bc they were flirting DOWN - they don't make this easy at all). this represents their collaboration skills and the way they WORK and bounce ideas off of each other seamlessly. specifically the scene about him wanting to give her a star, representing his duty to her and the restaurant.

*and no shade to carmy but if his responsibility to the bear/syd as a co-worker was bothering him this much and calmed him down wouldn't he have just immediately called the fridge guy.....anyways*

platonic fix # 2 (the best one): if i was chris storer and joanna calo and i REALLY wanted to sell it that carmy isnt in love with sydney then i would put every single member of the OG beef crew + Nat to calm him down not just Sydney.

im talking to them laughing at family, carmy giving tina his chefs knife, richie in his new suit, carmys one on one w Marcus/trying his donut, nat telling carmy shes pregnant (signifing rebirth/wanting to rid all the toxic abuse from his family), carmy trying sydney risotto, and her face when he said it was tremendous etc etc...you get the gist

and honestly?

even as i type this out im tearing up a little bit bc that would have been really beautiful. carmy is changing. he can and is getting rid of old toxic habits from his family and the mess that is the culinary industry. things are changing for the better....that would be beautiful....IF his panic attack was about any of these things lol.

and to even look at this scene without this need for symmetry and we entertain the idea of carmy thinking about his job as a solution for his personal problem...carmy has said himself (s02e01) that this isnt fun for him. i dont think that means he hates cooking i kinda disagree with the ppl who think he isnt passionate about it. i just think currently its something that doesnt bring him joy but i do think its something hes starting to or at least could have started to enjoy if he just committed to working with syd...

conclusion

theres a lot of....delusion? denial? straight up bias? yes all of that, going on.

idk what is happening bc this show is really great at being subtle. but i dont know whats more in your face, dumbed down, even a toddler could understand, than this scene. if you dont come out of this understanding that carmy is falling in love/currently in love with Sydney...and i hate using this term..but you just arent media literate.

bonus: bc it makes me laugh and connects the purpose and solutions.

i think we need a Snyder Sydcarmy Cut™ of bolognese and omelette.

the start of the episode is when sydney and carmy fight over claires inclusion in the menu, and also when sydney randomly asks him to define his relationship with Claire. the episode would continue until we get to the table scene.

i think its WILD how as soon as Sydney asks him to define their relationship, carmy starts calling claire his girlfriend. then the show proceeds to insert sydney in their romantic montage, shows her tattoo about heartbreak and someone getting in the way of your relationship...THEN proceeds to have carmy compare these two women in his mind and only calms down after seeing Sydney.

i could talk about this scene for AGES. wheres the straitjacket....

[gingergofastboatsmojito]

Carmy is based on THE STORERS

I read a few weeks ago on here that someone thought Sydney was gonna quit The Bear because "her character was based on Courtney Storer " and IRL she quit her dream job in CA because she burnt out there and it was one of the most disappointing experiences of her life.

I was sooooooo sure that was inaccurate because IK for a fact that Sydney's character is based on the first black female chef to ever win a Michelin Star, the one and only: Mariya Moore-Russell.

Context: Mariya won the star in 2019 when Chris Storer was still working on the ORIGINAL "THE BEAR" MOVIE SCRIPT, as I mentioned here.

So that's why Sydney's character was inspired by her and even her hairstyle was inspired by Mariya who sported braids for years.

BUT

Carmy on the other hand is a mix of Chris and Courtney's past and hopes and dreams. Carmen Berzatto is a hybrid character. The result of Chris and Courtney's real-life story of how they overcame trauma by finding solace in art.

Chris tried being a chef once, before changing careers, as he mentions here. He also mentions Carmy's character was based on many chefs he knows IRL including his sister. I have mentioned in many previous posts that Carmy is based ON HIM mostly (the personality), but yeah, the culinary part and the finding solace in making food and understanding food as a way to show love and hospitality to others, a way of connecting with others, THAT is all Courtney.

Courtney was and still is a successful chef. Turns out she, like Carmy, found solace in cooking and in that way "escape" her trauma for years, she found cooking to be a way to get out of her head and be "into her hands". This rings a bell, right?

It wasn't till later in life when she healed and no longer needed to do that, now she's EP of the show.

So Carmy's character is a mix of Chris and Courtney.

The psycho-chef post-EMP is Chris' dark side. It doesn't mean he is like this IRL, of course. It means he can be like this, but he prefers to pour all of that on the paper and sublimate it into his characters. More about that here and here. The one that reacted like this when Mickey cut him off:

The part of Carmy that we love, the Carmy that was almost nowhere to be found this past season, the sweet part, it's all Courtney, the one that was under the table and told Syd: "You love taking care of people" is Courtney's voice:

Source: Variety

The Carmy that said that fixing the restaurant was a way of fixing his own family trauma, is inspired on Courtney. So were Carmy’s panic attacks. (And Syd’s for that matter).

The part of Carmy that struggles to find amusement and enjoyment after trauma and puts all his energy into work is both, Chris and Courtney:

Source: People.com

So basically, Carmy is the past of The Storers and in the future he will, just like the real-life Storers, find his redemption.

Bonus track: I think we all know this one by now, but it's just funny and cute, I guess, so I wanna mention it: Courtney's nickname is Coco, and Coco is also the Danish invisible cat that Carmy and Marcus fed on the bote, in Copenhagen:

awww

Remember to follow my tag #Gingerpovs 💋

[alwaysrunningoutoftime]

the bear sydcarmy thoughts (season 3 spoilers)

I have never felt so dead inside and empty. I ended the season literally burning up. Perhaps I got my hopes up too much which wasn’t a lot tbh. I expected with sydcarmy the s3 ender was gonna be like a fight because of a reveal of her opportunity and maybe maybe a realization of feelings. But wow not that at all, in fact there was nothing really resolved.

I was expecting the angst and to be pissed off at Camry but but we’ve never been so immeasurably down and I have to say I don’t know how I feel about sydcarmy now.

What I notice is these two really took a nosedive this season. We went so downhill. In prior seasons we can usually expect by the end for some resolution to happen between the two, syd comes back, or we get like the lovely table scene. This season it’s like they got progressively farther and father apart.

We started off so strong with the EMP scene. Like I couldn’t fucking believe we actually got that scene, i shot up out of my seat it was so surreal.

And then as we continue to go, there’s barely any moments between the two together. And when there is, they’re always cut short. And you’re kind of just left short, wanting more. And i guess that was on purpose to show them so out of sync and their biggest weakness, communication. They really became just two coworkers, so unfamiliar with each other. And I was truly hoping we’d get something from the Ever scenes but no carmy is just so isolated.

And again I guess that’s the point. Carmy is so in his head, so haunted by Claire and David, so focused on the restaurant that he’s not trying at all to form a connection with syd (platonic nor romantic). He’s so focused on his past and carrying the weight of things left unsaid that as the al anon meeting says, it just digs deeper and deeper with him. Because he never bothers to resolve his issues, go to therapy and apologize to Claire.

So here’s the thing about Claire. It’s obvious he needed to resolve what happened with her. But what was really jarring to me was the amount of Claire scenes we got. In season 2 Claire is depicted as a distraction, there is always this constant clock running in the background with her. Carmy doesn’t even know exactly what Claire is to him, “a girl that’s a friend or a girlfriend.” Their relationship is so surface level. And then we start getting these s3 scenes and it feels like they’re retconning their relationship because this isn’t the claire and carmy from season 2. And if they were so great together why wouldn’t you show us then! Where are all these scenes coming from. But okay let’s say storer did hear people’s complaints and chose to give more to clairecarmy, then I feel so horribly fucked as a sydcarmy shipper cause why would you give us such obvious editing and juxtaposition between Sydney and Claire in s2 and turn around and do this. It feels like a betrayal. And worse of all the whole “Claire is your peace” THATS NOT WHAT THE PANIC ATTACK SCENE SAID IN S2, syd is the one who calmed him down. And despite seeing all these clairecarmy scenes they cannot measure up to the substance, the complexity of sydcarmy. And worse of all they didn’t even resolve the clairecarmy bs. And if they’ve spent so much time shoving these two in our face and I meant to believe those two are endgame, that they are meant to be together. god I’m gonna throw up, I feel so played.

But then my hope, perhaps my delusional is the EMP meal scene. It tells me that there will always be this invisible string between sydcarmy and as Chris storer said himself it’s about “finding the right people when you’re supposed to find them.”

Syd is right at the end of episode 1, is it supposed to indicate she is the endgame.

What worries me though is if they take this in a platonic direction, the platonic soulmates bs and continue on with clairecarmy.

So anyway back on carmy, and him keeping everything in and avoiding his problems. That is the reason why this season is so angsty. Carmy regresses severely and he is so lonely, you really feel it at the end of the season as everyone shares their story and he is too focused on David to connect with anyone. And then when he finally confronts David, he realizes nothing he says to this man matters. His words don’t mean shit. And it feels especially poignant because he’s been holding onto this for years, all this anger and hatred. He even follows in David’s footsteps with his own restaurant: “the greatest mistake is working for a bad boss, what it unlocks in you is the culture that you choose to create.” And they juxtapose David with Claire. And again is this the clairecarmy agenda being pushed. Or I also see it as him finally having confronted David, he now needs to resolve whatever the fuck he needs to with Claire.

Okay so onto Terry. Terry says: “i got to do all the things i wanted to do the way i wanted to do with the people i wanted to do it with.” And this is the thing carmy has to strive for, to create that good culture again. To make connections again. I mean correct me if I’m wrong but the only person he really connects with is Marcus (his actual mentee) he doesn’t really talk to Sydney, doesn’t resolve anything with Richie, I think he doesn’t even really talk to Sugar. And I’m realizing now, throughout the season there were so many people connecting with different people (off the top of my head: Marcus and Tina, Tina and Nat, Nat and Richie, Richie and Sydney, Sydney and Marcus). There’s so many more and different duos going on, and carmys barely a part of any of it. And then with Sydney’s party, while everyone’s celebrating and carmys just on his own.

We really emphasize his loneliness. There’s also the Sydney and Luca conversation about siblings, and then Sydney’s loneliness and her experiencing everything on her own and being used to dealing with things on her alone. And we see that in her panic attack scene, and she has no anchor (as someone else pointed out), no one there to comfort her. And it ending on this loneliness that follows both sydney and carmy around and that’s another thing that ties them together.

I don’t really know how to end this. I don’t know how I feel about sydcarmy right now, what the show is trying to tell me. Should I have faith in their invisible string, in them being tied together by loneliness. I understand this was the angst season and carmy really regressed, and he was focused on David and Claire. Is this season pivoting and telling me clairecarmy are endgame, or is it carmy being haunted by the still unresolved things between them? I can accept the added romance to their relationship, I mean she is his first real gf, there has to be good there. Does this necessarily mean their endgame or is she just a stepping stone, a first gf someone he is meant to learn lessons from, to then have his endgame with Sydney? (I think of new girl and the various good relationships nick and jess went through before getting endgame.)

THEY COULDNT RESOLVE ONE FUCKING THING!

And then the “to be continued” sign. Is this what people felt when they watched Across the Spiderverse, but like we were actually building towards something there. All I’m left with is dread with the bear.

Lastly I am so conflicted by this partnership. I have no idea what I want syd to choose. There will be a big show of loyalty if Sydney chooses to stick with carmy, I mean I also have to respect the loyalty in her also choosing the crew, her family (like Marcus and Tina and Nat). But we also see how far Sydney and carmy drifted from each other and we see the loss of their collocation and their synchronization. The way Carmy rebuffs all her suggestions. So im like “yeah fuck carmy, go off on your own syd.” And if she were to choose to stay that would be such a big sign of something more to me because now she’s choosing to believe in his potential, which is a big fucking deal.

But then I also think about the growth carmy experienced from learning at all these places. And how Sydney deserves that too. And also carmys speech about the chefs and learning from each other and branching out on their own. And maybe it’s that too, Sydney spreading her wings. But then no, I’m selfishly like no I don’t want her to leave.

But then maybe it’s meant to show growth in carmy, he was the one who left before. Now he has to trust in syd to leave and come back again. Idk.

Or yeah maybe syd just deserves to fuck off, become successful and fuck over this man.

I also think about that one twt post where the bear is about “Carmy falling in love with Sydney. And Sydney falling out with carmy” and god that would fuck me up so bad.

Am I meant to hold out hope, like this is rock bottom and there’s only up from here. Or is this them extinguishing the fire of sydcarmy for us? I understand we always have fan fiction and canons not everything, but the way camry and Sydney’s relationship, even platonically, was handled this season left me with a bad taste in my mouth.

Idk where I’m going with this. I don’t even know how I feel about sydcarmy anymore, I want to read a fic to soothe me but I don’t even think carmy deserves to be happy with Sydney right now. Idk let me know your thoughts, maybe my fellow sydcarmys can pull me out.

Also if there’s a discord I would love to join because I don’t think I can deal with this on my own right now 😭.

[thezombieprostitute]

Obviously this would be a completely different AU, but Garbage Men Steve and a little art thief? 😈

That would be interesting...

It would start so very similarly to the original story. An uninvited guest who keeps to herself and is allowed to stay because of how well she behaves, how excited she seems to be just looking at the art.

It's not entirely an act, at least the excitement at the art. She knows Rogers is a sucker for a good girl with good tastes. If it weren't his party she'd let herself indulge in some of the champagne or flirt with some of the easier targets. But she has to appear as a slightly doe-eyed good girl if she wants this to work. She knows he's watching. She's made discreet glances his way to confirm. She knows he won't be kicking her out any time soon.

When she finally finds the piece she's here to get, she presses the button. An EMP in just the right place to shut down the power, throw everyone into a panic and escape under cover of darkness. She leaves her calling card, a small business card decorated with Hummingbird Fuchsia.

When the chaos subsides and the power is brought back, Steve finds the card. He recognizes it and smiles. "You've made a mistake, Hummingbird," he muses. "I now know what you look like." He kisses the card and puts it in his suit pocket.

[ms0milk]

shapeless anxiety has crept up on you since birth but mr nanami knows its something much more sinister than that, always has been. something he won't lose you to. cw a panic attack in warm stables. surprise relief and a cowboy's hunting knife 1k

farmhand nanami tag <3

It happens, it happens, and you haven’t died yet. Trivial comforts that have long since lost their potency run your heart’s hamster wheel. That’s all your heart is at this point, a skittering thing with a life expectancy of three. Cannibalistic tendencies.

You knock the back of your head on the gate to a rhythm that at least keeps you from crying– limp on the floor of the south stables, back against the door to an empty stall at the end of a row of unsettled horses. They hate that you do this here. You hate that it happens and your riding hat slips over your forehead when you tremble a little too hard.

Nanami’s herding new calves today, playing babysitter in their spring pen. The old boss is away at auction so you’re promised privacy this afternoon to gather yourself and dry your eyes and keep your legs from shaking when you finally stand up again. This is worse than usual and spurred by nothing. Sudden and public, it’s been panic attacks and hiding places since you were school age– since before you got this job tending an old woman’s show animals. A two-woman job on paper and a one-woman show in practice, it’s paradise with housing. And the blessed coincidence of a new blond handyman.

Thank god, you shudder as dark thoughts dance their spirals, thank god for another set of hands. Your boots are too tight even after kicking them off, socks and jacket, skin pulled across your ribs, claustrophobic. It’s been ages since the last time this happened but you still can’t brush boars like this, or watch calves taste grass for the first time. When you think too hard about the heartbeat in your ears it makes you shake, the thought you can’t control its volume or pull the broken pieces out.

Still, the hens will be locked up to roost and the cows will get their babies back. Dogs will be watered and cats will be scratched because Nanami isn’t pitiful. He isn’t dying, surely dying, in a broken straw bale and you thank god again.

Your horses are hungry. The headache is back and you haven’t taken a breath in seventeen seconds. Stop counting. Talulah the white mare, older than you, stretches a sinewy neck over the top of her gate to nip but you’ve sunk out of her reach. Irritation or curiosity? What did you even come to the stables for?

“Miss?”

The sun sets in the window behind the saddle hooks and dread begins to drown you. It’s the cumulative weight of every attack since the first, just like always, and always almost too heavy to hold. Like something waiting just out of sight to sink its teeth into your throat. Ghost stories old volunteers used to tell around summer campfires become realities as you rip your hat off your head and hairs with it in an attempt to breathe better, or move better or just be able to fucking see. Hair against your face, straw through the weft of your jeans– legends say they found her body where it laid in the fields, mummified from fear.

“Miss Y/n!”

It’s less his voice and more the knife that startles your face out of your hands. Nanami falls in front of you otherwise silent, kneeling, looming, fist wrapped tight around a knife he’s driven through the wooden stall beside your head.

Immediately, the wheel slows its turning, replaced by nothing, spinning residually under the gaze of a worried cowboy with his hat around his neck. Nanami’s broad chest threatens the seams of his jacket as he measures his breath. His hair has been licked into awkward shiny spikes by happy tongues and he’s still got bribing sorghum in his breast pocket, and you realize too late to stop it, that you’re going to cry.

He drops his hand from the blade but doesn’t move away, scanning and tracing the clammy parts of you. Your cheeks and neck, chest and hands. His eyes dart over empty spaces and return again, “Are you okay?”

“You..” you what? Nanami stares through you like he’s stone until your thought is finished and you still haven’t regained enough sense to right yourself. Your back is flush with wood; hair, jacket and undershirt all riding up behind you where they snagged on the stall door when you sank. Tears spill over your lashes, “you startled me.”

Talulah reaches forward again to get someone’s attention; she’s hungry. Her neighbors stomp in their stalls or snort in your direction, but their frustration is too pretty a symphony to answer yet. You’re alive, the world didn’t stop and doesn’t need you to keep turning it.

Nanami exhales like he’s the survivor and leans forward to gather your things. He brushes straw from the brim of your hat, “I’m sorry.”

“That was scary,” you coo, smiling, melting. Pins and needles of the brain, feeling coming back now. You close your eyes to help the tears fall and lift your hands back to your face.

“I’m sorry, Miss.”

You shake your head and breathe three more times before speaking.“How’d you know?”

Nanami’s shy with his English, but you understand more than he means when he speaks to you. He lowers his gaze to your socks and lifts your boots by their pull straps to sit them beside you– stops short of overstepping– of slipping them on you. “Bad feeling,” he murmurs and fishes a clean handkerchief from his sorghum pocket. A full body shiver and you try to sit up, try to take what the golden hand holds out for you but your fingers meet his warmth trembling and cling to it. His hand is strong and leathered, it’s gentle with you always and he’s never seen you like this. The embarrassment will come later. For now the horses have given up complaining and you curl forward on your knees in a sob when the gentle cowboy lets you hold his hand. He’s quiet. He rests your hat in his lap and leans no closer or farther away as relief runs its course through your veins. He can explain the knife later. Cats, cows, and show ponies can wait five more minutes.

farmhand nanami tag <3

[ayoarticulate]

so the other night i posted how i played out a scene of season three im not even sure exists to help me go to sleep

i kinda wanted to expand on what the scene was, so here it is if you want it

this is just me playing around idk if this is really happening‼️‼️

i saw someone on here or on twt say that they think he’s setting up for a dinner with syd to talk things out with her and reconnect

i kept playing off this idea, and layering it with the possibility of syd being poached by ever, and because of carmy’s recent actions (emp micromanaging bullshit), she’s truly considering it!

going into the dinner, she hasn’t decided for herself yet, but she has decided to let carmy decide for her. not by him saying yes or no, but by his reaction to her mentioning that she was talking to the man from ever/thinking about actually leaving.

so dinner starts, yes, and carmy is just rambling and going on in the way he does when he’s around syd, and she’s just getting more and more nervous. think of the review episode of season one, where when syd is yelling at carmy and leaving, you’ve got the teapot, kettle hissing going on in the back as carmy gets more revved up, same thing is happening to syd except instead of throwing something, she just blurts out that she’s thinking about leaving. just like that.

cause she’s syd and she just says what’s on her mind and it isn’t always elegant or complete. and this news just makes carmen freeze. not get mad, start yelling, or anything, just freeze. and then carmen berzatto does something we’ve never seen before

he begs. he begs and whines and begs some more cause he cannot do this if it isn’t with her. he cannot find a reason to keep this up if he’s not doing it with her, for her. so he begs and pleads and ask what can he do for her to stay? what does he have to do, who does he have to become, for her to stay there with him?

and sydney does not know what to do, cause again, who tf is this carmy?? she has absolutely never seen him respond to anyone about anything like he is right now. she knows brash asshole carmy, but not vulnerable baby carmy. so what does syd do in the midst of this? she leaves.

like… physically gets up, leaves the table, and darts out the door.

END SCENE! yeah this was… literally all i was thinking to myself to help turn my brain off and go to bed. i just like imagining carmy as someone who’ll be all these versions of himself in front of sydney, and sydney as someone who doesn’t know what to do with what that vulnerability means. not to say she can’t handle it or doesn’t think it’s okay, but she simply doesn’t know what to do with it when it comes from him.

also i think i had an idea right before i went to sleep where he has another panic attack?? and i liked the contrast because last season she was what stopped his panicking but now she’s the cause? or something like that idk

[kyloknightren]

episode one is going to be long & sweet (not really sweet)

carmy out the fridge

opening day service

marcus moms funeral

carmy thinking about claire emp and almost fucking something up because he's zoned out or on the brink of a terrible panic attack

we are so back

[beth-is-rainpaint]

Rewatch of 7x03, "Alien Commies from the Future"

Favorite scene(s):

- Mackelena in the diner <3

- Deke telling Daisy he’s not the same guy he was in the Lighthouse :’)

- Elena helping May after her panic attack (I just love their friendship)

- Coulson being delighted by how delighted Jemma is at getting to dress up as Peggy Carter

- Coulson being a dork while meeting getting arrested by Sousa

- Jemma and Daisy working together to get the EMP working

- Deke looking absolutely delighted and Mack looking absolutely exasperated when they have to trick Gerald Sharpe into thinking that they’re aliens from the future

Favorite quote(s):

Sousa: Who the hell are you? / Daisy: Who I am is on a need-to-know basis. / Sousa: I need to know!

Coulson: Agent Sousa! Big fan.

Daisy: [Coulson]’s alarmingly strong. / Jemma: Yeah, I keep forgetting!

Other noteworthy stuff:

Jemma-as-Peggy will always look like Jenny from Call the Midwife to me. I can’t unsee it.

I just. Wonder if making Jemma forget Alya is what causes all the issues with D.I.A.N.A. Because she’s already at least a little confused about what she’s supposed to remember.

I remember when I first watched this episode, seeing that first scene between Daisy and Sousa, I was like, “Huh. That’s an . . . interesting meet-cute, if they’re going in that direction.” I kept saying I thought she would end up with Lincoln from that timeline, but deep down I knew this was the direction they were going.

[simulamortem]

EGO RETENTION RELAPSES

in this house we love a messy bitch, and as it happens, Revenant's breaking his programming made him very messy.

Ego Retention can't pull him under again, but it TRIES sometimes. I call these incidents ego relapses, in which Revenant's perception gets stuck in its former state where he sees himself as human again. he KNOWS BETTER now, but that doesn't change his experiencing his human body instead of the mechanical shell - and he hates it.

after all this time acclimating to his machine body, getting stuck in his human body again feels extremely jarring. sensation is much more vivid for him in an ego relapse, especially pain. Revenant's been a bit spoiled as a simulacrum by learning that much of his chassis doesn't have much haptic to it, and he can basically switch off his perception of pain in some cases. but in an ego relapse he can't help how much things HURT, even knowing it's just in his head.

more than that, experiencing his human body again reminds him not only of the man he used to be - who he hates so much for having gotten him where he is - but also of all the violent deaths he went through under Ego Retention.

this excerpt from one of my threads puts it best I think:

"Besides the air in and out of his lungs, he could feel his damn ribs moving with each breath, and all it reminded him of was all the times he struggled for air, died a suffocating death or felt the burn of a bullet in his gut or choked on hot blood thick in his throat. The illusion of his human body may as well have been one big open wound for how many times he had SUFFERED its death."

while these relapses aren't common for him, they do have a variety of possible TRIGGERS:

EMPs or anything electrical risks damaging his neural processor in juuust the right way to kick a bit of Ego Retention back into gear

similarly, any direct physical damage to his neural processor risks a relapse

to a much lesser extent, technically any physical damage at all can risk a relapse, if his neural processor just ✨ decides to be a little bitch at that moment ✨

Revenant has made a habit of avoiding his reflection because there's always a chance he'll see his old self instead of the murderbot

though only likely to happen in the circumstances of a ship, if he's feeling relaxed enough, someone touching him very gently can sometimes trick his perception into thinking they're touching the human body instead of the machine body

when he first wakes up from sleep, especially if he wakes up in a bed, he'll sometimes go about his morning routine from when he was human until he catches himself

FIXES:

ego relapses can happen in just fleeting moments which Revenant is able to brush off - but they can also stick, in which case he usually wants to DIE as quickly as possible, as being stuck in a relapse makes him miserable and moving into a new shell is his quickest guarantee to getting back to normal.

however, he can also acclimate to some extent if getting killed isn't an immediately available solution. he just won't be happy about it, and it'll be very difficult for him to relax or feel comfortable.

there may be other ways to "fix" a relapse, but not without help; somebody Revenant trusts who could guide & ground him back to his mechanical body. the same techniques that work for helping panic attacks & dissociative episodes also have the potential to help him out of an ego relapse.

[chronicbatfictioner]

Exchanges and Compromises - Chapter 25

Jason didn't have time for niceties, definitely. But he did checked on Alfred when he managed to dispose of the strike force - whoever they were - from the door.

"Jason! They've got Master Bruce!" Alfred reported. He did not - much to Jason's relief - look like he needed assistance as he kept shooting with uncanny accuracy through a shotgun. Jason collected another rifle from another prone body, and discarded the one he'd repossessed before, and made his way toward the bedrooms.

"Damian!" he called, even as he saw Dick fighting at least two dozen men.

"They got him!" Dick called.

Jason stilled and glared at Dick, leaping to and fro and landing punches and kicks, but there were simply too many of them. "Get to me in three seconds, Grayson." Jason growled lowly, punching the inner-ear commlink. "Cat, get Alfred out and away in your car now."

"Alfred's safe!" Tim reported a second later. "I'm holing in the car. What?"

"Zap them all." Jason stated as Dick came within arm's reach. "In three, go up and off the ground, Dick. --Two, --one!"

Dick leaped, taking Jason with him, toward a chandelier; and held on to it just as Jason dropped a tiny EMP/taser grenade. It zapped around as it hit the ground, and thanks to Dick's acrobatics, Jason himself would not be affected.

"Okay, back down." Jason ordered as the 30+ attackers dropped like flies. "I hope your shoes are insulated. And where is Damian?"

"Bruce got to him in the panic room!" Dick looked pissed. "I'm sorry, I'm... I didn't think he'd try anything in his own house..."

"Right," Jason snapped and flicked the comms back on. "Oracle," he called. If all went according to plan, Tim would have used the same method outside, using his tweaked-out car as a taser.

"Tim's immediate surrounding is clean." Oracle reported.

"Let's go!" Jason all but dragged Dick. He wanted to get pissed at Dick, but managed to keep his anger in check. Dick might have been an excellent fighter. But he was not trained to guard.

"The GCPD and first responders' on their way after they saw the boom." Oracle reported. "You might not want to be next door."

"I have a place a little further out of Bristol, ten minutes away." Tim said, a little grimly. "We're going there." he continued as Jason and Dick got in to his car.

Jason kept quiet through the journey, largely because Alfred and Dick, too, were being quiet. Oracle would handle the outside CCTV recordings, and hopefully hold back all queries as to where the Waynes were during what seemed like a whole invasion. There were so many bodies, more than the League of Shadow's would have been able to get their hands on.

He was still thinking of what or who could have been behind the whole attack, when they arrived at a little hut in the woods just outside of Bristol Township, a few miles beyond Wayne Manor's borders. He was not initially worried of Damian, he would be able to find him easily. Even as they got in, the League's people would have been starting to track Damian through a tracker he has in him.

It was Dick who spoke first. "I'm sorry. I tried to get Damian to the panic room and Bruce followed. He must have drugged Damian because I saw him leaping out a window with Damian under his arm..."

Alfred chimed in. "He is not Master Bruce, Richard. I can assure you that."

"Okay," Tim sighed. "O? I think we need a change of plan here. Jason? You have anything?"

"Yeah," Jason exhaled slowly. "Alfred, we know he's not the real Bruce. We've been trying to find the real Bruce for quite some time now. I'm just..."

"Arkham Asylum," Tim suddenly said. "Shit, shit, shit... Why didn't I think of it. O?"

"Sending a team to Arkham right now." Oracle replied as her projection appeared on the screen. "Good to see you, Mr Pennyworth. Too bad it's under this kind of circumstances."

Alfred gave her a slight nod. "I have heard of the almighty Oracle. The honor is all mine, miss." he said. "And pardon me, I'm not assuming your gender. The Oracle of Delphi, however, were always female." he added just as Jason, Tim, and Dick swiveled their respective heads toward him.

"Of course," Oracle replied. "Arkham team is six minutes out. Eleven to break in. Jason?"

"Okay, like I've said, we've been trying to find Bruce and keep an eye of his parents for a good while. I don't believe he's dead - at least hoping he's not, for Damian's sake." Jason said. "Why Arkham, Tim?"

"We assumed he'd be detained out of town and/or dead and body hidden out of town. But Bruce Wayne is a formidable and well-known face. He's big and tall and memorable. There is no way he could be willingly get into somewhere like Switzerland and not leave without anybody wondering why. Even with a private jet." Tim explained. "That would mean he's still within state lines. What better place to hide someone famous in plain sight than an insane asylum?"

"Damn, boy..." Jason huffed. "So who's Peyton Riley--? Alfred?"

Alfred suddenly gave a glimmer of recognition that caught Jason's attention right away. "Riley, you said? By god..." Alfred sighed. "I know now who that man is..."

It was Oracle that made the demand, "explain."

"Master Bruce had... a friend from a good long while ago. Thomas Elliott." Alfred explained. "I should have seen it through the chess games... He was... an unhappy young man, largely because he was always compared to Master Bruce by his mother. His father was killed in an automobile accident, in which Dr Wayne managed to saved his mother's life. His mother has passed away a few years ago due to... an accident, so they claimed. She has always been frail, especially after her bout with cancer. Thus when she fell down a set of stairs, no one questioned it. At the time, young Thomas has been seen with a young lady who was believed to be the daughter of Patrick Riley, the Irish Mafia. Her name is Peyton.

"Young Thomas has a medical degree specializing in cosmetic surgery. But he was not a businessman. His family's construction company is now in ruins, I believe. And he would have been... poor, if not desolate. But..." Alfred paused. "I daresay he had altered his appearance to look more like Master Bruce. But the demeanor... I have practically raised Master Bruce since he was but a wee child of ten. My father raised him since birth and informed me of all of his quirks and habits. I know the difference between the two like the backs of my hands." the old man fell quiet, although the lines on his face betrayed his calm voice.

Tim was quiet the whole time, but Jason could tell he was actually thinking. "You're reading a little more into this, Tim," Oracle commented before Jason could.

"He has had control over the Waynes' wealth, indirectly, for more than four months." Tim remarked.

"Checking now," Oracle reported. "Nothing out of the ordinary, no major amounts redirected out of the family accounts. Mr Pennyworth? When exactly did you start suspecting that he was not Bruce?"

"He walked in just as that brute, Bane, got in the Manor." Alfred reported.

"Did he say anything to Dr Thomas of proving Bane's parentage through DNA test?" Dick asked. "I mean, Dr Thomas denied DNA testing. And like I've said before, if I were an only child and someone walked in claiming to be my brother, I'd demand a DNA test. At least to be compared to me."

"Either way, if he'd demand to do a DNA test between himself and Bane, they won't have matched. It won't hurt him at all in the long run." Jason reminded. "And he did a DNA match with Damian..."

Everyone turned toward Alfred as the old man cleared his throat. "But he did not, Sir. He presented a cotton swab when asked at the laboratory, stating he hated having his blood drawn." Alfred reminded.

Jason groaned. He had noticed that back then, just didn't think of it much. "I should've..." he sighed. "Anyway, okay." he pulled out his cellphone, reading through the reports that came from the League's agents. "He's heading north, toward the Canadian border."

"The Birds are going through Arkham with a fingerprint scanner and I'm backing them up with DNA tester. I'm absolutely sure that the swab came from the real Bruce..." Barbara remarked. "Can't imagine Talia Al Ghul would be fooled by an impostor."

"I'm putting reasonable faith that Damian is the real Bruce Wayne's son, and that the swab had actually come from Bruce Wayne. That means that within a week thereof, Bruce was still alive." Jason said, trying to ignore the pain that crossed Alfred's face. "You tell me when, Oracle, and I'll deploy my people to get to the Doc and Missus."

"Get them now," Tim ordered. "How soon?"

"Less than ten." Jason replied, punching the commands into his cellphone. "They're rolling. Oracle?"

"I... can't disagree. Tim, you gotta share your plan here."

"Elliott - for the sake of clarity, I'll call him that until otherwise proven, yeah?" Tim started. When everyone just shrugged and not protest, he continued, "Okay, he has at least fifteen minutes ahead of us toward Canada. I would presume that he has made preparations against the League, knowing Damian's ties to them. But he wouldn't be prepared against our resident Rich Boy and his quiver of sharp things," he smirked, showing his cellphone screen. Jason unconsciously smirked, too, as the Green Arrow's symbol appeared. "I've asked Green Arrow to follow the tracker signal I've got from Jason and get Damian. But in the mean time, I think Elliott is planning to dispose of the Doc and Mrs Martha, and then kill Bruce. Why? Money."

"Yeeeah, I don't follow..." Dick sighed. "explain it for us who doesn't have rich folks with inheritance to get?"

"Simple, if Doc and Missus Wayne died at the same time, their wealth would pass on to Bruce, yeah?" Tim explained.

"Obviously," Dick agreed. "And if Bruce died, it'll fall to Damian. But won't it make more sense to kill Damian first?"

"Sure, if Damian is just a street rat from down the block." Jason inserted, starting to see Tim's line of thought.

"Exactly. Damian is not just a street rat from down the block. He's also the heir of the Al Ghul empire, which is considerably larger than Wayne's. I would bet you all of my tiny little empire that Elliott is planning to kill Bruce, and then make Damian state him as the heir. Damian is a minor - in any country. And without Jason by his side, Elliott thought that he could manipulate or threaten Damian." Tim continued.

Jason sighed, a little exasperatedly. "Obviously he undermined and underestimated Damian..." he said. "I hope he'll keep Damian tied down tight. Otherwise that kid might do some facial reconstruction of his own..." to Alfred's single eyebrow-raise, Jason shrugged. "Hey, he was raised by the League of Assassins. Whaddya expect us to have done? Teach him how to knit and sew?"

"I shall be more impressed if you did." Alfred replied dryly. "Regardless..." he paused.

"Oh, and I've got the thing that would undo bone restructuring." Jason suddenly remembered. "It's... well, subtle. But if the restructuring is extensive, it can be quite painful."

"At this point of my life, young Jason, and after all the things that man has put my family through, I find myself lacking the required sympathy." Alfred told him.

"Okay, then... first thing first... How's Arkham?" Tim asked. "Green Arrow should be the welcoming committee as soon as they found..."

"They found him!" Oracle's electronic voice sounded odd with the excitement Barbara couldn't suppress. "Holy mother of all things mighty, we found Bruce Wayne!"

"Green Arrow, you got green light." Tim told his cellphone, commanding Green Arrow. Then he looked at Jason.

"We've got the senior Waynes. Four casualties - Peyton apparently brought in some muscles. She is detained and the Waynes shall be relocated back here." Jason reported as the reports came in from his agents. "Now, Green Arrow, you better make the best welcoming committee fit for a hero on this side of Valhalla for my little bro."

[anyroads]

I was gonna put this in the tags but fuck it, story time:

I had this job at a non-profit over ten years ago. I was hired to manage their comms, which wasn't my ideal career path, but I was coming out of chronic illness and believed in this org's work. I moved across the country for the job and planned to be there for at least two years but ended up quitting after less than a year. Not only did they violate my work agreement over and over, they also violated several state and federal labor laws. If that wasn't bad enough, the CEO was horribly abusive and I often spent part of my day cleaning up co-workers' tears in the bathroom because they were treated so badly. I've worked in some awful places with awful people, but this was by far the worst. It wasn't just the CEO, either - he encouraged mistreatment and awful behavior in the rest of the senior staff, who were only too happy to oblige.

Then came time for my six month evaluation, which wasn't actually scheduled until about nine or ten months in so it was really late. My department head (reader, we were a two person department and I was more qualified but she had been there slightly longer, which is the only reason she was the department head) spent the whole evaluation berating and demeaning me. For context, I was hired to manage the org's comms: beef up social media presence, manage the website's backend, support and help create marketing campaigns etc., and also be the on-staff photographer. What my job actually consisted of was 90% managing the database which was so outdated the company who made it no longer existed and the other company who bought them one out no longer had anyone on staff who could offer tech support. Most of my evaluation was getting yelled at for not being able to make this garbage software work when it wasn't even in my work agreement that I would have to do database management. I was threatened with job termination, but I had spent enough time mopping up the panicked tears of coworkers to know that this was a bluff to avoid me asking for a raise (one co-worker hadn't been good enough for a promotion she earned but was somehow qualified to cover for her boss's maternity leave, another was fired on a Friday and offered a higher job Monday without a raise after having the weekend to panic about being unemployed within two weeks, etc). I felt especially sure of myself since I had found time to fulfill all my other responsibilities despite all the database bullshit and had streamlined several processes so that tasks that took my predecessor whole days to complete took me only an hour (templates!).

After this blood boiling meeting the CEO, who barely ever gave me the time of day, took me into an empty office where he proceeded to talk at me for 45 minutes. He had a habit of putting his feet up on tables when he talked (and he liked talking. On my first day he wanted to have lunch to get to know me and went on an hour long rant where I couldn't get a word in edgewise and eventually hoped he would forget to breathe and pass out but alas, he was well practiced). With the setup of this particular office, since the desk faced wall, this meant he had his back to me the whole time he was talking. About five minutes in I took out my phone and started looking for jobs; he didn't even notice. A week later I took a sick day so I could take a job interview call from home; my dept. head emailed me a request halfway through the day and set the deadline for a task at 9am Monday. When I didn't reply to it until Monday morning, she threatened me again with termination.

Reader, you will not believe the surprise on her face when I insisted that an HR rep be at our next meeting. It was almost as stunned as when said rep affirmed to her that since I was threatened with termination HR must be present at all meetings discussing my performance. She also reiterated what the state labor board had already done so when I followed up with them: that it's illegal to threaten an employee with negative repercussions, let alone job termination, for not working during a day off, and especially since I had my auto-reply on and my dept. head should have received my "sorry I'm out sick will get back to you Monday" message, she should have known better.

I did get the job I interviewed for, by the way. And I did quit. However, unlike my dept. head, I looked over my work agreement first to make sure I didn't overstep, and sure enough there was no notice period stipulated. So.

Tee hee hee.

I had a standing weekly meeting with my dept. head to go over ongoing projects and tasks. I did not schedule a separate meeting with her. I walked into our weekly meeting and told her we will not be discussing our usual agenda. I watched her jaw literally drop as I listed her labor and ethics violations and stated very clearly that despite the commitment I'd had to this job and this org, I was quitting, that it was directly because of her appalling conduct and violations of my work agreement, and that my last day would be the end of the week (this was a Wednesday). She tried to hold over my head that "it might come off as aggressive to everyone else in the office to quit with such short notice" to which I replied that it was quite aggressive of her to threaten to fire me without giving me any prior warnings and opportunities to improve where she found fault with my work. In the end she begged for me to stay on for two more weeks; I agreed to one week because I had a planned vacation starting after that and already had flights booked, which I wasn't going to change for her nonsense. I'm petty and salty and it was delightful to see her go from trying to strongarm me to realizing she had no cards to play and resort to pleading for me not to jump ship overnight.

Not one person in that office faulted me. The senior staff were scared I would sue and were suddenly all sweetness and politness, except the CEO who outright shunned me and didn't speak a word to me or so much as look at me after that. Everyone else was excited for me that I was getting out (several of them had, over my time there, made the effort to let me know that my predecessor had been treated much better while doing shoddier work and that there was some sexism afoot, and felt for me because of how hard I'd worked only to be berated). At my last staff meeting, the CFO made a speech about how "we're all family here" and how I would be sorely missed because I had contributed so much. When it came time for me to reply, I looked her in the eye for an uncomfortably long time until she was visibly nervous and uncomfortable, and then said simply, "perhaps if you'd said as much earlier I might not be leaving" and left it at that. On my last day, after clearing out my desk, I took all my files off the shared drive and changed the language setting on my computer to Hungarian, so my dept. head couldn't access my work and had to start from scratch.

They learned nothing, by the way. Within the next couple of years they fired several people in awful ways for shitty reasons who had been there for years, including a pregnant woman (they wanted to save money by replacing her with the assistant they hired to cover her maternity leave, ie. the new employee was given entry level pay and the org wouldn't have to pony up extra insurance fees for a newborn). But reader, it gets better. It gets so much better.

See, the CEO had built a reputation for himself, because you can't be an egotistical abusive shit made of hubris and shouting without people noticing. I ended up sitting next to one of the org's biggest donors at a friend's wedding purely by coincidence, and spilled all the tea, including how this guy was a walking liability. By this point I'd also worked for a conference where I was able to get this CEO red flagged and blacklisted from ever being invited. And I contributed to a letter against him to the board signed by over 100 people connected with the org's work. All this came to a head and one day, miraculously, it was announced that he was stepping down. Not just that, but the org was going to have a PR makeover - the name was changed, and any mark left by this man was erased. He'd founded his org, and they not only removed him from its helm, but erased his legacy. They said he'd serve on the board, but as far as I know, he never did. And although I never want to see him again, part of me knows how delightful it would be to have the chance to tell him to his face how much of a role I got to have in stripping him of everything he'd worked for and abused. And he's fine, aside from the disgrace - he made ungodly amounts of money and if he's invested as well as I'm sure he did, he's set for life and has no kids to look after.

But the most important thing, the org did better than go out of business after I left. The CEO experienced actual repercussions, and the org became better and more ethical. The new CEO is someone I know to be insightful, thoughtful, patient, and an all around good person. The only thing better than the whole place going up in flames is a new, better place being reborn from the ashes.

[gingergofastboatsmojito]

His reactiveness

Reactive and intense are not synonyms.

I guess you may wanna check this first for context, but you don't necessarily have to.

A lot of folks think of Carmy as non-reactive because he's too intense, and he is intense, sure, very, but in a reactive manner, the fire-starter is always someone else.

He's even soooo reactive as opposed to proactive, that sometimes he's even submissive. And he's OK with it, or too used to it, he feels somewhat comfortable taking that sub role, whether it is with Donna so she gets off his back, or with Michael, with EMP's EC, or with Claire, etc, he becomes a pushover or a bomb💣, no balance. But that's always as a reaction, it's not proactive, he reacts to stimuli in those 2 different ways as a default. He sometimes opposes it with all his might, in a very Carmy way, and becomes defensive, even aggressive:

or he succumbs to it, which on the outside can even look like he's cooperating with it, but he's not, he's reacting in a submissive way, to avoid the alternative, which he deems "more inconvenient" at the time (defense mechanism), so he rather takes the submissive role in those cases.

This, in his particular case, leads to bottled-up aggression and pain that come out in the most destructive and unhealthy ways, such as panic attacks, sleepwalking, workaholism, chain-smoking, anger fits in other situations that don't necessarily call for that, which he overreacts to, etc.

All of this is a result of his upbringing and the fact that his caretaker and father figure were addicts, ofc. I have already mentioned that a long time ago, but in his case, it always bears repeating because it is the cause of his C-PTSD, which is basically what frames all of the aforementioned behaviors and dysfunctional habits. (I lightly touched this subject in one of my fics too). Not that he doesn't have other co-diagnoses that are part of his overall psychological makeup and also have an impact on his life, granted, but C-PTSD is by far the most comprehensive.

If you have time to read his monologue, I strongly suggest you do, JAW's acting is UNBELIEVABLE but reading it and re-reading it gives it a whole new dimension. Storer is my spirit animal. He wrote an ode to PTSD and in Carmy's case, it's the C subtype because it was not triggered by just one event, but by repetitive trauma. Here it is:

My point is: Of course, he needs to address all of that, but even if he did, since the reactiveness is deeply rooted in him now, it's part of his very own personality, not just an acquired habit, he won't be able to change that, he will have to learn to cope and work with it, so it doesn't limit him anymore. We can all get treatment or change, but no one changes personalities. Ever.

He will have to learn to deal with it in healthier and more adaptative ways. There are multiple ways to do that and go about it, therapy is just one of them, but not the only one. The great news is that it can definitely be done if there's a will, but it's important to point out that it will not disappear, as that reactiveness is in his nature at this point. Because it started in his formative years, very early childhood, etc. It will be expressed differently, he will have more control over it, and it may shift its form to a point where he could even use it as one of his strengths, but it will never magically or clinically go away. Full stop. It's important to have realistic expectations to avoid unnecessary frustration and to be happier with a result that even exceeds our expectations if it eventually comes to it. Like I wish it did for Carmy, by the end of the series.

Now, let's call it what it is: He will never be the "proactive Carmy", functional hero, fully together male-lead that some envision he becomes for Syd and because of her.

That's not in his nature.

Realistically speaking, not to mention Storer-friendly speaking, he can improve, sure! And he will and I'm positive about that, as I mentioned here and here, she will have a crucial role in that evolution because Sydney is the plot twist, he is the plot. But Carmy will not become someone else.

He is and will always be Carmen Anthony Berzatto, The Bear, with all the light and shadow aspects that entails.

And quite frankly, I love that, chefs because we are all a work in progress, just like him.

❤️‍🔥

Remember to follow my tag #Gingerpovs 💋

[preppernewstoday]

(Psst. The FTC asks me to remind everyone that this website includes affiliate links. This means that if you click on a link, you might earn a small commission. This doesn't increase the cost of the item or decrease its awesomeness. ~ Daisy) Raymond Mohr Many people talk about the upcoming zombie apocalypse or EMP event. All of these scenarios are possible, and we may experience them all. Layoffs are what really do seem to be on the horizon. It is fun to talk about how prepared you are to handle all the "what-if" situations that may arise. Are you really ready for when that pink slip comes? Your chances of being fired from your job are much greater than that of someone ripping your face off. Already signs of the coming layoff wave can be seen. We know that Elon Musk recently laid off large numbers of Twitter employees. You can follow that up with Meta, Facebook. Mark Zuckerberg announced that he would let over 11,000 employees go. He said this... Today, I am sharing the most challenging changes in Meta's history. I have decided to reduce our team size by 13% and let more 11,000 of our highly skilled employees go. We're also taking additional steps to make our company more efficient and leaner. This includes reducing discretionary spending and increasing our hiring freeze until Q1. I am willing to accept responsibility for the decisions made and how they came about. This is a difficult time for all, and I am sorry for the people who are affected. Uhhhh. It is very easy for him to say that. He has a lot of money in the bank. Who is going to fire his? He is the owner of the company. It is actually quite interesting to see how many tech companies are cutting back. This list of tech companies that are cutting back on staff and instituting hiring freezes was published by The Kobeissi Letter. Twitter: 50% Cameo: 25% Robinhood: 23% Intel: 20% Snapchat: 20% Coinbase: 18% Opendoor: 18% Stripe: 14% Lyft: 13% Shopify: 10% Meta: "Thousands." Apple: Hiring Freeze Amazon: Hiring Freeze I will share with y'all a link to a website which posted 20 pages about companies that were going downsizing or laying off. What is the possible "apocalypse"? All this is because I enjoy talking about survival in the SHTF or Zombie Apocalypse. These will affect you in the near future. Most likely not. What will impact you and your family the most is if your job or your spouse's goes. It's great to be a prepper, and have prepared for many of the events you see on TV and read about in books. These people have created what I refer to as "Food Insurance." With the rising food costs, it is important to consider how one will pay the bills, feed their family, and what happens if little Johnny or Jane gets sick. The unemployment check you might get won't make much difference. You won't be spending any of the money you might have received if you have already stocked up on food, medicine, etc. Many people don't realize that food is an investment. When you prepare food, it will be a blessing. What happens if you have a very small pantry? My best advice? Start stocking up right away. Here's how you can get started... It's never too late for you to begin building your pantry. Because they didn't have big-box stores or restaurants around every corner, it was not easy to get a meal. Our grandparents and parents did this back in their day. While I don't advise you to panic buy, I do recommend that you start buying food for your family now at a steady pace. There are good plans... The $5 Dollar Rule: Every time you shop, purchase $5 food for your pantry. Buy Double Rule - If your family loves tuna, instead of buying 2-3 cans, purchase 4-6 cans and store the rest.

The 5 Can Rule – Buy five cans of food, just like the $5 rule. This one is not mine. I learned it from Patara , Appalachia's Homestead with Patara when she was interviewed for my YouTube channel. The Bulk Buy Rule - Instead buying many different foods, purchase one case of pasta and then a few cases of green beans, corn, or sauce. You can save money in the long-term and don't need to repurchase the item every so often. Get my book Survive the Coming Storm - A Poor Man's Guide to Preserving Your Wealth In An Economic Collapse. (Want to learn more about how to build your food storage? To build a 3-layer food storage system, download our QUICKSTART guide. You might be able to mix and match the plans and create something unique for you and your family. It is important to start buying food right away. Do not wait until tomorrow, start now. The chances of getting the pink slip increasing every day are greater if you do it now. As inflation rises, so will job losses. You are just a number to your employer. Don't think that you are too valuable to be replaced by someone faster, better or less skilled. Companies are not loyal to their employees, as much as I hate it to say so. You are just an employee who helps them improve their bottom line. They also report positive earnings to stockholders. They won't keep you going through difficult times. These steps will help you to be in the best position possible if your job is lost. This website is keeping track of all this. It's called Intellizence.com. This website has a huge list companies that will be starting the layoff process. You might want to look at this list to see if your company is on it. If your company is involved with any of the companies listed above, take note. It boils down to supply chains, and interoperability. You can get bolts from Company A and they don't sell anywhere else. They start laying off. Your bolts will not be delivered to you. How does this affect your company? This will cause a slowdown in production. Guess what your company will do if this happens? It is a good idea to lay off everyone, because they can't get the bolts from Company "A." (Want to have uninterrupted access The Organic Prepper? Subscribe to our paid newsletter. ) Prepare for the layoff wave. It is already here. I hope you found this article useful and inspiring. It is not impossible for this to happen to you. This economic crisis is becoming a major problem and many will lose their jobs. It is best to be aware that it is happening and take action now. Are you a former employee who was laid off or has lost your job? Do you have any tips for others in this situation? Are you worried that your neck could be in danger? What are your plans for the future? Let's discuss it in the comments. About Raymond: Raymond Mhor, The Kilted Prepper. He is an blogger and author. He has been involved in the survival industry for more than 20 years. Ray is the author of eight books and has appeared on numerous television shows. He also has many podcast and radio interviews. Ray's motto says "Real Prepping For Real People - No Hollywood Stuff!" He lives with Cynthia, his wife and their three dogs in Virginia's Blue Ridge Mountains. The Mhor family is passionate about homesteading and preparedness. You can find him on Facebook, Truth Social and Instagram.

[justletmeplayminecraft]

guess who’s back at it again in @martuzzio‘s space outlaw au! this is a bit of a shift from my last two, so please heed the warnings below! if you want to know details about any, or think any others should be added, then drop me a message. it’s also over 7k, buckle in.

usual psa, may not be completely canon to the au. i pick & choose depending on what’ll be most fun, and its up to marzo what (if anything) she wants to keep!  enjoy it as it is!! (aka wels has longer hair in this because i have a crayon licence that says ‘i do what i want’.)

featuring: mumbo has a meeting on his home planet that goes wrong in an impressive way, wels has a sword, an evil tech guy villain, hurt/comfort, me being annoyed i have to use grunts instead of minions because i only see yellow things & good ol’ last minute rescues

warnings: violence, electrocution, mind control esq device (not used on anyone), injury, attempted kidnapping, brief imprisonment, pseudo-science lmao

"So I'm on babysitting duty." Wels is an intimidating sight in his suit, sword glinting in his hand. Mumbo finishes slicking back his hair, trying to get the parting perfect before he replies.

"You're not that much older than me." Compared to some of the hermits, at least. Nobody can come close to Xisuma, anyway. Wels laughs, checking his sword over.

"I feel it." He tilts his head towards Mumbo with half a smile. "I'm pretty much ancient next to you." Mumbo scoffs, flicking through his design folder again. Thankfully, this is more of an exchange than a pitch. Mumbo's improved, certainly, but he'd argue his reputation does most of the work for him. It's the main, if not only, reason he's back here.

"You're going to look it if you bring an actual sword to a tech meeting." Wels shifts his hold, the sword pointed towards Mumbo in an instant, narrowly avoiding the glass screens he's holding.

"Think you can stop me?" He teases, one eyebrow raised. There's the hint of a smirk on his face. Mumbo breathes out, relieved he's not offended him by accident.

"Didn't say you couldn't, did I?" Wels's shoulders rise with a smile, his sword coming to rest at his side.

"Smart decision." Wels picks up his weapon holster. A brief meeting or not, they all know better than to leave the ship without protection. Iskall refused to let Mumbo go until he checked each of his weapons, cleaning them thoroughly. His suit has been examined too, even if he's leaving the helmet on their ship. He knows the air is breathable here and it'll probably help if he's recognised. Wels has his helmet under his arm, waiting to put it on. "You ready to go?" He asks, holding his hand out. Mumbo nods, patting his folder and weapons.

"Got everything I need," he replies. Wels gives him a last smile before putting his helmet on, checking its secure then nodding.

"Let's go get you to that meeting, then." Mumbo glances around the shuttle, making sure everything's shut down. It locks with a satisfying beep. "You know where we're going?"

"Think I remember my way around." Wels nods, gesturing for Mumbo to go ahead with a bow. It's only slightly sarcastic. Mumbo makes sure to roll his eyes as he takes the lead.

He'll admit, it's nice being back on his home planet. Stepping out of the hangar bay to concrete roads and pavements. White buildings reach into the sky, entwined with greenery and tunnelling the layered streets. It's not often he gets to come back here. Plus, he might get to prove himself and his designs. If this works out, it's a massive step for him.

With all its familiarity, it's still strange being somewhere so busy. Cars and buses float down the roads, and they pass by people as they walk. Families with kids, couples, mostly people in the business wear Mumbo recognises. The pair get a few second glances as they make their way through the city. Wearing the suits is a bit of a statement. In truth, Mumbo didn’t want the stress of changing for the meeting. He would've spent forever worrying about what to put on and how he wants to present himself. Whereas Wels would probably live in his suit if given the chance. They're more common in a city like this than in other places, but hardly a frequent sight in public. Being part of the Hermits might also garner some looks, but they should be fine here. It's friendly territory.

Wels sticks close to Mumbo either way. Even without seeing his expression, he can tell how carefully Wels examines their environment. Mumbo feels safer having him here. He wouldn't want to come on his own. The building they're looking for is at the edge of the town centre, a tall office building with an angled top. The same pristine white as the rest of them.

"This it?" Wels asks, crossing his arms. He's looking up at the building.

"Yep."

"Fancy." Mumbo can't help a soft noise of amusement. Inside is a wide lobby, with a fountain of all things at the back of the room, cushioned seats and plants filling the space. It's also strangely empty. The front desk is obvious enough. A hologram of a receptionist appears when they get closer.

"Hello and welcome to Dukes Crown Limited!" The voice is like a parody of a person. Mumbo's never liked the voice of AIs. The closer they are to human, the more uncanny they become. "What is your reason for visiting?" The wide smile never changes. Mumbo shivers.

"Mumbo Jumbo, I'm here for a meeting." The hologram remains still before jumping to life, pointing to a lift at the back of the lobby.

"Your meeting is on the thirty fifth floor, office A. Is there anything else I can help you with?"

Mumbo shakes his head quickly, "Nope, that's all, thank you very much."

He's already turned towards the lift as the AI replies, "You're welcome. Enjoy your visit!" Wels joins him as he walks, leaning in close.

"Are they always that creepy?" He whispers, sneaking looks around the empty lobby.

"Unfortunately." He's never been completely comfortable with them. It's all superficial programming. You give something the ability to think and then limit it. "Lobbies aren't usually this empty either. Must be a busy day." Wels hums, sounding unconvinced. He follows Mumbo into the lift anyway, waiting in the corner. It takes Mumbo a second to find the right button. He tries to block out the cheery music and focus on his breathing.

"I don't like this," Wels states what they've both been thinking. Mumbo stares at the door of the lift. He breathes in deep, holding it before letting it out slowly.

"We can't exactly back out now," he says. He's come this far, taken the entire ship off course for this meeting. He knows Xisuma would understand. Gut instincts are there for a reason, as they've all learnt. But Mumbo wants something out of this. Maybe it's selfish.

"We could." Wels gestures to the panel. "We press the button, go straight back down and walk out of that fancy front door."

"You can if you want to," Mumbo tells him. Wels turns to him and Mumbo wishes he could see his expression.

"And leave you alone?" Wels asks. "Absolutely not." Mumbo smiles slightly, watching the number on the display climb until they reach their floor, accompanied by the same artificial voice of the receptionist. Wels steps out first, Mumbo following soon after.

Their suits click against the floors, white plastic beneath them. The walls are halftone between white and blue. It's not particularly appealing, but these offices rarely are. It was a lucky turn of events he ended up how he did. How boring his life would be if he actually made it into one of these.

"Is this the one?" Wels points to a closed door, one of very few on this floor. Mumbo checks the symbol on the side, nodding.

"Looks like it." Wels stands beside Mumbo, resting his hand near his sword.

"You ready to go in?" He asks. Mumbo quickly checks the time, sighing. It doesn't look like he can stall. This whole set-up has brought his anxiety back full force. He knows what he's doing, though. He's practised with the others, he knows not to devalue himself. He's going to be great.

"As I'll ever be." Wels lifts his shoulders, offering an incline of his head. Mumbo smiles back. He raises his hand to knock on the door, but it slides open before he can. Wels makes a quiet noise of surprise behind him. Mumbo shakes his head, stepping into the office.

It's emptier than he's used to. Two bookshelves against the walls, lined with books that look like they've never been read. There's a shutter blocking out the window, leaving the main light the bulb overhead. Towards the back of the room is the desk. It's empty. Mumbo looks to Wels, who's hovering inside the door.

"Do you think we're early?" Wels doesn't get the chance to reply. There's a loud bang from nearby. Mumbo spins in the direction of it just as his suit lets out a warning beep and the light flickers out. When he tries the display it won't turn on. Oh no. "Wels-"

He cuts himself off when he sees him fighting with his helmet, fingers missing the release latch. Mumbo drops his folder, rushing forward and batting Wels's fingers away so he can get to it himself. Wels fights him momentarily but settles when the helmet clicks and Mumbo can slide it off his head.

Fear isn't a stranger to Mumbo. He's certainly feeling it right now. But he's never seen it on Wels before. His eyes are wide until he scrunches them shut, his breath coming out in short puffs and his hair stuck to his forehead. He reaches his hand out and Mumbo offers his own to hold. His heartbeat picks up considerably as he glances around the room. The door has closed and Mumbo has no idea what this is.

"Wels?" He tries, when his breathing has calmed. "You with me?" Wels nods, taking a deep breath in and squeezing Mumbo's hand.

"Helmet stopped getting input." Mumbo winces, glad he didn't wear his.

"It's supposed to release when that happens-" He shakes his head "-I'll look into it. We've got worse problems." Wels blinks hard, standing straight and taking in the situation. His face is still red, but his composure has returned. He finally releases Mumbo's hand.

"The door's shut." Mumbo nods. He examines it, considering the model in his head. The keypad won't even activate when he tries it.

"This model is supposed to open when it loses power," he says, thinking out loud, "It's a safety feature."

"So someone's changed it on purpose."

"Appears so." Mumbo isn't going to think about those implications. "What even was that? Nothing's working." Wels's face is grim, trying to pry the shutters open.

"Localised EMP, I think. Probably only affected this floor."

"Well." Mumbo glares at the door, deciding to pry the keypad open. "This is just wonderful."

"Note to self." Wels ducks under the desk. "Trust our gut instinct." Mumbo makes a noise in response, sorting through the wires in the panel. He knows how these doors work but it doesn't seem to be getting any power. There's no amount of re-ordering wires that can change that. He tries his suit again but gets the same result. They need to get out of here and contact the others.

"Found anything?" He asks when Wels appears again.

Wels shakes his head, "Nothing. I was hoping for an escape latch or... Something." He makes a frustrated noise. "Somebody wants us trapped in here and I'm not going to let that happen."

"Well, I don't think there's any way I can open the door. Unless we can lever it." Wels looks it up and down.

"Right. Last resort." Wels pulls out his sword, launching it at the thin parting in the door. "Please don't break," he murmurs under his breath. In a sharp motion he angles his sword, managing to pry the door open by a crack. "Mumbo!" Mumbo squeezes his elbow in, pushing the door until the gap is wide enough for them both to fit through. Thankfully the only resistance is the weight, rather than any mechanism.

"I doubt the lift will be safe," Mumbo says, checking down the hallways. Wels has his sword by his side, holding it ready. He's left his helmet behind, same as Mumbo's files. An annoying loss, but he's not fighting the door again for them. "Did we pass stairs?"

"I think so." Wels leans on one foot to look down the corridor. "Are those signs?"

Both of their heads jolt in the direction of footsteps down the corridor. There's nowhere obvious to hide. Wels pushes Mumbo into the small alcove by the lift, standing in front of him with his sword to attention. Mumbo can't see his face but his shoulders are set in a tense line. Mumbo reaches for his gun, although he has a feeling it won't work. Neither of them breathe as the footsteps grow closer.

It's two men, dressed in dark clothing. Neither of them look in their direction, focused on the door they should be behind. There's no hint of movement before Wels launches. He butts one of the men on the head with the hilt of his sword, swinging as he drops to knock the gun from the other's hand. He follows it up with a strike against his head with the flat of the blade. Less deadly, but it leaves them incapacitated enough. Wels kicks their guns in Mumbo's direction.

"Anything work?" He asks, pushing the hair from his face back with a scowl. Mumbo scoops the weapons up. His own gun isn't working, so that's great. He plays with the other two, attempting to activate them. He only gets 'access denied' on a small screen.

"It's fingerprint locked. How absurd." He twists the gun to see the underside. "I could rewire it." Wels shakes his head.

"That would take too long," he says, "Our only advantage right now is that they don't know we're free. The blast will have knocked out the cameras on this floor." He nudges one of the grunts with his toe. "When these two don't report in or... Whatever, they'll realise."

"At least we know where the stairs are." Wels smiles, stepping over the grunt. He keeps his sword ready by his side, only slightly bloody.

"That's the spirit." Mumbo exaggerates his sigh and gets an amused puff in response. Wels gestures for him to continue with his hand, both of them making for the stairs.

"What's actually the plan here?" Mumbo asks as they reach the stairwell, thankfully open. Wels leans over the barrier to check below them. "Do we even have one?"

"Nope," Wels pops the 'p'. Well, nothing new there. "Stay behind me."

"Planning to."

He tries to tread lightly down the stairs, difficult with his suit. Wels nearly dances down them, feet ghosting over each step. He stops them both by holding a hand up. Mumbo only stumbles down one stair as he tries to stop. Wels turns, mouthing and pointing them both up around the bend. They press themselves around the stairwell, listening as a few people enter. Mumbo can see Wels relax when they go down away from them.

It's a tense wait for the voices to disappear, punctuated by another door sliding shut. The two wait for a few seconds more.

"This must still operate as an office building," Mumbo murmurs, keeping his voice low.

"It's a big building to rent out just for an elaborate trap." Wels continues down. "Is there usually a back door?" Mumbo hums, trying to think to his adolescence.

"There should be," he replies. Usually into an alleyway, for taking out the trash or something.

"Well, it's that or the front door." Wels checks ahead as they go down another twist. "Which would be a statement."

"They set an EMP off and tried to trap us in a room, Wels."

"A statement," Wels repeats, pausing to give Mumbo a cheeky smile. Mumbo shakes his head. It reminds him of the situation they're actually in. He has no idea what the motivation is for this. At least it's not Convex, he hopes. Variety is the spice of life or whatever. He trusts Wels when he says it was an EMP. There's something very wrong with this situation. Mumbo's a big fan of run first, ask questions later.

They encounter trouble as they reach the ground floor. Wels holds a hand out in front of Mumbo when they hear shouting, both of them stilling. Wels leans forward, listening carefully.

"Head up slightly," he murmurs, pushing Mumbo in the right direction. Mumbo hides around the corner, peering so he can just see Wels. He's pressed against the wall, his breathing measured. He's looking at the ground as the sounds come closer, voices and footsteps.

The door opens and Wels pounces. He kicks behind the knees of the first person, hitting his head with his sword. Without hesitation, he twists to the next, jabbing backwards and knocking them into the person behind. Mumbo is barely breathing, watching Wels's precise movements. Wels is quick to knock their weapons away, hair falling into his face.

A noise behind Mumbo startles him to his feet, raising his arms as he spots more grunts rushing down the stairs. He glances to Wels, finding he's mostly dispatched the ones by him.

"Wels, we need to go!" He calls, rushing down the stairs. Wels drops the last one with a jab to the spine, his shoulders rising with heavy breaths.

"Okay, that's a lot." He grabs Mumbo, narrowly pulling him out the way of a shot. His hand stays around his wrist until they're into the corridor, releasing him to sprint ahead. Mumbo gulps, breaking into a run. He can hear the crackle of electricity hitting the wall beside him, far too close for comfort.

He pauses when he hears a crack of electricity coming from up ahead, calling out a panicked, "Wels!" Wels stops, swerving to the side, but not fast enough to avoid the rope that flies out from a side door. It wraps around his torso, sparking with electricity and pinning his arms to his side. Wels falls with a pained shout. He lands hard on his arm, gasping out for breath. The sword falls too far from Mumbo's reach. He instinctively moves to help until his head kicks in, hearing the shouting around him.

"Hands up!" Mumbo looks at Wels on the ground, his chest heaving as the wire (he can now see that's what it is) crackles again. Wels shifts in place, letting out a weak cry at the pulse as his body tenses. Maybe it's a good thing his hair hides the pained expression Mumbo knows must be there. He raises his hands, allowing one of the grunts to grab his arms and pull them behind his back. Something solid and heavy is secured around his wrists. He almost loses his footing at a sharp tug, turning to see the bloody gash on the guy's head. Maybe Wels should have hit him harder.

A figure enters the corridor that Mumbo is more familiar with.

"Mr. Dukes-" he keeps his voice steady, masking the fear churning in his stomach "-This is an interesting meeting." Internally, he curses the guy out. He only has to take one look at Wels for his morals to disappear. But he knows they're at a disadvantage, and he knows that won't help anything.

"Mumbo," Dukes nods very slightly to acknowledge him before nudging Wels with a pointed toe. Wels groans, trying to curl up and Mumbo bristles. "This would've been much easier if you stayed put." Dukes waves at the grunts. "Take him to an office. I'll move them at nightfall, figure out what to do with the extra." There's a few affirmatives before Mumbo's being dragged away, battling every urge to break free or to call for Wels or something. It feels like he's failed somehow, but he doesn't fight. He doesn't know what to do.

-

Mumbo paces the room they left him in. He's tried everything he can get his restrained hands on, checked the walls, checked the door, the little furniture there is to check. He can't find a way out of here. In the tiniest crack at the base of the shutters, he can tell it's ticking into evening. They've got time. If they're moved to a second location they're absolutely boned.

There's no telling how long it'll take the others to realise something's gone wrong. First it'll be when they don't get an update after the meeting, but when did they expect the meeting to end? Then they'll send a message but how long until they worry about the lack of reply? A deep part of Mumbo is gnawing at him with the knowledge they might mobilise too late. The Hermits stop at nothing to protect their own, but they need to find them first. It's too easy to disappear.

With any luck, Dukes was only after Mumbo. Wels was extra, wasn't he? Turn him into the right governmental body for a quick profit, easy. Just as easy as it would be for the others to break him out. It's himself he's not sure about. He was the target of all this. For his designs, he's guessing. He slumps against the wall, watching the sunlight creeping under the shutter. He pushes away thoughts of what might happen to him. He's sure he'll find out soon enough.

The light outside gradually fades in colour. Mumbo paces the room several more times until it becomes a strong amber, travelling across the carpeted floor. If he stays still for too long he thinks his worry might consume him. He tries his suit a few times as a last ditch effort, knocking it against the wall. He can't even get annoyed at the work it'll take to fix it. He might not get the chance.

He's mid-pace when the door slides open. Two grunts grab his arms, holding him in place in the centre of the room. He scowls, trying to shift their grip. Dukes follows soon after them.

"It has," he replies, falling into the professional tone. "Do I get to know why we couldn't just have a peaceful, ordinary meeting?" Dukes strides forward, his hands clasped neatly behind him back. He's only an inch taller than Mumbo, but he makes him feel tiny.

"It's been some time, hasn't it, Mumbo?" Should've been longer, apparently. Being rejected for that internship destroyed him, back then. The constant comments, the reminders he'd never make anything of himself. All of it. He was so excited to finally prove himself and look at what that gets him.

"You have no idea how valuable you are, do you?"

Mumbo tilts his head side to side, "About ten million, actually, last time I checked." Dukes laughs.

"One of the smartest minds of a generation," Dukes says, "And still unsurprisingly foolish." Mumbo frowns. It's an effort not to reply. "See, I've been working on a project but I need more brains to push it further. It's nearly perfect and once finished, it could change the scene as we know it." Mumbo doesn't know it. He doesn't want to know it.

"That could've been done through negotiation," he replies, "I'm available to hire."

"I don't think I could pay you to work on this." Dukes holds something in front of him. A collar of some kind. There's sharp, thin spikes around the back, on the inside. Mumbo cringes at the sight. "This has been my brainchild for some time. This collar, combined with a remote, taps directly into the wearer's spinal cord. It can stop or send its own signals, allowing control of body parts the wearer can't use, better health management-"

"You want to use it to control people," Mumbo interrupts, the reality sinking in. He glares at Duke, hiding his terror as anger.

"Smart boy."

"You're right. I won't work on it." He edges back into the hands holding him. Dukes laughs again. The sound makes Mumbo feel dizzy.

"You wouldn't just be working on it," Dukes tells him, in the same tone someone would use to talk to a child. "You'd be one of the first test subjects." Mumbo's eyes widen. He pushes back, thrashing to loosen the grip on his arms.

"No- no, no, no-" He's completely broken and he knows it. No going back now. "Get away from me. Take that thing away. You're sick." Dukes stands there, ignoring Mumbo's panic. He opens an antiseptic cloth, running it over the metal points.

"I imagine it'll hurt going in," he explains like he's reading a book. "But we made sure it'll do as little damage as possible. It's getting it out that could mess things up a little."

"You can't do this. You won't get away with it."

"I think I already have-" Dukes steps forward, holding the collar up, "What will you do, call for help? Oh, wait-" A smile with too many teeth "-You won't be able to." Mumbo pushes himself back, drawing in as a last ditch effort to protect himself. He shuts his eyes and hears the crackle of electricity.

Then the hands around his arms release.

He tumbles to the floor, opening his eyes to see a suit he recognises stunning the second grunt. False turns to him, her expression hidden by her helmet.

"Mumbo-" It sounds as if a heavy weight is lifted when she says it. She drops to her knees, gently checking him over. "Are you okay, did he hurt you?"

Mumbo shakes his head, "No I'm... Alright. I'm okay." He's... It might take a minute to believe it. She sighs, resting her glove on his cheek.

"We were so worried. We just-" She shakes her head, standing and turning to the incapacitated people around her. "Let me sort this out first."

"No, please do." Safer than making the same mistake they did. She pulls out her sets of cuffs, securing the grunts first.

"We got a distress signal from Wels. Apparently it's set for if his suit fails. Then we couldn't find either of you- X went near ballistic," she explains as she works. Mumbo listens, her voice a grounding anchor. "We came as soon as we could."

"Who's here?" Mumbo asks. He knows they couldn't fit the entire ship.

"Iskall, Etho and I. Doc's on back up."

"Is Stress there?" False nods. "Wels might be injured. He seemed bad when he went down." She finishes checking the bindings, raising her arm.

"False reporting," she pauses for an unheard response, "I've got Mumbo. No injuries but he says Wels might be. Tell Stress to be prepared." Mumbo wishes he could hear the conversation, but False lowers her arm afterwards. She hesitates when she sees the collar, picking it up cautiously.

"What even is this?" She asks, helmet tilting to Mumbo. He shudders, drawing his legs closer to himself.

"It's a... controlling device. It accesses your spinal cord to send nerve signals. Lets you control someone." False looks at it for a long second, then to Mumbo.

"He was about to put this on you." She sounds breathless. Mumbo looks into his lap, can't find the words to reply. He might break down if he does. "I'm getting those cuffs off and getting you out. What are the authorities like here?" She leaves the collar to the side.

"They're not awful," Mumbo explains as she works on the restraints around his wrists, "But someone with money and influence like him... He'd probably find a way out of it." She makes a frustrated noise just as the restraints fall away. Mumbo's muscles ache in relief. He rubs at the soreness around his wrists.

"We'll see what we can do," she decides. She offers him a hand. He stumbles forward, kept upright by her firm grip. "Who is he? I'm assuming that's the leader." She dips her head in Dukes' direction. Mumbo sighs.

"Tristan Dukes. Everyone in the city knows him. Well-known for his innovation and inventions, donates regularly to charities. Most inspiring inventors want to work for him." Mumbo gives his wrist a last squeeze. "I tried going for an internship here. It didn't go well. Probably good I didn't get it, if this is what he's doing behind the scenes."

"If I wasn't afraid of waking him up then I'd kick him harder." Mumbo can't help an amused snort. His legs are still trembling.

"That's not very do-gooder of you, False." She laughs, bumping his side gently enough it doesn't knock him over.

"What X doesn't know can't hurt him." He breathes a little easier at her light tone. She reaches for her belt, placing a stun gun in his hands. "You ready to get out of here?" Mumbo glances to the door. He'd like to see Wels, get proof he's okay. But he'll only get in the way. The three of them are a well-oiled machine on missions like this.

"Absolutely." It's a cause for celebration when he steps out of that office prison on its own. "How did you guys get here?" It would be a bit obvious to have a crew in their full suits through the city.

False makes a high-pitched "Well." She shrugs, sounding not very sheepish. "We took one of the ships. Then we may've borrowed a few cars."

"Borrowed," Mumbo repeats. She holds her hands up.

"Hey, we fully plan on returning them this time!" Mumbo shakes his head, following behind her. She raises her arm. "False again-" Pause "-Yeah, I'm getting Mumbo out. Left three people in the office. Floor forty, office B. The one in the fancy clothes is the owner of the company, Tristan Dukes. I want a background check on him. Dig up all the dirt you can find. He's not going free." She hums, glancing at Mumbo. "Okay. Keep me updated."

"Who was that?" Mumbo asks. False starts moving towards the exit, giving her gun a quick check over.

"Ren," she replies. "He's doing comms from home. We should be all set." And isn't he glad to hear that?

Their escape goes better than his and Wels did. Any grunts on the staircase have already been dealt with, tied up in neat batches for the police to find. False still scopes out each corner, all business as they move through. It's the side door they leave through. The cool air in the alley nearly makes him sag in relief. The night is almost on them. She leads him through a network of alleys, head twitching towards any sounds she hears. The distant traffic is a quiet undertone. She approaches a parked car, knocking on the window of it.

The door swings open, Doc inviting Mumbo into the seat. Mumbo near collapses into it, shutting his eyes and leaning against the headrest.

"Mumbo," Doc greets. Mumbo cracks his eyes open, giving a tired smile. "It sure is good to see you."

"Yeah. Yeah, I could say the same." He's ready to sink into this seat forever. Doc rubs his shoulder and Mumbo allows himself to be pushed.

"What are you doing?" Doc looks to False, who's bouncing in place. Mumbo follows his gaze, listening along.

"I'm going to head back in," she tells him. "Can I trust you've got Mumbo?"

"Won't let him out of my sight." Mumbo rolls his eyes, slouching further into the seat.

"I am sitting right here." False laughs, patting his head.

"I'll keep in touch. Stay safe."

Doc nods, "You too." She offers a quick nod, closing the door and darting back into the alleys. Doc turns to Mumbo. He's smiling, but Mumbo can tell concern when he sees it. "How are you doing, man?" Mumbo sighs.

"Exhausted," he admits. "I don't think I've processed it properly at all."

"Understandable," Doc replies. "What even happened in there?" Mumbo groans, rearranging himself to rest against Doc's side. The suits aren't comfortable, but it helps to know someone is behind him after being alone in that room. He sticks his feet on the seat so his legs shield him from the door.

"Meeting could've gone better." Doc laughs deeply at that one, careful not to knock Mumbo off.

"Well, that's one way to put it." Mumbo smiles to himself, resting his eyes.

"Got into the office, EMP went off, broke out the room, nearly got out but got caught, rescued by False." He isn't going to mention the collar, or his history with Dukes. He'll save reliving that for the official report. "Think that covers it."

"Yikes."

"Yep."

"Guess it's not just Cub and Scar we gotta worry about, huh." Mumbo presses his hands to his face with a noise of displeasure.

"I don't even want to think about that. I do not want this to be a reoccurring nightmare." Doc chuckles, patting Mumbo's shoulder carefully.

"You'll be fine. Hopefully, it'll all be sorted after this. And you've got us. We're pretty terrifying." It takes a bit of effort, but Mumbo leans his head back far enough to see Doc's eyes.

"You know what, I'm holding you to that." He yawns, the energy that's been keeping him going has drained. He can tell he's crashing. "Protect me from businessmen with delusions of grandeur."

"Oh, of course." Doc's voice is dry. "I'll let Iskall know." Mumbo chuckles, shaking his head. He closes his eyes again, accepting he might not stay awake much longer.

"Big scary Iskall."

"He was big and scary when he found out you were in trouble."

"That's Iskall," he agrees. It's nice knowing that they all care about him. He wouldn't be forgotten. They'd keep looking until they found him.

He doesn't realise he's dozed off until he's being gently moved. He blinks his eyes open and realises he's now lying across the seats. Looking up, he finds Doc resting his hand on Mumbo's side. He's talking to someone out of eye-line. Mumbo relaxes. If Doc's there, then he's fine. He has no doubt in his mind about that at all.

The next time he wakes up, it's because he's being nudged awake. Doc is next to him, with a gentle smile.

"Hey, sleepyhead," he greets, sitting back so Mumbo can sit upright. He yawns, covering his hand with his mouth. "We're back at the ships. Got some stuff to finish up before we go back home."

"Is it finished?" Mumbo asks, rubbing his eyes. When he looks out the window, he recognises the hangar parking.

"Yep." Doc crosses his arms, leaning back in his seat. "There was an incident-"

"Is Wels okay?" Mumbo interjects, fear twisting his stomach. Doc's expression softens as he nods.

"Wels is fine. Fractured his arm and a little bruised, but Stress has got him. He was asleep last I heard." Mumbo sighs, his chest finally expanding again. He sinks back into the seat. He has no idea how they've made it out of this situation as lucky as they have. "You wanna head into the ship? Let one of the others return this car." Mumbo nods. Would be nice to avoid running into the law after all this.

When he gets closer to the ship, he can hear shouting. He frowns, pressing closer to Doc. Doc simply rolls his eyes.

"They're still going," he murmurs.

"Still?"

Doc shakes his head, "Don't worry about it."

He leans over to open the ship door. The arguing silences immediately. False and Iskall turn to them as they enter. They're helmet-less, although False's hair is still in a bun at the bottom of her head.

"Mumbo!" Iskall moves before Mumbo can react, nearly knocking them over as he wraps his arms around him. Mumbo's brain momentarily malfunctions, taking a second to remember to hug Iskall back. "I was so worried, don't you dare do that again."

"I wasn't planning to, but I'll let you know." Iskall steps back, keeping his hands on Mumbo's forearms.

"And you're okay? How are you feeling?"

"I'm-" The lie nearly slips out before Mumbo thinks about it. He sighs, answering truthfully. "I'm a bit shaken. Finding it hard to believe that all happened, honestly."

"We've got you, okay?" Iskall reminds him. "I'll listen if you want to talk." Mumbo nods. He's not sure when that will be, but he knows it'll do him good.

"Will Xisuma want a proper report?"

"Not until you and Wels are rested up," False says, "He's pleased you're safe." She nods to Doc. "We're going to take the car back."

"Make sure you check in," Iskall tells them.

"We will," Doc reassures, offering a wave as they head outside. The ship feels much emptier with the two of them gone.

"Do you want to see Wels?" Iskall asks. Mumbo didn't realise how much he wanted that until now.

"Yes. Yes, I'd very much like that." Iskall smiles, leading Mumbo through the ship. It's bigger than the one he and Wels took. Offers more than three rooms. Iskall takes them into one of the side doors. Mumbo can immediately see the pink of Stress's suit as she moves around the room, humming a tune to herself. She pauses when she sees them in the doorway.

"Oh! Mumbo, you're back!" She smiles. Mumbo spots Etho curled in a chair on his phone. He raises a hand to acknowledge them. "You're not secretly hiding any injuries are you?"

Mumbo laughs, shaking his head, "No, I promise I'm okay. No injuries on me." She pokes her finger into her cheek.

"And you wouldn't mind me checking?"

"Um, if you want to."

She beams at him, "Nah, you're fine!" Iskall scoffs, gesturing out.

"How come that doesn't work for me? This is bias. Surely that's against oath."

"Iskall, love," Stress starts, her voice dangerously sweet, "Your idea of a minor injury is a stab wound. You've lost trust privileges." Iskall makes a noise of protest whilst Mumbo breaks into laughter. He can see Etho smiling out the corner of his eye.

There's a groan from the bed, then a teasing voice, "Who let you lot in?" Wels pushes himself up with one arm. The bulk of his suit is gone, only the black under-layer left. His other arm is bound by tight fabric to his chest. More interestingly, his hair has been neatly plaited out of his face.

"You shouldn't be moving, mister!" Stress scolds, jumping to move the pillows so he can sit up. "No jostling that arm."

"Yes ma'am," Wels replies. He laughs when Stress flicks his cheek, batting her away with his uninjured arm. Mumbo feels like he can finally breathe properly for the first time since all of this started. Wels looks at him, his expression soft. "Good to see you, Mumbo." His voice turns serious when he asks, "You're okay?"

"I'm fine. Virtually untouched." He holds his arms out before remembering he's still wearing his full suit. "Don't know if I can say the same for you." Wels laughs, sinking into the pillows.

"It's only a broken arm."

"Only," Iskall teases, "Like you're not going to complain when you still can't use it in a week."

Wels hums, "Well, Stress gave me painkillers, so I'm not exactly hurting right now." Stress waves her hands.

"All of you have complexes, I swear! You're gonna gain nothing by sitting there all miserable and sore!" She sounds genuinely exasperated. Mumbo is guilty of falling into that category.

"Admit it, you just like seeing us all loopy." Iskall tilts his head towards her. Stress flashes a smirk, resting her cheek in her palm.

"You can't prove it."

"That's admittance." Etho chimes in, keeping his eyes on his phone, fingers moving impossibly fast.

"I- I don't think that's how you use that word." Iskall frowns, his face scrunching in confusion.

"They're all made up anyway," Etho replies, "I'll use them how I want."

"Stress?" Wels asks, turning to her. His voice is perfectly polite.

"Yes?"

"Can I have more painkillers for the headache they're giving me?" Mumbo barely holds back his laughter. Iskall doesn't, doubling over with it. It only gets stronger when Etho makes a noise, looking disappointed at his phone.

"Yeah, I think you're going to be okay." Iskall pats the bed by Wels's feet. Stress finally sighs, standing fully and shepherding the two in.

"If you're going to clutter the room up then get some chairs. We can have a sleepover." Mumbo smiles, getting pushed into the chair Iskall slides under him.

"Woohoo," Iskall cheers dryly.

"Does that mean I get ice cream?" Wels asks, "I think I deserve ice cream."

"You need more sleep, is what you need." At Wels's dramatic noise she adds, "Ice cream when you wake up."

Iskall sticks his hand up, "Do the rest of us get some?"

"I want ice cream," Etho adds. Stress breathes in slowly, closing her eyes.

"You lot are gonna be the end of me," she announces with a smile. "Go to sleep." Mumbo laughs. Despite his impromptu nap, he can already feel tiredness settling in again. Surrounded by everyone teasing each other, it's not hard to drift off. Nothing's going to get him here.

-

"He was going to put that collar on him," False explains. Her arms are folded, back straight. The hologram of Xisuma frowns, a surprising display of emotion during a debrief. "If I'd been literally seconds later, X, I don't know what we'd be dealing with."

"And he's doing okay?" Xisuma asks, concern in his voice.

"He's dozing with Wels," Iskall replies. "He said it hasn't set in yet. I've told him I'll be there if he wants to talk about it. Stress and Doc are with them."

"Okay. And Wels?" The two glance at Etho.

"He wasn't great when I found him," Etho explains, his mission voice in full force. "We think he's broken his arm and he was giving me static shocks, so probably electrocuted. Won't know more unless they open up, but they seemed in good spirits earlier." Iskall nods in agreement. It's concerning him how quickly they've both settled. As if nothing traumatic happened. That's the most insidious kind. The one that punches you later.

"What about the people responsible?" All three of them share glances at that. False swallows.

"We secured most of the grunts. The authorities have picked them up." She made sure of it herself.

"But?" Xisuma prompts.

"The main guy, Dukes or whatever, completely vanished." Bitterness is still heavy in Iskall's tone. False sighs.

"I left him in the room, out cold, whilst I got Mumbo out of there. He was gone by the time I got back and so was the collar."

"None of us saw him leave," Etho adds.

"This is... More concerning. So that device is still out there."

"It won't be easy for him to build himself back up after this," False explains, "Most of the papers are already linking it to his company."

"That's no guarantee," Etho points out. "There's ways to place blame, claim he had no idea."

"Or he'll use it to go even deeper," Iskall comments. Xisuma taps his fingers on his arm, the hologram flickering as he thinks.

"Have you told Mumbo or Wels about this?" He asks, finally. He always puts his crew first.

"We've... No," Iskall admits.

"We're not sure how to."

"Make sure you do," Xisuma tells them, "Before you get back tomorrow." He pauses, looking over the camera. "Well, today now. Consider yourselves dismissed. We can have a full debrief when you're back on the ship." The three nod. They exchange a brief farewell before the hologram shuts off. Iskall turns to False, resting his hand on her arm to stop her rushing off.

"I'm sorry for shouting earlier," he apologises, straight to the point. "This has stressed me out more than I'd like, and finding out that scum got away just-" He breaks off. False smiles.

"It's okay. I get it." She couldn't believe it when she got back and he was gone. Then nobody knew where and her blame had to fall somewhere. "But they're with us, now. We're all safe. We got there in time."

"We nearly didn't."

"But we did," Etho states, joining the conversation. "Don't get stuck on the ifs right now. They're going to need us."

Iskall nods. "Right. Yeah." He perks himself up. "After mission nap?" False shakes her head, the three heading back through the ship.

"It's past midnight," she reminds him.

"After mission bedtime," Etho suggests. Iskall laughs, but nods along.

"Things could've gone worse," he states. False claps lightly, aware of the possible sleeping hermits.

"There you go! That's more like it."

"Mission successful-ish," Etho agrees.

"We got them back," False says, "That's the main thing."

"Yeah."

None of them want to consider the alternative.